by A. E. Murphy
Okay… what? “You’re going to have to elaborate.”
“He treats women like objects and he’ll treat you no differently. I don’t want you getting suckered into his… charm.”
Snort. “You’re kidding?”
“No. I know, he’s my friend. I shouldn’t talk about him like that, but it’s true. He’ll use you.”
“I’m not interested in Leroy like that and he knows it.”
“What do you mean he knows it?” His eyes darken and I shift in my seat and bring both knees up to my chest.
Shrugging, I nod back to the TV but I know he isn’t dropping it so I sigh heavily and explain, “He showed up on my doorstep last night.”
“What?” His tone darkens even more so than his eyes. His vibe is menacing. I don’t like it.
“He seemed upset so I offered him a drink.”
“A drink of what?”
“Vodka.” I shrug, smiling.
“And he was up here? In your room? Alone? Where were your parents?”
“Chill. It was fine. He got the wrong end of the stick and I sent him on his way.”
“Wrong end of the stick?” His hands fist in the bedding either side of his hips. “He touched you?”
“It’s not a big deal.” I laugh nervously. “How did he touch you?”
Okay, he’s clearly upset. “He kissed me but I gave him my cheek, that’s all.”
“That absolute tool.”
“Chill out, Dillan. It’s done with and we’re staying friends.”
He snorts, “Oh, Leroy doesn’t do friends with girls. Especially not girls who invite him into their bedroom and offer him vodka. Are you insane?”
“I didn’t do anything worse than what we’re doing right now.”
“Yeah but you know me; you know I’m not like that. Leroy is… he’s not right in the head. Don’t spend time alone with him again. Okay?”
Frowning, I stand, needing space from him, but he follows. “You sound jealous.”
“Jealous?” He laughs as though this is hilarious. “Why would I be jealous? I’m with Leona. You’ve seen her, right?”
I let out a laugh, mostly to hide the fact I want to cry at that insult. “At least he makes me feel beautiful.”
“Leroy makes everyone feel beautiful until he gets what he wants and then you’re back to being everything you were before.”
A hot tear scalds my cheek, scarring me under my skin, directly onto my soul. “Yeah, because God forbid I could actually be beautiful, right?”
“That’s not what I meant,” he murmurs, looking ashamed and sad. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant at all.”
“Just go.”
“Go?”
“Why are you even here, Dillan? You have Leona, remember?”
He stares at me, confused by my question. “We’re friends.”
“Are we? Because even my worst enemies haven’t hurt me as
badly as you always seem to. I get it, okay? I’m not Leona. I’m not pretty, or slim. I don’t know how to apply make-up; my fashion sense is questionable and I eat more biscuits than fruit. I know who I am.” I wipe my tears on the underside of my wrist. “I know who I want to be and I’m honest about that. You… you’re nothing but a pretender. You come in here under the guise of friendship when in reality you just need somebody who isn’t quite loving life to remind you about how perfect you are, how perfect your girlfriends are and to give you the charitable ego kick you need to remind yourself of how good you are as a person.”
“That’s unfair.”
“You need to go,” I snap, raising my hands defiantly. When I close my eyes, more tears spill down my cheeks, opening the fresh wounds even deeper on my soul. “I’m not kidding; you really need to just get out of my house and out of my life.”
“You’re being so unreasonable.”
“And the fact you think so just further proves to me that we aren’t compatible as friends or anything more and that is my mistake.”
“Right.” He looks around for his car keys and snatches them from the top of my chest of drawers. “I guess I’ll tell my Nan to cancel that meeting if that’s how you feel.”
“It is,” I sniff, moving to the door and tugging it open. “Thank you for all of your help.”
“Sometimes you’re an absolute head case, Ty,” he sighs, stopping in the doorway.
“And you’re an idiot.”
“I’m not the one that reads into everything,” he snaps, still standing in the doorway. “It’s like I can’t say anything without you analysing it and twisting it into something I didn’t mean. You’re just hurting because I like Leona intimately and not you.”
“Oh my god, I just… I can’t breathe I’m so enraged right now.” I run my fingers through my hair and hold it tight atop my head so I don’t scratch his face. “You really, really need to go and you have no business telling me who I can and can’t hang around with alone. I’m sorry I ever liked you.”
“I’m sorry I ever met you,” he hisses and walks away, leaving me aching and broken in my bedroom.
“Fuck you,” I curse at the space he just left and sniffle like a child.
That escalated quickly.
“Honey?” Mum calls up the stairs. “Is everything okay?”
“Dillan isn’t staying for dinner, ever again,” I call back. “Oh dear.”
“I hate him.”
“Oh no.”
“Make my portion a double.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” I close my bedroom door and bury my face into my pillow. “I hate you, Dillan Weston. You arrogant arsehole.”
“Has she called or anything to cancel it?” I ask, rubbing my eyes tiredly.
“No and we have to go; we RSVP’d and I got a confirmation email this afternoon. He probably won’t be there anyway if he hates you as much as you hate him.”
“You suck,” I grumble. “I’m poorly.”
“You’re not poorly; you’re feeling sorry for yourself and you’re not missing any more school,” Mum snaps. “Now go upstairs and change or you’re grounded.”
