The obnoxious but admittedly vibrant poster on the wall was about to give me a headache with the screaming loud colors. The words were nearly indistinguishable, but I already knew what it would say. I'd seen posters like this periodically throughout the year, and they always spelled trouble, with a capitol T.

"I don't know Tsubaki…" I said uneasily, looking down at the flyer in my hands.

"C'mon, Maka! It'll be fun!" my friend insisted, blue eyes shining with excitement.

Tsubaki and I were best friends. We had been since a couple of guys were bugging Tsubaki in fourth grade and I had saved the day with a hard cover copy of the book Eragon. Tsubaki was tall, with long raven black hair and large indigo eyes that I had always teased her made her as easy to read as an open book. I always felt rather plain next to my best friend; my slight curves overshadowed by Tsubaki's severe hourglass figure, my shoulder-length ashy blonde hair thinner than Tsubaki's midnight mane. The only things I really liked about myself were my eyes; bright, emerald green, an exact copy of my mother's.

Presently Tsubaki was trying to convince me to go a party at one of the senior's homes. The senior in question—a girl named Elisabeth Thompson—was a trouble maker, I knew, and I didn't approve of how much time Tsubaki had been spending with the girl. Everyone knew she drank, that she used to be a street kid that ran around mugging anybody and everybody in dark alleys, that she was no stranger to drugs, that she was two years older than everyone else in their class, and that she'd lost her virginity before she'd started at the high school.

Elisabeth lived with her younger sister Patricia, who I believed to be in Junior High, or she might be a freshman, and a young man by the name of Death the Kid. Who on earth named their kid that? Everyone called him Kid. Kid was at least respectable and mannerly; Elisabeth, who preferred to be called Liz, had no inhibitions, and was entirely shameless. I didn't know about her sister; I'd only ever met her once, and while she seemed completely off her rocker for the most part, she didn't strike me as the wild type. But Elisabeth, on the other hand, most certainly did.

"Tsubaki, it just doesn't sound very safe," I insisted.

"It'll be fine Maka!" Tsubaki pressed. "Liz promised there wouldn't be any alcohol!"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. So, just because Liz, of all people, promised something, that meant that it was completely and totally true? Then a different voice spoke up from right behind me, making me jump—nearly out of my skin.

"Yeah, it'll be awesome. You gals should definitely come."

I spun around, and came almost nose-to-nose with the notorious BlackStar. Nobody knew his real name; that was all he went by. He was tall, wrapped in steel bands of muscle, and very, very tan. He had wild turquoise hair that was most definitely died and stuck up in every direction, and dark blue eyes. I might have said he was attractive, if not for his tendency to whore himself around the entire school. Behind me, Tsubaki let out a high-pitched giggle that made me want to roll my eyes, and give her a good smack to the face to wake her up from this fan-girl trance that she always entered when the guy was around.

"Hi, BlackStar," she said shyly.

The three-time senior winked, and I didn't have to turn around to know that my best friend had just flushed bright, beet red. Why she had to be crushing on the guy with probably the highest chance of an STD was anyone's guess, and even top student Maka Albarn—me—wasn't about to try and solve that puzzle.

"Well, I'll see you girls at the party. It's gonna kick ass." And he turned and walked away without so much as a see ya later. I shook my head. Boys—men—there was no helping them. They were all manner-less, insane beings that women would be better off without, if we didn't need them to reproduce.

"Ohmygosh, BlackStar winked at me!" Tsubaki gushed.

"Yeah, yeah, I saw," I sighed. "Just be glad you can't catch anything from him just by that action."

Tsubaki threw her hands into the air in exasperation.

"Maka, you have got to loosen up some time! Learn to live a little!"

"I'm loose!" I huffed. "I'm just not so desperate to fit in to this anarchy called public high school!"

"Come on, Maka, you have to go. It's an end of the year party; we'll never be back after that. Don't you want to have a little fun?"

"I have fun!" I said indignantly. Tsubaki gave a very unladylike snort.

"You read in your room in all of your spare time."

"That is fun for me!"

Tsubaki groaned and grabbed my arm, towing me down the school's front steps.

"Live a little, Maka! Come on, we're going shopping. I'm going to find you the perfect outfit for that party, then I'm going to do your hair and makeup, because you are going!"

"Tsubaki—"

"No buts, Maka. You're a senior too, and you will attend just one senior party if I have to hog-tie you, stuff you in the back seat of my car, and drag you kicking and screaming into that house!"

I grimaced because, as I knew full well, my friend rarely bluffed.

Great, I thought, I'm sooo going to regret this.

I looked at the ensemble Tsubaki laid out for me on her bed.

"Um…where's the rest of the outfit?" I wondered, looking down at the tight, super short bit of clothing that was a few shades darker than my eyes, and several shades too tight. "Y'know, some pants or a skirt or something?"

"Maka, it's a dress!" Tsubaki giggled.

I looked at her incredulously, then scrutinized the article of clothing again. It only looked like part of a dress. That thing wouldn't even reach the top of my knees!

"Tsubaki, are you serious?" I said in astonishment. "It looks like a skimpy bit of lingerie!"

"It looks great!" she corrected. "Now put it on, and I'll find you some shoes. I've got a pair of strappy stiletto heels that would do wonders for your legs."

She turned and crouched down to rummage through the floor of her closet. I pressed my lips into a line and hesitantly shrugged out of my comfy jeans and t-shirt, and slipped on the "dress".

Oh yeah. I was definitely going to regret this.