Creative Writing: Folly Point

partially due to the fact that I rarely left my house, but mainly because I spent my freshman and sophomore, and half of my junior year buried under cooking books in the school library during lunch instead of socializing with my peers—Ice queen, they called me.
“We’re having a little get-together at Folly Point tonight, you should come.”
Folly Point is a lake that an oval shape and a great place to fish if the weather is nice, but Derick wasn’t going for the fish. During the night, Folly Point transformed into a place that encouraged drinking.
“My friends aren’t that bad. Sure, they’re loud and a little nuts at times, but aren’t we all?”
“I’m not.”
“You’re not a normal teenager,” he joked.
“Will Tamara be there?” Tamara Sigrid was Derick

girlfriend. They have been on and off for a year now.
“I think so.

Why?”
“She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“She scowls at me whenever she can, especially when I’m with you.”
“She just doesn’t understand our relationship.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her that we’re just friends,” Derick pulled opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. “Just come and check it out. If you don’t like it after ten minutes, I’ll take you home.”
I sighed, giving in. “Fine, but I’ll have to ask Gertrude first.”
“I’ll honk the horn when I’m outside,” he said.
I walked him to the door. “Okay, see you tonight.”
I waited in the kitchen for Gertrude to get back from work. Around seven p.m. I heard her car pulling up in the driveway. After a moment, I heard her keys unlocking the door.
“How was work?” she asked, dropping her purse on the kitchen table.
“It was fine,” I stood by the kitchen doorway feeling more usual. “Derick stopped by and he invited me to a…social gathering. Since it’s the summer break and I don’t have any homework, I was wondering if I can go.”
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Derick lately.”
“We’re not always together,” I lied.
“I read something in the advice section of a magazine. It said that a guy will never take you serious if you’re always

available.”
“Derick’s not like that.”
“I’m just giving you a little friendly advice.”
“Can I go?”
“Do I have to go over the rules again?”
“No drinking and drugs of any kind.”
“Be home by eleven,” Gertrude added.
I rushed upstairs to change. I took a quick shower and changed into a clean t-shirt and jeans. I brushed my auburn colored hair, frowning at my thick mane. I didn’t hate my hair, but I wasn’t too pleased with the color. My hair is naturally red, though my hair is more brown than red with a hint of orange. Derick nickname my hair color nutmeg—the perfect balance of spice and warmth. My hair flowed past my shoulders and I combed it behind my ears. My thick eyebrows matched my hair and my pale gray eyes resembled river stones. I stared at my