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So many boys and girls. So loud with laughter and voices.
I weaved and ducked, finally finding who I was looking for.
My heart skipped, and a hopeful smile painted my lips as I drifted toward where she sat on the stone wall, cutting the grass from the flagstone pavers, providing a patio for the many strewn colourful beanbags.
She didn’t look up as I held my floaty dress, careful not to get it close to the vaping teens or the ones playing a drinking game. Zara sat with a group of older-looking boys. Older than even Aslan at first guess.
A guy with shaggy dark-blond hair—perched beside Zara on the stone wall—was the first to catch my eyes. He did a double take and looked me up and down, running his tongue slowly over his bottom lip. His navy-coloured eyes twinkled with mischief.
I looked away.
I wasn’t here for that.
I wasn’t here for anyone but Zara.
Gathering all my courage, I sucked in a breath, and whispered, “Zara...”
She didn’t hear me.
Of course, she didn’t hear me.
Even out here, the drum and bass music made my teeth ache and ears ring.
The guy watching me chuckled and rubbed his palms on his faded jeans. His grey button-down had some sort of Celtic design on the left breast pocket. Even sitting next to Zara, I could tell he was tall and well-built.
Looking past him, I once again focused on my friend.
She threw her head back, giggling dramatically at something the guy on her other side said. A guy with darker skin and black hair. She swatted at his arm in a flirt, her legs unfolding to turn more toward him.
The guy laid a possessive hand on her upper thigh. She licked her lips suggestively.
My chest tightened.
She had a boyfriend.
The way she swayed into him and whispered into his ear revealed intimacy that didn’t come from strangers meeting at a party.
She had an older boyfriend and had moved on with her life...without telling me any of it.
A familiar giggle ripped my head up; my eyes landed on Maggie. A fiery redhead who’d always disliked me for being with Joel and had done her best to get close to Zara but never quite managed it. She stood with the group of girls that Zara and I often sat with at lunch and studied with for exams.
Seemed when I was kicked out, she was invited in.
With my stomach churning, I stepped closer to the two guys flanking Zara and dropped the hem of my dress. The vibrant sunset colours clashed with the outdoor beanbags and vape clouds, but I stood as bravely as I could, balled my hands, and said, “Zara.”
Her head ripped up; her brown eyes landing on mine.
Somewhere in the house, the drum and bass track finished, sliding into a more sensual trance song, giving a much-needed reprieve to my ears.
Crossing her arms and legs, Zara’s body language went straight into defensive. She looked me up and down and sniffed. “What the hell are you doing here?” Her white teeth glistened in the fairy lights around the patio. “If you’re looking to screw over my brother again, he’s not here.”
“I know.” I kept my chin down and stayed as submissive as I could be. “I didn’t come to see Joel. I came to see you.”
“Why? What on earth makes you think you’d be welcome here after what you did?”
My eyes prickled with sadness, but I kept my voice steady. “I know I hurt Joel. And by hurting him, I hurt you. But—”
“You didn’t just hurt him, you cow. You ripped out his fucking heart. Did you know he was planning on proposing to you next year? He asked me for advice on what ring you’d prefer and how he should do it. He wasn’t joking about getting hitched, you know. It was real for him.”
I froze. “I...I had no idea.”
“Of course, you didn’t. He wanted it to be a surprise. And you were too busy stringing him along and fucking someone else.”
“What? I never—”
“Don’t lie to me, Nee. You were caught kissing a guy the very night you dumped my brother at the Craypot! You were spied, red-fucking-handed with your tongue down some other prick’s throat mere minutes after you kicked my brother to the curb.”
“It isn’t what you think. It wasn’t just anyone. It was...” I bit my lip.
Should I tell her?
Was it wise to tell my oldest, dearest friend—who was now my mortal enemy—about Aslan? But that was why I’d come. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted her advice on what I should do next. I needed some outside perspective, and she was the only girl I trusted.
“It was who?” She snarled. “Spit it out. Go on.”
Balling my hands, hoping to God I wasn’t making a massive mistake, I murmured, “It was Aslan. The guy I kissed...was Aslan.”
