Dear Roschelle,

You were the one who formally invited Taylor, Annette, and I to the 'get together' on Friday, that turned out not to be a 'get together' at all, but rather a full blown party. Frankly, I'd never been fond of parities, it just wasn't something I found amusing, undoubtedly uncomfortable with an uncannily amount of anxiety attached to them - in short, parties were not my thing since I don't ever consider myself outgoing. But,that party was epic.

At the moment I can't recall who's house it was, but it was in that really nice neighborhood, parallel to the Creeks so the guys were hot. So, it wasn't surprising that I stayed out passed my curfew. That when I looked at the clock, my mom had already called eight times and I hadn't heard it. From there, man, did that party escalate, right around the time Jordan was challenging Nick to the street race (and Nick accepted!). We followed them outside and it was almost like everything was moving rapidly, not just everything , but specifically depending or whether or not I was actually drunk - you guys were moving stupidly fast. The race was tight, Taylor was upset that Nick might lose and he'd whine all night which is hilarious since Nick doesn't cry. He lost, we know this, but honestly things didn't get intense until Cara showed up.

Mind you, Cara hadn't been in school for weeks, so when she arrived we were all fairly surprised that she remembered Annette from me, and right from left. Her heels were literally five inches tall, and she easily could've gone for a stripper. I love her, I'm glad she wasn't as bad off as people were insinuating. George tipped her over into the pool, this I wouldn't have known if Annette hadn't told me later on that night in the corner, by the bar. And I knew you knew someone saw it! (People talk, this we all know!) You didn't defend her. Cara was your girl and she was hazed by George Piston. He taunted her from the rimming of that pool, as her the water soaked her makeup. Mascara was dripping from her chin, it was bad and I chuckled. Unfortunately, I was never able to formally apologize. You didn't defend her! No one did! My very first regret at that damned party!
So what happened? Did you not see him actually push her into the pool? Did you care? Are y'all still friends? These questions remain none of my business but they'd haunted me that night and I could never find you in time to ask in person. Little did we know I'd never be able to ask. I bet you thought this letter was a way for me to fault you for something that probably had no purpose in what happened in those early hours, but it isn't. And I'm not. That party, Roschelle, was epic! Thanks for the invite, I hope your well!

P. S. Can you still try to answer those questions though?

See you down the road, Clementine