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HE CLOSED HIS door.

          It made perfect sense, considering the fact that leaving his door opened was a one-way ticket to a noise complaint, but I still felt a bit let down.

          In a moment of pure desperation and resulting idiocy, I decided that Carter was right, that I did need a beer after the events that had transpired earlier. I didn't want to face the rest of this night sober and there was wine in the fridge, but my mother would rather I get drunk at some trashy, underage party than cut into her private supply of Rosé.

          So here I was, in front of Carter's door without a clue what to do. Of course, I could open the door myself or be polite and knock so someone else could open it for me and formally invite me in. I just wished it had been propped open so I could slip in completely unnoticed. I didn't want to stay for long or talk to anyone I knew from school, because that would be just awful. Carter definitely heard my whole dilemma, or at least, he definitely heard me sobbing next door which meant his other guests sure did as well.

          I lifted my hand to the doorknob and grabbed it, ready to twist it only for it twist the other away and make twist my hand along with it. "Dammit," I cursed as the door opened and none other than Carter Abrams had stepped out.

          So I had definitely said that for more than one reason.

          Carter Abrams was looking like a hot mess tonight. With extra emphasis on the mess part in particular. His light brown hair was messy, almost as if he just woke up before he started throwing his party, or just finished doing something I wasn't sure I wanted to know the details of. He was wearing a white, button-down shirt with none of the buttons done, both sides of the shirt freely hanging off his frame while said frame was exposed beneath it. Rock hard abs set against his olive-toned skin, he was almost deadly to look at. His jeans were black and ripped, so he must've been playing a show with his band somewhere, sporting the usual attire I've seen pictures of him in.

          "You came?"

          Those were the first words that spilled from out of his mouth as he looked me up and down. And before I could respond to him, the next words were "what the hell are you wearing?"

          "Make a girl feel pretty much," I nagged, rolling my eyes at him. I was upset that he didn't make it a minute without insulting me, but then took a look past him and I realized he had all the reason to. The girls I could see inside were wearing dresses or skinny jeans and crop tops with sneakers. I, on the other hand, looked like I had just rolled out of bed in my baggy shirt and gym shorts with a pair of house slippers on my feet. Of course, I had just rolled out of bed and I lived right next door to him, it just hadn't crossed my mind to get dressed up to go over if I was only going to walk the length of the hallway between us.

          He sighed before brushing past me and walking the short walk to my door which I had closed behind me. Carter gripped the handle, shaking it roughly before realizing I had locked it too. "I hate locked doors," he mumbled under his breath.

          What an oddly specific thing to hate, but I didn't put up a fuss, he seemed frustrated enough.

          "I can open that for you, I have my—" I started, reaching into the pocket of my shorts for my house keys, when he withdrew an object from his own: a Bobby pin. He had to be kidding me. I've only seen those work in movies and any time I would try to use them in real life ended up with me sitting on the floor in defeat for an hour before walking to the next closest house besides Carter's and waiting for my parents to get home. There was no way he was going to pick my lock that easily.

          He jiggled it in the lock for a few seconds before suddenly, the door swung open slightly and he used his foot to push it the rest of the way, revealing my kitchen and living room to him. I couldn't believe him, he honestly had the audacity. Not to mention I had no idea why he was trying to enter my house in the first place. This was basically breaking and entering.

          "Carter, what the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked, fiercely putting my hands on my hips so he knew I meant business. Of course, he didn't even turn around to see my display of power.

          "I'm getting you dressed, it's one of my parties for Christ's sake," he said. With no regards for the fact that he was basically going into my home without my full permission, he stepped into the kitchen area, taking a look around before turning back to me and saying, "mine looks better."

          "Well, okay," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest with an air of finality. "Why don't you go back to your nicer kitchen, Carter?"

          He even opened up the fridge, scanning the cooling drawer where the fruit was kept. "My god, you don't have any apples here? How many doctors visits do you get per week?" I was mulling through my brain to find a decent retort, when he withdrew a pear instead, taking a loud and crunchy bite from it with his perfect teeth like he was some reckless boy in a movie. God, I hated him.

          "I will tell my dad you were eating his fruit," I said threateningly. "And that you came in here without permission, and plenty of other things that will afford you more than just a stern talking to."

          He didn't even look back at me, instead he just waltzed on towards where my room was. On top of hating him, I hated that we lived right next door to each other so our apartments were almost identical in layout.

          "Look what we have here," he said as he stood in the doorway of my room. Of course, I hadn't been in my room for most of the day, so I did not remember the way I left it looking. Most likely, it was a pig sty and I was going to have to slap him on the back of the head for commenting on it because I was sure his room looked much worse.

