Chapter 12: The Dinner
December 3, Day 11, 5:28 P.M.
Maybe it’s the way she walked
Straight into my heart an stole it
Through the doors and past the guards
Just like she already owned it
My apartment is so little. That was the first thought that crossed my mind when Nevada, Mikki, and Dodie stepped into the front room.
Dodie, Nevada, and Mikki decided to get ready at my apartment. I tried to get them to get ready on the tour bus or something, but no. It just had to be at my ratty old apartment.When I tried to stop them, that just wanted them to come over even more.
That meant cleaning. Lots and lots of cleaning. To me, that meant picking up clothes, and scripts and shoving them in the closet. I had to hold my back against the closet, trying to get it to stay shut. It eventually did.
We now were standing in my bathroom, our legs touching because the space was so small.
“So, what-chya wearin’?” Nevada questioned.
“Um...” I hesitated, so far I was clad in some sweatpants, and oversized T-shirt. “I dunno.” I looked in my mirror, I put a small swipe of eyeliner on my eyelid. Nevada looked at me like I was a mad man for not knowing what I was wearing. “Alright girlies, we need some music.”
“As long as you have anything other than One Direction, I’m good with that.” Mikki joked.
“It won’t be.” I promised.
I plugged my phone in the slot, and set it on my Pandora station. The first song made me laugh all the way back to the bathroom.
Look at that booty, show me the booty
Give me the booty, I want the the booty
Back up the booty, I need the booty
I like the booty, oh what a booty
Mikki, Nevada, Dodie and I all started to dance along to the stupid song.
Shaking that booty, I saw the booty
I want the booty, lord what a booty
I will admit that dancing with a straighter, a curler, and crimper in the room, was probably not the best thing to do.
Bring on the booty, give up the booty
Loving the booty, round booty
I decided that I would smack Nevada’s butt, at which she looked at me with her mouth wide open.
“Oh my god!” She screamed. “Ellie. No.” She then decided that since I hit her butt, she would hit mine.
Sooner or later the bathroom had turned into the battle grounds for the all out smacking butt war. Nevada smacked my butt, while I smacked Mikki’s butt, and Mikki smacked Dodie’s butt, who smacked Nevada’s butt. I checked the time. 6:07.
“Shit!” I exclaimed. “We have a half hour!” Everyone shuffled back to curling, lip-glossing, crimping, straightening, and joking while doing all this.
A half hour later we all were dressed, and looked actually presentable. Mikki wore a gold dress, with a gold clutch to match. Her inky hair was curled into perfect ringlets to frame her face perfectly. She had pink, plump lips, with mascara on her eyes making her eyes pop. She had on some nude pumps to add to the effect.
Nevada had a black and white dress, that looked quite pretty on her to say the least. Her long cinnamon hair was straightened so that is was a tiny bit longer than it usual was. Her icy eyes were covered in mascara, and a little bit of eyeliner.
Dodie wore a pink shirt, that looked nice. Her rust colored, which had been curled to where it looked almost crimped, hair stood against her purple streaks in her hair. She had a thin line of blue eyeliner that went from a thicker line on the inside of her eye, to a thin streak on the outside of her eyes. She honestly looked very pretty.
I was in a denim shirt, which did look nice, and floral patterned pants that had slight slit just above my ankle. My short blonde hair was straightened to my shoulders. My make-up was just some mascara and some lip gloss. Not much.
“Girlies! Time to leave.” Nevada commanded. We all strapped on our shoes, and walked out the door, going down multiple hallways, until we came to an elevator. We walked into the box of metal and started going down to the lobby.
A taxi was waiting just outside, waiting for us to go to the restaurant in Queens.
“Queens, Burton & Doyle. 661 Northern Boulevard. It’s in Great Neck.” I told the cabbie. He didn’t reply. He just started driving.
“Ellie. Elles. Eleanor. Dennis. Wake up.” Nevada shook me awake. I was more tired than I thought.
“Hi.” I stumbled out of the cab, and all the girls had gotten out already.
We all walked into the nice restaurant. Lights lit up a sign that said in big letters: BURTON & DOYLE, STEAK HOUSE. An ivory canopy hung over the door. There was a maroon carpet just under the canopy, making the restaurant look way too fancy for what I was dressed in.
