“Cece? Oh my God, you look gorgeous!”
I turn at the familiar voice and plaster on my widest smile. “Oh, Rachel! So good to see you!”
Rachel was on the school’s B netball team with me, and a fellow witch in The Crucible. We hug and she introduces me to her partner, Morgan.
“What are you up to now?” I ask.
“I’m a personal trainer! We moved back from the Waikato a year ago, and Morgan started her own accountancy business. How about you? Still nursing?”
“That sounds wonderful.” I force myself to keep smiling, even as my already tender insides roil atthequestion. “No, not nursing. I own a bar in the city.”
“No way! What’s it called? We’re coming up for our anniversary next month, we’d love to pop in.”
I don’t know if Afterglow will even be operating next month, but I help her find our socials anyway, and she coos over Ada’s artistic shots as she hits the follow button. Lydia from netball finds us next, then a couple of other girls from our year join our catch-up. Like me, everyone is deeply invested in the downfall of Roger the Pharmacist and his affair with the German au pair.
As we talk, we’re slowly shuffled along the bar to a high-top near the dancefloor because God forbid the actual re-unioning we’re doing interfere with anyone’s binge drinking. As much as I hate Jenny Wallis, she has done a great job with the party. Couches are scattered around, high-tops dotted with tea candles along the side of the dancefloor. There’s a lot of dark linens and shadow cleverly disguising the fact that this room’s held the wedding reception of half the people here tonight.
“Hey, Cece,” a male voice says.
I whip my head around so fast I almost sprain it. All hopes of Will evaporate, though, because it’s Xavier McColl, his light brown hair smooshed over to one side, the way it’s always been.
“Hey Xav, how are you?”
“Okay. Been a while.”
“You were in my bar a month ago for Henry’s stag.”
“Oh yeah, the murder bar. You work there, yeah?”
“No, it’s mine. I own it.”Didn’t I just say that?
“Ada works there too, doesn’t she?”
A prickle starts at the base of my spine, the same one that comes every time a new envelope from the bank lands on my desk. We’ve drifted slightly away from the group of girls, and Xav is now staring down at me with a weird energy. “No, she?—”
“She coming tonight?”
“I don’t think so,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “You know, Ada, she’s not much for school spirit.”
“Huh. You know, I thought I saw her at my work today.”
The prickle has moved all the way to the base of my neck. “Where are you working?” I ask, even though I already know.
“Thompson Farms,” Xavier says coldly. “So where exactly is?—”
“Cece!”
I recognise that voice immediately, and the prickle spreads between my shoulder blades. “Thrasher!” I match his tone of surprised delight, but neither of us means it. His smile flicks away like a switchblade.
“It’s Dan.”
“Oh, right, sorry, Dan. How’s things?” I’m more than happy to pretend the last time I saw him harassing Ada in her playpen never happened, at least while we’re in public.
“Doing well, just here to enjoy myself.” He peers around me, to the high top that I realise is now deserted. The girls have moved to the dancefloor, with Morgan and Rachel twirling in each other’s arms. “You here alone?”
“We’re all here together, aren’t we?”
“Sure. Where’s that mate of yours?”
