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Concrete cool against my jeans, flushed and stammering, I yanked my phone away from her.
“Oh my god, you little minx,” she chortled, curly black hair shaking with her shoulders.
I squealed and buried my face in the crook of my folded arms.
“This is huge. I’m talking… sharing a bottle of bubbly huge!”
First year of uni.
My first proper relationship—and of course nosy, meddling Anne had somehow glimpsed a stray sext. Her mouth was a slit from ear to ear, blue eyes sparkling as she tried to tickle me so my grip on the phone would loosen.
We were sitting on the stairs outside the pale stone building, and other students shuffled past us, hurrying to classes, commuting between two buildings, since our uni didn’t have its own campus.
“No, it’s not. It’s tiny. Minute,” I squeaked as I squirmed away.
She sucked on her teeth and gave me a little pat on the head.
“Aww, sorry to hear that,” she cooed.
Understanding barrelled through me, making my cheeks burn.
“No—it’s not—ughh, you menace!”
Bzzzt. The text wrenched me out of it, but the squeeze in my chest lingered.
Pri: dress code: kissed by the moon
A little scoff escaped me—half amused, half exasperated.
What the hell does that even mean?
Click, click, click.
The pair of borrowed silver sandals carried me towards the dining room, the short metallic silver dress cool against my thighs as I walked and tried my best not to tug at it as people’s stares kicked up nervous flutters in my stomach.
I couldn’t tell if the smoky eye was too loud or why—but my worries whooshed away as I took in what had been the dining room and the meaning of her text became clear. I smoothed my glossy, straightened hair down my back as I paused by the doorway, eyes glittering at the otherworldly theme.
A stunning backdrop of the night sky projected onto the ceiling, the stars almost twinkling to life, and a large model of the moon hung in the middle, like a strange chandelier bathing everything in a surreal glow. Alien-looking light bulbs lay peppered throughout, casting eerie purple or blue beams over the bodies pressed together on the makeshift dance floor.
The loud techno music thrummed in my ears, and the bass vibrated in my bones as I approached the mountain-like pile of gifts and added mine: a beginner-friendly watercolour kit to get her started on one of the many hobbies on her bucket list.
Casting an eye around the room for the birthday girl, I let a slow, warm smile tug at my lips as I pictured her reaction.
There. Beaming, dressed in a mermaid-like gown, dancing with friends I didn’t recognise, all of them sporting something in tune with the theme, be it silver eyeshadow, face paint, or oversized, astronaut-inspired boots.
Throat dry, stomach doing somersaults, I made my way over.
Pri beamed before I pulled her into a big tight hug and wished her happy birthday, careful not to get my dress snagged on one of the glittering spangles on hers.
When I hinted at her gift, glee sparkled to life in her eyes, and her mouth curled into a childlike, dazzled grin that tugged at all my heartstrings. The little crown she’d fashioned for herself caught the pale blue light, turning her into something out of a dream as she spun me around and introduced me to her friends.
The nerves tangling my stomach into knots had been unfounded. An hour later, my voice was hoarse from shouting jokes in their ears, and my cheeks hurt from laughter. By the time I headed towards the bar, in dire need of hydration, the strained smile I’d walked in with was nowhere to be seen.
My skin heated to a hundred degrees, and sweat beaded on my bare spine. I made it all of two steps—humming some god-awful song that had crawled under my skin—before someone collided with me.
Cold liquid seeped into my dress, spilling down my front and dripping down my legs.
My gasp rang out louder than it should have as my head whipped around to the culprit. My stomach plummeted when my eyes locked with Tiffany’s.