We walked into the restaurant, as I looked for my parents. I found them in the back casually chatting to one another. Probably about me. They always talk about how I don’t have a boyfriend, and should have followed in my sister’s footsteps. Sorry, but I don’t want to contain my self and be boring. I want to have struggles, for they build character.
We told the lady that was at the desk, that the rest of our party was already seated.
We walked back to them. The girls followed behind me like I was some sort of clique leader.
“Momma’! Daddy!” Yelled at them, my arms held wide open.
They took a minute to look up from their menus, when they looked up from the menus they gave me a great big hug.
“Who’s this?” My dad asked about the girls behind me.
“This is Dodie, Nevada, and Mikki. The girls you told me to bring to dinner.”
“Ah, I see. Well, nice to meet you girls.” My dad smiled at them.
We sat in the booth. By bringing my friends I guess they decided not to chastise my life’s choices.
“So, Ellie, have you found a boyfriend?” But then again, they are my parents.
Before I got a chance to answer, Nevie butted in. I have a nick name for her now. Nevie. “Actually, she does.” My parents looked at me in curiosity.
“Oh?” My mom looked at me, almost hurt that I wouldn’t tell her, even if it was fake, it was real in their eyes. “Well, why didn’t you bring him to dinner?”
“Didn’t think about it?” I shrugged. “Heh heh heh.”
“Ellie.” My mom scolded. “Well, at least tell us about him.”
“Mom, we’ve only been dating for like, a week. We’ve only been on one date.” I tried to egg her to switch to a different subject.
“Well, you still know him. C’mon, what’s his name at least.”
“Harry, now let’s see, the Penne Mozzarella sounds good.” I looked at the menu. Mom looked at me with that look that says ‘don’t-you-dare-try-and-change-the-subject’. “Okay, fine, fine.” I took out my phone to google a picture of Harry.
“Eleanor! You know not to take your phone out while at dinner!” My mom exclaimed.
“I’m getting a picture of Harry. Geez...” I googled HARRY STYLES 2013. Immediately I got many results. I picked a random picture and shoved the phone in my mom’s direction.
“That is a global superstar, not your boyfriend.” My mother rolled her eyes.
“Actually, I work for him, so I know that that is actually her boyfriend.” Mikki piped into the conversation. “That’s how we all met Ellie, actually.”
A waiter came over to take our orders, we ordered and went back to our conversation.
“Well, I believe I, as your mother, have the right to know how you two met!”
“I was at my last show of Once,” I heard my mother scoff at my ‘poor excuse for a job’ as she liked to put it. “Anyways, One Direction—Harrys band, was there, at my show. Olivia saw them, and started talking to them, and well, me and Harry both saw each other, and he asked me out while Olli was talking to the others.”
“Well, how did you land him?!”
“You’re acting like I can’t do anything, mom.” My voice was raising. The waiter seemed scared of our little feud, he sat the plates down in front of us, and walked briskly away.
“Well, just seeing what, and where you are in life, I just think that it’s kinda’ hard to believe.” She looked like she wasn’t scared of what I was like right now, voice raising, posture straightening. All because of her. I stuffed my face with spaghetti, I swallowed before speaking.
“You always have hated the fact that, I love acting. Ema has always been your favorite with Freddy the best fiancé, did you know that he used to work as a stripper?” I had a smug look on my face. My mother had a horrified look on her face.
“Ellie there’s no reason to raise your voice—”
“There’s every reason to raise my voice! Ema was always your favorite child! That’s why I was always with Samuel!” I stood up. By now the whole restaurant was looking at us. “Ema now lives in a little cottage, and lives with her fiancé while I live in a raggedy apartment, living by myself. How can you say that there’s no reason to raise my voice?” My tone was hurt. “How can you say anything to me? All you ever do is criticize my decisions in life. All you ever do is say ‘oh Eleanor, why did you choose this life style?’ Well, I’m sick of it. Sick of it!” I slid out of the booth, the girls on my tail. “C’mon girls.” And we stormed out of the fancy restaurant, an immeasurable amount of anger swirled in my eyes.