“I like being grounded.”
“Then you’ll be ungrounded!” She yells, shoving me to the hall. “Go. Right now.”
“Fine.” I stomp to the stairs and stomp on every single step up them before slamming open my door and then slamming it behind me.
I might be being childish but I’m hurting and I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to see him so much I haven’t been to classes since that day and I haven’t even turned on my phone. I’m pathetic but I’m sad. He hurt me and to be honest I just can’t deal with any more drama.
Though if I’m being forced to go to this thing and there is a possibility that he’ll be there, I’m going to make an effort to look at least half decent.
I toss my new dresses onto my bed and eye them from a distance. There’s a black one that’s actually tight to mid-thigh; it’ll look gorgeous with my new silver bomber jacket and matching clutch. But then there’s also a dark green one that is a turtle neck with an open back. It’ll hide my small tummy pouch and make my butt look bigger, but it’ll also look like I’m trying too hard.
Fuck.
“MUM!” I yell, getting rid of the clothes I’m not wearing. “WHAT?”
“COME HERE!”
“I’M BUSY!”
“PLEASE!”
I hear her footsteps ascend the stairs as I throw the matching jackets, shoes and bags with the dresses on the bed.
“Which one?” I ask, biting on my lip as she assesses both. “The green one. That’ll make his head spin.”
“Not the point of the outfit.”
“Course not.” She grins, totally not believing me. “The green one. Go shower.”
“Can you do me another favour?”
“What?”
“Help me do my makeup.”
“I’ll open YouTube,” she laughs, picking up the TV remote. “Now please go and show
er.”
“I’m going.” I skip into the bathroom.
I’ve never been so daring when it comes to my looks. I shave everywhere and I mean everywhere, not because I think I’m going to get lucky, but because it makes me feel more confident and clean. Though I’m not sure that I like how I look; it kind of reminds me of how I looked when I was eight, not including the boobs, back before puberty hit me and I wasn’t yet bordering on the edge of obesity.
My skin down there feels rough yet smooth, depending on which way I drag my fingertips. It’s bizarre.
“Go with the nude stockings,” Mum shouts through the door. “The dark ones are just too much.”
Once dry and moisturised yep, I’ve moisturised for the first time ever, who even am I? – I skip into my bedroom completely nude and lock my bedroom door. It’s time to do my makeup. I’m not bad at it but tonight I want it to be perfect. I want the perfect wing tips coming from my eyes and the perfect contouring so my face doesn’t look orange. I have the makeup I need, I just don’t have the patience to use it every day.
I twist my hair in bunches at the top and pin them, so when they dry my hair is bouncy and full of volume. I leave the rest to dry naturally and hope I’m not ruining it.
After watching the YouTube video my mum set up, I follow the instructions step by step with a trembling hand. This is harder than they make it look.
I’m going to look like a clown by the end of this, I just know it.
Mum’s jaw hits the floor, my dad literally chokes on his beer, I try not to bite on my freshly coloured lips as I attempt to walk in three-inch black stiletto heels to where my parents are waiting for me in the hall.
“Could you do me a favour and tell my daughter to hurry up? She’s still not here,” Dad jokes, taking my hand and giving me a careful twirl. “You look stunning. I hardly recognise you.”
“I feel as though you just grew up in an hour and it’s making me want to cry.”
“Don’t cry; your eyeliner is perfect,” I snap happily. Their reactions are just what I needed.
“Is this jacket too much?” It’s brown leather and is basically the only thing I have that matches. Though it’s a little big, I like it.
“It’s perfect.” Dad opens the front door after draining his beer and leads Mum and I to his car. He even opens the door for us both, waiting for me to climb into the back seat before closing it.
“You look smart; your tie is perfect,” I tell him as I buckle myself in.
“Thank you, now remind me why we’re meeting your friend’s parents again?”
“His grandma is old school and likes to network.” I reply. “I think she’s trying to find Dillan a perfect match or something.”
“Ah, and we’re old money,” my dad chuckles. “What’s old money?” I ask them.
“It means we’ve had money and class in our family for generations. That’s why she wants to network with us.”
“It makes sense. You know tons of rich people, don’t you, Dad?” I ask curiously. I’ve never put much thought into it before.
“I have plenty of friends in the right places but I’m not friends with them because they’re in the right places. I’m friends with them because they’re good people.”
“Understood,” I say as Mum pats his thigh and smiles warmly. “That’s because you’re a good person.” She turns to me.
“Honey, you get out of life what you put in. If you’re a good person, you attract good people.”
“You also attract bad people and that’s why you have to keep your attitude. Good people will stick around to get to know the real you behind the sharp exterior.”
“I don’t need any life lessons tonight, thanks, guys. My head is messed up enough.”
“Oh,” Mum whispers as though I can’t hear her. “She still hasn’t spoken to Dillan.”
“Think he’ll be there?” Dad whispers back.
“Really?” I sigh. “You honestly think this is a private conversation right now, don’t you?”
They snigger together like naughty school kids and it makes me badly miss my brother. He’s missing out on everything right now, but then again, I bet he’s saying the same thing about us.
