This choice: Leave Megan at home and try to pass as her by yourself • Go Back...Chapter #5Your best imitation of Megan by: rockstatic   You drop Megan into a glass and leave her on the kitchen counter. Conceivably she could knock over the glass, but if she did that she would roll off the counter onto the floor. And even if she didn't, how's she going to escape from all the way up on top of the kitchen counter? You're pretty sure she's a safe bet not to escape. So, with a smile, you finish getting ready and head out.
Outside the dorm, you see a few girls waving at you when you come out, so you presume these must be your friends. You wave back and meet up with them. "Megan, are you feeling okay?" asks one of them. "You look different." You pause. "Oh, my makeup? Yeah," you say, smiling. "I wanted to try something new."
Another girl, a harsh-looking blonde, says, "Your hair looks different too," more snidely than she probably has to. You tried your best, but apparently you can't do your own hair and makeup as well as a girl who's been doing it (and probably little else) since she was a preteen. Still, you need an answer. "Yeah... I'm going really wild tonight."
That seems to work, at least for the moment. Your friends have plenty to discuss among themselves about what's going on in their own lives, and you don't have to say much except for a few well-timed bursts of "Really?" until you get into the club. You walk in, skipping the line, and find an open booth. Then one of the girls, a heavily made-up brunette with obvious self-loathing issues, turns to you and says, "So Megan... what's going on with you and John?"
Ah, shit. What are you supposed to say? "Oh, I don't know," you say, trying to put on a bit of a wry smile. "That's why I'm out here tonight."
All the girls shoot you dirty looks. What did you say? The one who first asked says, with a voice dripping with bitterness, "you're just going to drop him? Just like that? Megan, I knew you would do this kind of thing. You don't even care that he's my best friend."
Whoops. Bad move. Time to recover.
"Oh I don't mean it like that," you interject, trying to sound sincere. "I just ... don't think it's going to work out." You don't have much else to say, at least not without making up specifics you know won't be true. Hopefully this will be enough.
It's not. The girls continue to give you the evil eye. The blonde from earlier softens a bit. "Megan, are you okay?"
Finally, an opening. "Oh, you guys, I didn't want to tell anyone this," you say, frowning. "My parents are getting divorced." You put your face in your hands and try to act like you're all emotional. "I'm so sorry," you say through your hands, hoping it looks like you're talking through tears. "I've just been a total mess. I don't even know how I can handle it."
You look like you're about to cry. You deserve an Oscar.
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