I can’t help but look back at him with wide eyes too, because usually no one other than Phin understands how much I really love pop culture. I could speak in movie quotes alone if I was left to my own devices.
“Did you just Glinda him?” He asks, removing his hand as a grin sneaks onto his face.
“Did she just what? No. You know what?” Cardinal twists in his chair, pointing his finger at me like a teacher warning their student. “You stop this now Drew. Whatever you’re doing, stop it.” He wiggles his finger tips at me like he’s casting a reverse hex, and my own smile twists in bemusement.
“Drew? My name’s Robin. How could you forget after our magical ride together?” I ask, causing Wren to nearly spit his drink out. Beside him Phin starts to howl as the tips of his ears turn pink. Picking up his beer bottle, he raises it to his lips, shooting a pointed glare in the guy's direction.
“She means the fucking car ride here.” Taking a long sip of his beer before continuing, he motions to me, “You’re a crime writer, right? You wrote a mystery, like Nancy Drew.”
“Nancy Drew is a teenage sleuth.” I reply, biting my lip to keep from laughing at him.
“Same thing isn’t it?”
“No. I’m an author, she’s a fictional character who is a sleuth,” I make a forwarding motion with my hands, unable to contain a giggle. “She solves mysteries.”
“Well I don’t fucking know! Sounds like the same thing to me.” Cardinal chides.
I shake my head as he slouches back in his chair, nursing the rest of his beer. Patting his knee, I place my other hand on the brim of my chair, ready to propel myself out of it. “Thank you for the pet name Cardy. I’ll be sure to use it when I sign us both up to sing Fergalicious.” I say before pushing up, unable to stop a cackle of laughter escaping as I leave the table. Band karaoke was created whilst Phin was at boarding school, but he brought it over to my own dorm whenever he got the chance to sneak over for the weekend. We weren’t allowed boys in our rooms, but the house mothers were pretty poor at checking. He’d always go out of his way to invite what seemed like the entire floor; making friends for me, in his own way to make sure when he left, he knew I had people to depend on. The music grows the closer I reach the band, eyeing the sign up sheet where it lays upon discarded flight cases. I’m not actually going to sign us up to sing together, but I do want to put my name down for some good old Fleetwood Mac.
Lil and the girls are already there, flicking through the list of songs the band have approved they can play. Before I reach them though, I’m twirling, giving the table I just left a large grin. I’m taunting him, but it’s Wren that my eyes fall upon. His hair is tousled as his hand lingers in it, eyes like dewy grass meeting mine. My grin almost falters as I take in how his lips are pursed and I feel entranced, continuing walking backwards, further towards the loud music starting.
“I swear to god, I’ll sing Fergie over my dead body!” Cardinal nearly screams across the grass.
“Pretty fitting at a murder mystery party don’t you think.” Phin remarks, nudging Wren who doesn’t retort. He’s not the only one who looks torn, I realise Merle was unusually quiet and sits fiddling with a coaster until it flutters to the grass in pieces.
Chapter seven
Wren
KARAOKEhas been in full swing for a while now, but I haven't been able to bring myself to help the guys as much as I had planned. Phoenix is deep into a cover of Shania Twain, dance moves and all which has most of the guests on the makeshift stage space. I had originally thought immersing myself in playing guitar would have distracted me from the entire evening, but that was till I met Robin. I'm acutely aware of her at all times, drinking, dancing with the girls, watching the band play and even talking a number of times with that guy, Cardinal. I don't know why, but I really don't like that. She doesn't know him like she also doesn't know me, so why does he get her smiles?
Is he her type?
I've been sulking most of the party so far from the same round table, unable to stop myself just fucking thinking. I'm completely hung up on a feeling of unease, my growing fascination with the tiny brunette a brand new thing to me.
Minute details flash through my mind. I envision lines on paper, dots for freckles, Caramel orbs, an outline of plush lips,graphite smudges of long, soft dark hair. I imagine reading books into the late twilight, blankets on floors, hands entwined, piles of clothes, soothing music as lips collide over and over. But I also see cups of hot chocolate, sprinkled with cinnamon and cream which creates that perfect shade to match those eyes. My thoughts twist to hands embracing small versions of mine over the cup, a slight tremor as they hold strong for the perfect moment. I think of my childhood home, the love that finally flourished from a hard start, and the end that has a painful ache permanently etched into my chest. I think of Mum, of being left, like everyone always does. Futures and dreams ripped from me. Someone always leaves and I'm always left alone.
I'm so fucking lonely.
I might see so many of my hopes in her eyes, but I see her leaving too. So vividly that I don't think my already punctured heart could take another risk.
Nursing another can of soft drink, my eyes land across the lawn at Corbin, who all evening has been watching her with a predatory glare, when his fiancée isn't with him.Scumbag.Currently he’s in a deep discussion with Merle, speaking low, but suddenly both voices can be heard over the music. He looks bored, but speaks firmly which causes Merle's hands to curl into tight fists by his side, whilst he grits a reply through his teeth. I start to rise from the table, in case I'm needed for god knows whatever reason, when Corbin laughs and walks away towards the house. After a shell shocked moment, Merle spins on his heel, making his way across the lawn to where I am in my grey cloud of despair.
Despair not jealousy.
I. Am. Not. Jealous.
Throwing himself into the seat next to me, he picks up one of his half empty beer bottles and drains it.
“Bloody hell. That bad?” I gawk, because honestly I've never seen anything get under his skin before. Not even when Phin was up to his usual antics. The tension is buzzing from his body and it has me worried—I don’t deal very well with angry people.
“I know he's Phin's brother, but I just–I actually hate him. So. Much.” He says through gritted teeth and slams the bottle onto the table. He stares forward at the guests singing along and dancing, his eyes becoming glassy. If only he knew the half of it. If only he knew what was really going on with Corbin and Phoenix.
Guilt swelling, I have to take a sip of my own drink just to push down the nausea. I feel like such a terrible friend right now. I want to say so much, come clean about what we’re withholding from him and just deal with the consequences, but then I look around us, at the party that should have been thrown in celebration for the both of them. Instead we have to play some ridiculous game. I’m unnerved by his announcement,because well, he could have anything on me, but I’m pretty sure I know. Someone like him doesn’t just sit on information; they can use it to get whatever they want. There’s something about this party I just can’t figure out. If each guest is a jigsaw piece, I don’t see how we all fit together. What is the picture? Are we all meant to go full Hunger Games against one another once we find each other's secrets?
Phoenix takes a low bow and passes the microphone to his sister, who eagerly bounces and moves center stage onto the rugs. Bran hits the drums in a little warm up before they start, nodding over to Jay as he starts the pop song.
“My boys! Why are you both sad?” He asks, bounding over in his golden clothes.