We arrive at the restaurant and Dad parks our car up front as instructed in the invitation. It’s taken by a man in a red jacket and I’m guided up the stone steps like a queen by my father. Mum trails behind, stumbling in her own heels, but I need Dad’s help right now. She isn’t trying to impress anyone. She already landed the guy she likes. If I fall on my face right now, all sex appeal is out of the window.
We’re greeted by the same man that greeted Dillan and I the last time I came. This place is still absolutely stunning.
I marvel at the tapestries and the huge chandelier on the ceiling. The walls are solid stone, like a museum, yet so well looked after. The tables are like something out of a movie. It’s so fancy and beautiful.
I’m merely distracting myself so I don’t look for him as we are led to their table at the opposite end of the room. It’s the best table in here, by the large windows overlooking a beautiful garden with fountains, lights and gorgeous flowers.
My eyes meet his mother’s first as she stands and kisses my mum’s cheeks before mine.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” she tells me after pulling back. “I see you have such a charming mixture of both of your parents. I can’t decide who you look more like.”
“Agreed.” Patricia Weston touches her cheeks to mine after doing the same to my parents. “Such a handsome family. Please, sit.”
I notice Mr Weston doesn’t shake our hands and I vaguely remember Dillan telling me about his OCD. My parents are cool though and aren’t offended. Though I suppose they think it’s because there’s a table between them.
“This is my husband, Nathan.” Gwen beams at him with so much love and when their eyes meet I see it reflected right back at her. “He’s a man of few words.”
At this he rolls his eyes and pinches her hip with his finger and thumb.
“Behave, you two,” Patricia snaps. “We’re with company.”
Gwen sticks her tongue out at the old lady behind her back, and my mum lets out a bark of laughter. Fortunately, nobody but Gwen notices.
“Dillan should be with us at any moment; he just stepped out to make a call.”
“He’s standing by the doors gathering the courage to join us.” Nathan speaks calmly, his tone rising with curiosity. “It seems our reasons for greeting are in the middle of a quarrel.”
My cheeks heat. I’m lucky I’m wearing so much makeup.
“Is that why he’s been so miserable the past couple of days?” Gwen clucks and presses her fingers to her lips to hide her smile. “I thought it was because I accidentally dyed his favourite shirt purple and blue.”
“Laundry isn’t her strong suit,” Nathan chuckles and places his leather clad hand on hers. My heart melts. “What did you do to upset my son?” He’s only kidding but the question scares me. I don’t want them to think badly of me.
“Nothing,” Dillan replies for me, seeming to suddenly appear behind me. “The blame is entirely on me.” Then he adds, “This time, anyway.”
“Guinevere, you must inform your staff to be quicker when asking for drinks.” Patricia sighs as she raises her hand to capture the attention of a nearby waiter.
“They’re all petrified of serving me,” Gwen grins. “I suppose serving your boss is quite daunting.”
“Exactly the reason I chose this venue, two birds, one stone. You must test them more. They’re failing already.” Patricia locks eyes with my father. “I’ve done my research on you.”
My dad’s eyes lift from the leather-bound menu. He looks terrified.
“There’s a waiting list for your practise.”
“Always is.”
“A waiting list of forty-three.” She looks mildly impressed. “And you are on call for members of the royal family.”
One of the things I love to
brag about.
“I’d like to think I’m good at what I do.” He smiles, showing off his own set of perfect teeth. “Most of my clients are also my father’s clients.”
“Have you ever been chomped on?” Dillan asks, making my mum laugh.
“That’s what I asked his father the first time we met.”
I don’t look at Dillan, despite the fact I feel his eyes burning into me. I don’t want to look at him. I’ll not forgive him for saying he wishes he never met me. Not yet anyway. Not unless he apologises and means it. I’m not entirely convinced I even want him to apologise either. He really hurt me, so much that I waxed my eyebrows to feel better. That’s a form of self-harm… it has to be because it really bloody hurt.
He keeps trying to capture my eyes, especially when the adults lose themselves in conversations that are of no interest to our age group. Is he looking for a companion at this dinner? I certainly hope not. I’m too busy eyeballing a young man across the room who looks to be as uncomfortable as I am.
Truth be told, I want Dillan to think I’m looking at other men. I want him to know I don’t worship the ground he walks on anymore.
We order food after our drinks arrive and it’s as we’re waiting that Dillan taps my foot with his under the table. I shift away and sip my drink, acting as casual as possible.
“Excuse me for a moment,” Dillan murmurs and stands. He rounds the table and stops at my chair. He nods for me to follow as his hands grip my chair and slowly drag it out, with me on it.
Mortifying.
I glare at him but take the hand he holds out to me and give the table an apologetic smile.
“You couldn’t have waited until afterwards?” I hiss as I’m pulled through narrow passes between chairs and past the table where I was ogling the young guy who was also ogling me. I give him my most charming smile and revel in my inner glee when Dillan growls at me.
If that isn’t jealousy, I don’t know what is.
We step outside into the cool air and I’m further pulled around the building, around a pillar and finally we stop in a private area between a few flower beds, a statue that I can’t make out in the dark and the pillar we just rounded.