Chapter 18
eighteen
ASTRID
Returning home from the MUN conference, I looked forward to a quiet evening with a new book I’d brought today to read in downtime but never got around to. It ended with the students addressing a global cybersecurity incident. Parker hated me, but he learned to respect me. I took the high road. We must be professional like the co-workers we were. I didn't like him but would remain civil.
Amara appeared in the doorway as I dropped my bag and threw myself onto the bed. She was in a full face of makeup, a slinky top, and a short skirt.
“You going to the party?”
“What? No,” I answered. “What party?”
“Jeremy's going to be there. His friend said so.”
I perked up. “He is?”
“Niall Ferguson is having a party; it will be so much fun. You know the show Tasker ?”
“No?” I answered.
“So, there is a Tasker. He assigns these ridiculous challenges spur-of-the-moment, and you have to do them. He will assess points, and the most points win. He's going to have all do it. It's his birthday, and he's the Tasker!“
“And Jeremy is going?”
She nodded. “He is. Change. Look hot! Come with me! Let's not miss out!“
“I am so knackered, Amara!”
“Okay, fine, but you're missing out , darling. This is going to be so fun.”
“Fine,” I agreed. “Give me an hour.”
“You have forty minutes, or I am leaving you!“
I groaned.
“Go, do makeup and hair. I will sort out an outfit for you. It's casual.”
“Fine, fine, whatever!“
Dipping into the bath, I did my best to match Amara's level of sexy, smoky eye. I indeed failed, but I tried. Makeup was still new to me. I'd not been permitted it for years. I was still in grade eight in terms of experience and worried it always showed. If I went to an engagement, I had help. Real life in the normal world didn't provide such things. Amara came to the rescue, helping me pull my hair into a flawless twist. She pulled a pair of jeans and a blouse that appeared to work. I put them on, still feeling awkward about exposing cleavage.
“See, you look darling!“
“But will it work?”
“Jeremy is going to feel you are sufficiently fuckable like this, yes!“
I snickered. “I am not trying to fuck him... am I?”
“You aren't? You talk to him enough to make a case for it.”
It was perhaps true. I'd been out drinking with a few of them that week. I flirted with him too much to deny I had a crush. I did. He was handsome. He had a divine jaw and cute curly hair. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted a proper kiss from someone who wasn't a cheating bastard. Would I ever get laid? Maybe there was still a chance!
We walked to Niall's house just up the block. We arrived, drinking with the other attendees. I set my sights on Jeremy.
“Hey,” I approached him at the kitchen island’s makeshift bar .
“Hey. Well, damn, you clean up nice, Deschamps,” Jeremy said.
I blushed. “You don't... do too bad yourself.”
“I am glad you came,” Jeremy said. “Amara told my housemate that you were busy today at some thing?”
“Yeah. It's over now.”
He stared like he wanted me. Maybe there was a hope? His gaze gave me strange goosebumps like those I’d had when I first met Tim Sheers, aka Shit Guitarist.
“Glad I came,” I added, voice a little nervous.
“Hey! Listen up! Attention! Attention!“
A voice called.
We reported to the living room. There, Niall stood, holding a paper with a gold seal. Unfortunately, near him was my new nemesis, the Dickish Duke.
“Why is the Dick here?” I whispered to Jeremy.
“He lives here, darling. He's Niall's housemate.”
My stomach sank.
“I know. Does not compute. Aristocrats run in the same circles, I guess?”
“What?”
“Niall's father is a Duke,” Jeremy explained.
“Oh, I had no idea! He's so normal!“
“His mother is the Queen's best friend.”
Niall was a bit gregarious but not flashy or particularly impressive. Of course, Parker impressed me even less. Today, in a properly fitted shirt, he’d almost passed for a respectable and attractive member of society. Dressed down again, his dorky jumper and beaten-up trainers—that he wore with everything—he didn’t scream “Duke Material” as much as an SOS for style help.
“Alright!“ Niall said. “The first task is an individual task. Rules are. I judge all of your results. Half of you will be eliminated in round one. Who wants to read the first task?”
I tried to keep up since I'd never seen this show, but my competitive spirit made me want to win this. I was dying to triumph over the Dickish Duke. I would work tirelessly to do so .
“Here, Amara, you read it!“
Amara stepped forward and opened the paper, breaking the seal dramatically. I loved her for it.
“Step one—take a paper plate. Put it on your head and draw a horse.”
Someone handed out paper plates and markers. I put mine on my head and did my best. There were few things I knew better than a horse. I was out to win. It was a laugh, though. Jeremy and I were in stitches.
“I'm dreadful. I think it's just a horse's ass,” Jeremy laughed.
“I own half a dozen. If I cannot do it, heaven help me!“
We looked at our handiwork.
“Wow, you did well!” Jeremy said.
“We have a winner!” Niall declared! “It's Astrid!”
I did a little bow and stood to see Parker staring. To my surprise, his horse wasn't terrible, nor was Jeremy's. Was he jealous? If so, I’d show him! Drinking and playing games brought out my most competitive side.
“Let's join forces to succeed,” I whispered to Jeremy. “And then kick Parker's ass. Yeah?”
“I love the way you think, little shit stirrer,” Jeremy said.
He gave me a high five. I giggled. Amara was right. This would be okay.