Amson, 17, "The Work of The Witch"

We stepped inside, not a single sign of life making itself known. With all that shit around the house, there was no question someone'd been there, but was it Lore? I found it hard connecting this scene with her image. Not only that but the amount of shit we didn't have before... how much money did she spend on this?

They weren't some cheap knockoffs; they were the real deal.

"I don't even know what to say." Nicky said, pinching a tortilla chip with nothing but nail. "Should I be impressed or more disappointed?"

"Either-or is fine as long as you lug your bitching through the door with you after this party." I responded, my eyes darting to another change Lore'd made.

My gaming console, clear as day, sat under our one flat screen TV, also the biggest in the house. It was plugged in and everything, the cords neatly aligned to where it wouldn't block the path of anyone. I even saw my games and then some, clearly bought from her money as well.

"What the hell'd she do this for?" I sighed. "This'd get stolen in a heartbeat."

"How many people were you expecting to show up to this... hodgepodge." Nicky continued snooping around the living room, as if she were stranded in the jungle. "I wouldn't steal from ya'll if you paid me."

"Even one rouge Butcher Cross student's enough." I said. "If even a hair's missing from this house after the party, you'll be seeing me and Lore at our closed-casket funeral service."

"Granted your family could afford even that."

I snapped; three was the limit of how many poor jokes I could take coming from someone who'd just hailed from heaven. That was the exact reason I didn't want her around. With her usual bitchiness, combined with several hundred acres of material, she'd be insufferable for as long as she could keep her mouth moving.

It was one thing to joke around, but just being an asshole in my damn house is another.

"Go..." I swallowed what I actually wanted to say. "...dry hump the door or some shit-- god! Your voice is grating!"

She stuck her tongue out at me, but anything was better than her opening her stupid mouth again. I walked toward the table tennis set, feeling the surface.

'This is the real deal, alright.' I glanced at the DJ set across the room. 'I can tell from here that is too.'

Yet, who was going to work that stand was a better question I could've asked myself. Imagining her behind that set was a picture, a silly one at that. But imagining the music I knew she'd play was another story. I feared the things that could happen there.

Even still, Lore seemed nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Am." Baun called from across the room. "Come look at this."

I walked over to him, Nicky at his side. A small piece of paper sat on the counter in front of the kitchen, nearly blown away by the running fan. Baun held it down with a finger and read aloud.

"I'm out getting the final touches for this party." The note said, in Lore's neat-freak handwriting. "Help yourself to whatever you want. We've got plenty. *smile*"

I could never understand Lore's obsession with adding an emoticon to anything she wrote, regardless of context. Still, it was a bit relieving knowing she was away from the house. At least, then, I wouldn't have to witness that conversation between her and Nicky, else my head might actually fucking explode. I tapped against the table, clicking my tongue with not much surprise.

"Welp, shit, I guess." I snapped my fingers, leaning toward the table tennis set. "Would be a damn shame if we wore this shit out before anyone arrived."

Baun caught on immediately, following suit.

"Oh, you're on, you son of a bitch." Baun boasted, grabbing his paddle and spinning it in the air. "I'm ready whenever."

I looked him in the eyes, the feeling of the paddle in my hand filling me with determination and fueling my drive to win.

"You count us off, Nick." I said.

She folded her arms at the table's side, stubborn.

"Just serve the damn ball." She snarled.

"Please?" I pleaded, seemingly working.

She raised an arm limply at the center of the table, disinterested.

"You ready?" She sighed.

Neither of us responded, eyes locked on one another. It stayed that way for what seemed like minutes, but eventually, Nicky dropped her arm, initiating my serve.

///

The doorbell rang, and Baun and I finally pried our hands from our controllers, ending hours of competition. We were neck-and-neck, for the most part, but when we weren't, I'd have to admit I had my ass handed to me. Nicky spectated our matches for the entire duration; we asked her, but she seemed content just watching. Knowing her, despite the money her family makes, I'd be surprised to see her hold a controller.

I stood from the couch, opting to be the one to open the door. With how early it still was, it was likely Lore; there was no avoiding that conversation now. I peered through the peephole, but to my surprise, it was about the farthest thing from what I'd thought. Such a familiar face but so off-putting seeing him at my doorstep.

I opened the door, allowing the small group in.

"You've got a nice place on you." Tyriq said, his eyes navigating the space. "Who all's here?"

He locked eyes with Nicky, but he evaded the gaze, his attention shifting immediately to Baun who turned around at the couch. His friends lingered close behind, not a whole lot but enough and a bit different from what I expected. One immediately went for the food, a skinny, nerdy white guy, but the two other friends, one taller and lankier and the other a heavy-set guy, looked hesitant to enter my house.

"I dunno if we can trust this, Ty." The bigger guy uttered. "He's a Butch, right?"

Ty turned around, meeting them back at the door.

"Boy, if you don't get your fat ass in this house, you'll be standing there all night." He tested.

"Fuck you, man." His friend finally walked in.

The other guy wasn't scared but couldn't be bothered. It seemed like he wouldn't move unless I forced him. He kept his hands in his pockets, and his clothes were simple and rough, kinda reminding me of myself in a way. He had black hair that reached to his ears, and his eyes were almost dead; was he high?

Ty tapped me on the shoulder.

"He's waiting for permission to enter..." He whispered.

"Permission?" I laughed a bit, turning to him. "Make yourself at home, man."

I guessed he was some quiet, polite type. He walked in immediately, shaking my hand and meeting his friend at the small food bar at my kitchen counter. His bigger friend sat next to Baun, and Tyriq joined them, grabbing a controller of his own.

The pre-party was turning out to be promising; even if these were the only people to show, it would still be fun as all hell. I closed the door as the sun seemed to be setting already, joining the fun at the couch as Nicky watched over our shoulders. The two guys at the kitchen counter made conversation amongst themselves, a small whisper behind the yelling that'd slowly crescendo as we settled into our competitive alter egos.