          But when I followed him to my room, I had another surprise in store for me. Earlier today, before my mom left, she came into my room with a dress she accidentally ordered in the wrong size and said I could have. Of course, while it fit enough for me to be able to wear it, it was still a very tight fit on my body and I did not plan on wearing it for that reason.

          So tell me why Carter Abrams had a devilish look on his face as he ogled it, almost as if he could taste the chaos in the air that said decision would end up creating. "I already know what you're going to say, Casey," he started, "but then again, you already know what I'm going to say."

          "Great, so we can just never have that conversation," I said, ready to back out of the room out of sheer embarrassment and leave him there, but it was my bedroom and I did not want to leave him there and give him anymore ideas. "C'mon, Carter. I think what I'm wearing is fine."

          "It's not," he said with a sigh. "It's really not. Just try on the dress and you'll have fun. One hundred percent guaranteed."

          I, Mia Casey, the put-together and polite person that I am, was about to go to a Carter Abrams party. Every fiber of my being was rebelling against me, telling me to either go to bed or spontaneously combust or both. I didn't do this, but part of me wanted to, part of me that felt like it had been ignored for the longest time and wanted to be heard. And there was one thing standing between this and I: the damned dress.

          "Oh, what the heck," I said, throwing a hand up to pinch my temple in exhaustion. "I'll put the dress on, but there's no guarantee that I'll actually wear it, Carter. Now get out, and don't eat anymore of my food."

          He seemed satisfied enough with my submission that he quickly shuffled out of there, leaving me alone in the room to try it on again.

          I grumbled, stepping in front of my closet mirror. And when I did, a flash of realization hit me that maybe Carter was right after all. I looked a mess. I had no idea why I thought it was okay for me to wear slippers to someone else's house, especially when they were throwing a party. These were the tall, pretty, and popular girls who I shared a school with that made me feel insecure about myself at times. There was no way I would last more than ten minutes at that party with those people. I had to stop and wonder why in the world was I doing this in the first place. What did I stand to gain from any of this?

          I looked over myself at my baggy shirt, and my gym shorts, my toes curling in the slippers as a wave of nervousness rolled over me. I was really going to do this and I hadn't a clue in the world why. But I definitely had to do something about my appearance if I wanted to do it right and make the most out of it.

          "Come on, Mia," I said to myself. "You can do this. You've won how many spelling bees? Too many to count."

          "Oh my God, you're such a nerd," I heard Carter tease from outside my door, the boy breaking out into ferocious laughter and if it were anyone else, I would've been embarrassed. Something about this just felt right though, like if we were friends having a good time and not two people who lived right next door to each other but lived the most different lives that never really seemed to meet in the middle. The world just seemed to be turned on its head tonight and I was falling over and into his path.

          "Shut up," I hissed through the door since he wanted to listen to what I was saying. I picked up the dress gingerly, as if the first wrong move I made would ruin this whole thing immediately. Of course, I was being completely irrational, but what wasn't irrational about this night? When in Rome, I guess you could say.

          I threw the pieces of my haphazard outfit off onto the bed messily one at a time until I was standing in front of mirror wearing just my underwear. They weren't anything special, just a simple bra and panty set I had gotten at a superstore and felt appropriate to wear even in the comfort of my own home.

          Carefully, I slipped the dress on, sliding the smooth fabric over my body until it was fitted on me just nicely. "Wow," I said involuntarily, the words slipping from my mouth like a gut reaction. I mean, my hair was a mess and so was everything else, but I was too captivated by how my body looked in the dress to be too worried about all of that.

          "Come on out," I heard Carter say in a playful from the other side of the door, snapping me right back into reality. "I'm trying to see that hot body already. Don't leave me hanging like this."

          I rolled my eyes, upset that I had lost the previous moment of pure and utter surprise at how nice I looked. Now it was going to be tainted with the fact that Carter would be just as surprised. Deep down, at the heart of this, I was trying to impress him because he wasn't satisfied with what I was previously wearing and I wasn't satisfied with not going to this party.

          I opened the door to find that Carter had been sitting outside of it rather eagerly this whole time. Or maybe not the whole time because the pear he had taken was now gone, but definitely for a while. And when he saw me, all up close and personal like that, I could see his jaw fighting not to drop.

          "You look...," he trailed off, unable to find the words and I felt my skin warm up with embarrassment. "Different. Like, in a good way."

          While it was meant as a compliment, I could feel the undertones of insult beneath it, even if they weren't intentional. He was right, I did look different dressed up all like this, I was out of my element. But I didn't need him to tell me that.

          "C'mon, let's just go back to your place."