I don’t turn around, can’t risk her reading my face. “I said I’d be back.”
“The band just started playing.” She reaches me, slightly out of breath from navigating the path in heels. “Your father noticed you’d vanished.”
And sent her to retrieve me.
“Just needed some fresh air.”
She moves closer, her perfume a chemical taint among the ferns and damp soil. “Are you okay? You’ve been weird all night.”
“I’m fine.”
“Then come back inside.” Her hand finds my arm, fingers curling around my biceps. “We can dance. It’ll be fun.”
Fun. My lip curls. “I’ll take you home.”
Her hand drops. “What?Why?The party just started.”
“I’m taking you home.” My voice firmer. I finally turn to look at her.
She’s beautiful in the filtered moonlight. Her dark hair is artfully styled, her dress fitted enough to emphasise her figure without being overtly sexual. But I see the girl beneath. The one who torments Ophelia without remorse. Who wields her social status like a weapon.
Her lower lip trembles. A gesture I’ve seen her use on teachers when she wants sympathy. Nothing about her is real.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No.”
“Then why are you being like this?” Her voice wavers. “I thought things were going well. I thought you’d be excited about the yacht trip. We’ll get to spend so much time together, away from school and stress and—”
“Chelsea.” I cut her off gently but firmly. “I have a headache. I’m taking you home.”
She studies my face, and I keep my expression neutral, giving her nothing to work with.
Her eyes narrow. “Your dad will be upset.”
“I know.” If she doesn’t pass the invitation along to her father, upset doesn’t begin to describe what he’ll be.
But with my mother’s memory bleeding in my mind, I don’t care.
“Fine.” The practised pout is replaced by a second of cold calculation before she smooths it away. “Take me home, then.”
We walk towards the garage in silence. Music and laughter spill from the lit windows, but the only person I want to see isn’t here among the powerful and influential.
Soon, we pull up alongside Chelsea’s house. The outside lights are on. Someone could easily be waiting for her inside. I circle the car and hold open the door for her, hooking my elbow as she steps out. “I’ll walk you in.”
Sure enough, the front entrance opens when we approach, a tall man silhouetted in the glow. “Chelsea.”
His voice is warmer than his appearance, and she breaks away from me, arms extended for a hug. “Daddy. This is Damien, the one I’ve told you about.”
The smile drops from his eyes as he extends his hand, the solid grip crushing my fingers. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“Tell him about the trip,” Chelsea gushes, bouncing on her toes. She then proceeds to tell him everything herself, arms sweeping in large gestures, her face turned pleading as she finishes. “Can we go? Please?”
“Go inside.” He jerks his head towards the curved staircase. “We’ll talk it over with your mother tomorrow.”
She stands on tiptoes and plants a kiss on his cheek, then nods at me before following his instruction.
