The Beginning Of My End

                                    

                                          
I got ready to go over to John’s house. I put on my blue jean mini skirt and my black tank-top with sequins on it. For my shoes, I wore a pair of black flats.
                          
I went downstairs but before I got out of the door my parents stopped me.
                          
“You look awfully nice for just going to Meagans.” Mom said.
                          
“What?”
                          
“You’re pretty dressed up just to go to Meagans.” She said again.
                          
“Her family is taking me out for dinner, so I wanted to look nice.” I said this without even hesitating. I never lied to my parents, but when I did they couldn’t tell.
                          
“Oh, that’s nice of them!”
                          
“Yeah.” I left before they could say anything else.
                          
John picked me up a block away from my house.
                          
“Hey babe!” He said as I got into the car.
                          
“Hey!” I said.
                          
He leaned in and kissed me before he started driving again.
                          
“My parents aren’t at my house tonight…” He said
                          
“Really? Why?”
                          
“They went out of town last night.” He said.
                          
“So, what are we gonna do?”
                          
“I dunno.” He said. “I figured we would just find something to do when we got there.”
                          
“Ok.”
                          
The rest of the drive, we were silent. The only noise was the radio.
                          
We finally made it to his house.
                          
“Well, here we are.” He said. “It isn’t much but it’s a house.”
                          
The house was really small. Instead of the size of a house, it was like the size of a garage. It was red brick.
                          
John’s family wasn’t poor so seeing their house being this small was a shock to me.
                          
“If you don’t mind me asking, why is your house so small?”
                          
“My parents like to give me the best things they can, but they said that living in a small house would help me appreciate the things I have.”
                          
“Oh.” I said.
                          
We walked in. The inside was beautiful! There were paintings on the walls, nice rugs, and modern furniture.
                          
He took me on a tour through the whole house.
                          
“I think I know what we can do.” He said. “It’s in my room.”
                          
At that moment, I thought I knew what he was talking about, but I was hoping my insticts were wrong.
                          
“What’s that?” I said, laughing.
                          
“You’ll see.” He was giving me his ornery grin.
                          
We walked up to his room. He had his own bathroom and everything. For a small house, it sure did have a lot of rooms!
                          
“I’ll be right back.” He said. He walked into the bathroom.
                          
I sat down on his bed, looking at his walls that were covered in posters of bands that I had never heard of.
                          
He came back out of the bathroom in only his boxers.