SEVEN #3
I must have stood like that for several minutes until a thump on the door knocked some sense back into me.
“Some of us have got to pee, you know,” a girl’s shrill voice filtered through the barrier.
Pulling the flush, I smoothed down my hair and turned to unlock the door.
It swung back automatically, and the black girl I’d seen with Kieran earlier stood there with her arms folded over her ample chest. “At last. I hope you realise Weston doesn’t allow number twos in this bathroom,” she said with a smirk.
Nice.
I gave her an apologetic smile and then set off back through the house, threading my way in and out of guests.
As I realised Jordan and Jessa were suddenly nowhere to be seen, a shard of alarm shot through me.
I glanced around the garden, which seemed to be getting busier by the minute.
Where had all those people come from? There was a group of older-looking kids who were now surrounding the prop-up bar at the other side of the patio.
Whilst I was debating what to do, I saw the queue for the BBQ.
A tall, black guy with braided hair was grilling burgers, and I decided to get food, maybe soak up that fuzzy feeling that had started to spread through the rest of my body.
As I made my way past that group of older kids, a thrill raced through me as a guy whistled at me.
As I joined the queue for food, I pushed onto my toes and scanned the gardens over the heads of the partygoers. When my eyes snagged on Kieran’s side profile, relief pooled in my gut. At least they hadn’t left me there.
Squinting, I placed my hand over my eyes to shelter my vision from the sun.
Kieran was chatting with his friends. He held a cigarette to his mouth.
I didn’t realise he smoked. He never smelled the way my father did.
I watched, curiosity getting the better of me as he passed his smoke to the host, Weston Cavendish.
“Hey,” a voice cut in beside me. “Do you mind if I wait with you?”
I turned to glance beside me. A pretty redhead, around my size, had come to join me in the queue.
“Err, yeah, sure,” I replied, stepping to one side to give her some room.
“Hey, Dumbass, there’s a queue, you know,” a girl’s sharp voice bled in from behind us.
Dumbass?
The girl ignored them, fluffing her ginger hair with her hands. “Hi, I’m Halo.”
Halo. Interesting name.
She was small like me, but curvier than I was (wasn’t everyone), with striking green eyes, a small nose, and a pouty mouth. I would put her around my age, and she spoke with an accent.
“I’m half-French.”
My nose scrunched further. “Sorry?”
“You’re looking at me as if you were trying to place the accent,” she said with a grin.
“Oh, yes. Sorry again. Hi. I’m Amelie.”
“I know,” she replied, pushing her hands into her pockets. She wore denim cut-offs that showed her lightly freckled legs and a green camisole top. I noticed the pink Converse she wore. I’d always wanted a pair of those.
Shaking my head, I glanced back at her with a questioning look, wondering how she knew who I was with so many people there.
“Yes, you’re the talk of the party. Plus, you have a bitching name.”
“A bitching name?” I wasn’t familiar with the concept.
“Yes. Amelie is French, surely you knew that?”
“No, I didn’t. Sorry.”
“You say sorry a lot,” Halo added with a pensive expression.
“Sorry,” I added on purpose with a smile.
Halo flexed her shoulders and glanced toward the front of the queue. “So, you’ve caused quite a stir.”
I didn’t like that, and my face dropped. Her catlike eyes scanned mine. “Not in a bad way.”
What did I say to that? I went with, “Oh, well, thank goodness.” Placing a hand on my chest.
“I’m starving,” she added.
“Me too.”
The smell of burgers made my stomach clench; I was that hungry. But not like the real, raw kind of hunger that hurts your entire insides. Just peckish in the scheme of things. Once you knew what real hunger felt like, you were more than allowed to throw the word starving around.
As we got to the end of the queue, the handsome server took our order.
I didn’t miss the way he looked at us. Halo’s sweet-as-pie introduction then switched as we walked away from the BBQ holding our burgers.
“So,” she leaned in, her sweet perfume a little on the sickly side.
“How exactly do you know Weston?” Halo asked as we stood at the table with the sauces.
Adding a dollop of ketchup, I explained. “I don’t. Not really,” I said truthfully. “I just met him today.”
The confession didn't land well. If anything, it made the air between us heavy.
“You two looked tight earlier,” she said, her voice dropping an octave, “but please do take everything he says with a pinch of sugar.”
I blinked. “You mean a pinch of salt?”
She tilted her head, her brow knitting into a tight, confused knot. “What did I say?”
I bit my lip to kill a laugh. I imagined mocking her English wasn’t the way to go. “Sugar. The saying is, salt. Take everything with a pinch of salt.”
Halo’s smile didn't reach her eyes; it just sat there, awkward and frozen. “Oh. Right. Silly me.” I felt a surge of pity at the sadness I read written on her face. I was socially impaired on a good day, but I knew when someone was behaving strangely. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer; she just motioned towards a couple of free chairs positioned around a patio table. At the other end, there was a guy and a girl doing shots.
Halo’s shoulders slumped in defeat as we sat down.
“I don’t know. I’m just confused, I guess. Weston Cavendish is the master of the mixed message. Especially when it comes to girls.” Halo jerked her chin to a space over my shoulder. “Just look at that body.”
I twisted around and followed where she was looking at Weston.
He’d told me he was the host of the party around twenty times before Kieran had stormed over.
‘Stay away from my friends’ had been his message.
He didn’t say as much, but I wasn’t stupid.
I hadn't sought Weston out, so I didn't feel guilty about breaking Kieran’s 'rules'—but by the expression on the girl I was sitting with. There was clearly another person who didn’t want me talking to that particular boy.
The air between us curdled. Halo’s pupils were blown wide with a restless energy as she dragged her gaze back to mine. I felt a sudden, sharp need to diffuse any antagonism.
“I take it you fancy him?” I questioned in a soft voice so we couldn’t be overheard by the other two occupants of our table. “Weston?”
“Is it that obvious?” she replied, placing the half-eaten burger on top of a pile of discarded plates. I finished chewing and did the same, wiping my fingers on a napkin.
“Well, you have nothing to worry about. Not from me, I don’t really like boys.”
The transformation was instant. The tension drained out of her shoulders so fast it was like she’d been unplugged. Her entire face ignited. “You like girls?” Halo blurted her eyebrows sky high.
I let out a dry laugh and waved a hand. “Not like that. I mean, I don’t have time to date.”
“Oh, of course, sorry for being so weird,” Halo apologised, her eyes searching mine, brighter now, more curious. “It’s just… the way West was hovering. And you’re so pretty.”