Young Writers Society

I crept up to the top of the stairs, crouching down so I could spy on the front door. The overnight bag, swollen with my dad’s gear waited patiently to be collected. A minute later I saw both Dad and Katie walk up to the door, his arm around her shoulders. He kissed her on the top of her head, then hugged her; saying quietly, “Don’t let Lyssa boss you around, Katie-bear, and don’t burn the house down. I‘ll call you in the morning, I want to know you‘re safe.”

“Ok Dad," she said, rolling her eyes at his back.

He straightened up, “I’ll be back tomorrow night, I’ll bring home dinner.”

“Yes, you‘ve said that,” Katie replied.

Dad smiled at her. I hadn’t seen his smile for a long time, he never smiled at me anymore.

“Lyssa, I’m going now,” he called loudly, not even looking up the stairs.

“Ok Dad,” I yelled back. It was what he did now, nearly completely ignored me, while lavishing attention on Katie. Usually it hurt. Tonight I was counting on it.

I watched him as he picked up his bag and walked out the door. He turned and gave a little wave to Katie and walked away, the door swinging shut behind him.

I waited there. Katie walked back in the direction of the lounge, but still I waited. I heard his car start up and drive away, but still I spied. Katie turned the TV on, but still, I waited. It was five minutes after he left, before I dared to come downstairs, carrying my silver heels and wearing a long white dress. I went into the lounge to see Katie, the bribe hidden behind my back.

She was curled up on the couch, but sat up, wide eyed, when she saw me. “Where are you going Lyssa? You’ll be in so much trouble if dad finds out,” she said, almost tauntingly.

“Well he’s not going to find out because you’re not going to tell him,” I said putting the bag with the DVDs and chips on the coffee table in front of her, then sat down beside her and started putting my heels on.

“You’re trying to buy my silence with DVD’s?” she said, looking at me mischievously.

“No, these are to entertain you when I’m away. You won’t tell him because you don’t want him to know who really broke mum’s favourite vase,” I said as I did up the last buckle.

“You know I won’t tell him, Lyss,” she said, leaning her head on my shoulder, “But tell me where you’re going.”

“To the Oscars.”

“The university ball? How did you get invited to that? I know, you’re going with David aren’t you? You know Dad hates him. He’s a bit of an idiot.”

I jumped up and glared down at her. “Katherine Emily Mckenna, you do not insult people friends. It’s rude.”

“Even if its true?” she asked, grinning up at me.

“It’s not. He’s really sweet and you’ve only met him once,” I said before striding towards the door.

I stopped when I felt her hand on my arm. “Lyssa, don’t be angry. I was just saying what I thought of him.”

I turned around and looked down at her, “You always say what you think. It will get you into big trouble one day.”

“Mum used to say that,” Katie said quietly, looking at her feet.

I wrapped her in a hug, “I know she did.” Pulling away, I gently lifted her chin up with my finger so I could look into her eyes. “I have to go now Katie, are you going to be alright by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine, its not like anyone’s going to break in.”

“Ok, call my cell if anything happens.”

She followed me as I walked out of the lounge and to the front door. “Bye Lyssa,” she said, as I stood beside the door, putting my black coat on.

“Bye Katie,” I said, looking back at her one last time before I opened the door into the night.

The cold hit me like a bullet, causing me to recoil, my exposed flesh coming up in goose bumps almost instantly. I swung my handbag up on my shoulder, buried my hands in my pockets and began my journey through the frigid air to our arranged meeting place. The handbag slipped down my arm, settling somewhere between my elbow and wrist. My breath came in clouds of mist as I walked down the weakly lit street, with every step longing for the warmth of the house I had just left. My face tingled with the cold and I was somewhat relieved when I reached the intersection, our meeting place. But this didn‘t make me any less cold. Under the traffic lights, I bounced slightly and waited impatiently for him to come. I stared at every car as it approached, waiting for the moment it was close enough so I could see past the dazzling headlights and discern its colour. He was late.

My heart jumped when I saw it, the silver colour, the right number plate. He was finally here.

“Hey babe, how‘s it going?” he asked as I quickly got in and shut the door on the cold.

“I’m freezing and you‘re late.” I said, letting him kiss me on the cheek before pulling out.

“Sorry,” he said, glancing at me whenever he could look away from the road.

“I forgive you,“ I said, smiling. I would have gladly waited out in the freezing cold for much longer to get the opportunity I was getting.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Lyssa.”

“Thank you,” I said blushing slightly and twirling one finger through my long dark hair.

I lapsed into a nervous silence, not wanting to say anything that would make me seem childish to him. I played with my pearl necklace as we wound our way through the streets to the campus; the pearls felt cool and reassuring.

“Don’t worry babe, everyone will like you,” he said thinking he could read my mind. He couldn’t.

“But this is a closed campus ball, why do you think they’re going to let me in?”

“Because I have this.” he pulled a small laminated card out of his pocket and handed it to me.

Milford University ID, it said and there was a photo of me, well actually according to the card a photo of Megan. “You want me to use a fake ID?”

“No its real, just slightly…doctored,” he said, flashing me a smile.

“What if they find out? I‘ll get in heaps of trouble.”

“Nobody will know the difference.”

“Ok then,“ I said, giving him a nervous smile, and waited for the next chapter of my fairytale to unfold.

After he parked, he opened the car door for me, like a real gentleman, and escorted me past the people socializing outside, into the brightly lit foyer. A red carpet stretched out in front of us, with a black rope division between us and the many life-size cardboard cut-outs of reporters and photographers. The closest one to us, a bearded man with a camera around his neck held a big sign: ‘To get to the Oscars follow the red road.’ Only a metre or two ahead of us the red carpet turned a corner. We walked quickly, expecting to see the entrance to the ball around it. Instead there was only hundreds of more cardboard people and another corner. When we turned this corner it happened again. I could hear other people in the maze but couldn’t see any. We turned so many corners I lost count, until, the red carpet narrowed and we caught up with a line of people, proceeding slowly through the big double doors into the hall. My heart beat faster as we advanced slowly, until at last there I was standing in front of the attendant. He was standing in what was like a cafteria service area and I could see coats hanging behind him.

“Ticket and ID please,” he said.

“Sure,” I said, reaching into my bag. My hands were steady when I handed them over, but my nerves were at an all time high. What were the consequences if you were discovered with a fake ID?

He glanced at them. “May I take your coat?” he asked, handing my ID back.

“Yes,” I said removing it and handing it over.

“The ticket with your name on it will be in the pocket.” he said, handing the coat to his assistant.

David was cleared quickly and we walked through the door arm in arm.