Free Longboard (Desk Surfing Series Book 1) by Davila Eggert

when the subject matter was on guys so the conversation fell flat on that topic.  It was about 7:18 pm, when Malia mentioned that we should probably pay up because we had the office thing at Osmi .  I told them it was my treat.  So I paid.  Malia asked Jessie if she wanted to come to the office party at Osmi .  Jessie declined saying it was an office party.  Malia said she understood, which was great because Jessie had never formally declared that she wasn't coming.  I invited her out of friendship, knowing the odds that she would say yes were in the low single-digits. 
                  Outside it was kisses to both girls.  Jessie, I'll call you .  Malia, I'll see you at the club.   The sun was giving up for good and Nuuanu Ave. looked doused in pink glitter.  It reflected on the surface of cars, off of windows and white clothing.  Fortunately, I had my back turned to the setting sun so I could walk without my sunglasses.  When I got back to the parking lot, I could see my car sitting in the same spot where I parked.  But when I saw the car I felt strange.  I didn't realize why until I put my hand on the door handle.  I realized I just walked through two parking spaces to get to my car.  When I looked around the lot, I counted eleven space within eyeshot that were empty.  It was odd because Malia said she couldn't find a space, which is why she was late.  It didn't appear to me that the lot had ever been so full or perhaps all the empty spots were the spots she couldn't see.  Maybe that's why she just drove by.
                  I got home at a minute passed 8 pm.  I figured I could relax a bit before getting changed because Kapiolani Boulevard was like five minutes away, a bit more with lights and stops included.  But late night meant less traffic.  I had some TiVo to catch up on and I made myself a smoothie.  Watching TV always made me feel like I wasn't worried about anything.  It had that atmosphere of just chillin'.  I was just kickin' it catching up on American Horror Story , because I'm a weird chick.  And that's the kinda programming weird chicks watch.  That was my defense mechanism when dealing with dudes, to pretend to be one of those weird Goth chicks.  I was at one point but only for about a semester because I realized boys weren't into Goth girls.  At least, the boys I was into weren't into Goth girls.  And I actually liked to surf in high school.  But that was the whole point of being a teenage Goth girl in Hawaii, to tell them all you just didn't give a fuck.  That bottled-blonde, sun-tanned, surf-toned beach babe was the exact opposite of a Goth chick.  Goth chicks were dyed black or in my case just let the basic color grow out.  They were typically plump or super skinny, not athletic at all.  And they were pale as fuck.  It was an emphatic statement.  Fuck your standard .  And that was my pretend mindset.  I was just chilling on my sofa with a smoothie and a TiVo episode of AHS .  That's not what you'd do if you were anxious about running into your boss because you had hooked up with him.  I wasn't in my closet choosing outfits.  I wasn't already made up.  I was gonna watch my show.  After that, it'd be around 9 pm and I'd try to figure out what I was going to wear and shower, maybe even take a nap.  I wasn't bothered that I would see Longboard again, fuck that.  That was how I tried to handle it.
                  The nap came early.  I passed out a little bit more than halfway through American Horror Story: Coven episode three.  I liked the idea of a group of witches surviving in a world that wasn't witch-friendly.  I guess it's why I had thoughts of my high school clique when I woke up.  I guess my clique was still together as much as it could be.  Jessie and I were besties.  But I missed Mallory, Amy and Erin.  Like the witches on American Horror Story , I felt a certain safety in numbers.  I guess that was the thing I