Page 29 of Pieces of Us

‘I’ve watched every interview of yours. Who would have thought little miss teletubby would turn out to look better in a bra than anyone I know. The white, skimpy one when you interviewed the Vanderpump cast was my favourite.’ He winks, trying to flirt with me. I’m disgusted that he’s still so one-dimensional, basing a woman’s worth on her looks.

‘Stop being perverted,’ Rome snaps to my defence. ‘And stop with your deluded comments about weight.’ Rome and Lily are two of a handful of people who know the entire downfall of me, and they are protective when the issue is brought up.

There is an awkward lull where Joel shifts on his feet. I bet he regrets coming over here. His face turns beet red as Lily all but hisses at him and Rome staunches over him, sneering.

‘I was just complimenting Amity on…finding herself,’ he tries to backtrack. It’s as insincere as a sentence could be.

Not wanting to cause a commotion, I de-escalate the situation. ‘I appreciate it, Joel. We’ll catch up later.’ I swiftly dismiss him by looking at my phone. For a few more seconds, he stands there, but when it becomes apparent that none of us are going to continue the conversation, he sulks away.

I close my eyes, shutting the world out as I let out a soothing breath. That interaction reminds me why I’m so much better off in Los Angeles.

Lily has gone back to texting one-handed while she holds mine in the other while Rome resumes sitting. Jas hands me my water and then saunters off with some of her own friends.

‘Hey.’ A forced drawl has my body seizing up as if it has gone into self-preservation mode. The crunch of plastic crackles in my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Lily has put down her phone.

Lincoln Hayes.

Slowly tilting my head up, giving myself one last inner pep talk, I meet his gaze head-on. He smiles brightly down at me, but it’s not the usual easy one I have imprinted in my memory. Even after all these years, I know all of his tells. When he’s happy, sad, angry, horny. With just a look in his direction, I can see whatever emotion he has on his face. Right now, he is feeling the same as I am. Uneasy and unsure.

‘Hi.’ It’s barely a murmur, but I am proud of myself for at least acknowledging his presence in a somewhat friendly tone. Needing a couple of extra seconds to compose myself, I take a sip of water, hoping it trickles down my throat slowly enough that someone else says something first.

‘Your dad still throws awesome parties.’ Rome comes to the rescue, giving Lincoln one of those boy nods.

‘Yeah, he does. Thanks for coming, guys. I know Dad’s stoked to see you all again. Especially you, Amity.’ My name on his lips triggers some long-buried emotions in me that I’ve tried to repress over many years.

‘Thanks for having us.’ I finally find my manners.

Lily doesn’t utter a word, instead blatantly ignoring his presence by turning her face. Rome doesn’t try, either. After a thick bout of silence, I see his face fall, like he’s finally getting the message loud and clear that none of us want to acknowledge him, let alone speak to him.

I thought I made that abundantly clear yesterday.

‘Well…enjoy.’ He scurries off. If he could have sprinted and not drawn attention to himself, he would have.

Lily’s hand squeezes mine. ‘You alright, babe?’ she asks.

‘Yeah. Glad that’s over.’ I lie down next to her. ‘Let’s just enjoy as much as we can,’ I suggest, trying to salvage the afternoon.

‘I think more drinks are in order then.’ Rome hops up. ‘More vodka, lime and sodas?’

Our enthusiastic nods send him on his way.

When he returns, the mood picks up. I laugh and gossip with friends and talk with other people who approach our little group. It’s lighthearted, and my spirits are up. Music and chatter float through the backyard, and the novelty of my fame wears off. I flit from group to group of familiar faces and catch up on the last six years. The only group I vehemently avoid is the guys by the pool, including my ex.

I’ve eaten more than my weight in coleslaw, barbecue and pav, and I’m jovial and content. I adore seeing my dad and Uncle Jacob together. What happened between Lincoln and I could have broken them, but it didn’t. For that, I am thankful. Rome has been my guard dog all afternoon and Lily has been glued to my side.

My bladder protests. If I don’t find a bathroom soon, I just might die. Okay, that’s a little dramatic, but I’m squeezing every muscle I have down there as I wait in the world’s longest line. When I start jiggling on the spot, I know it’s a mistake.

‘Amity, what in the world? Go upstairs, you fool, and use that bathroom,’ Uncle Jacob chuckles as he fetches another garbage bag. Upstairs is usually off-limits, but he makes an exception for those closest to him.

‘You’re the best.’ I bolt up the stairs two at a time. My shoes are slowing me down, so I kick them off mid-way.

I could find my way through this house even if I was blindfolded, so I know it’s two doors to the left.

After finishing my business, I look in the mirror to see how much damage the sun has caused me. My cheeks are a little rosier, but that could just be alcohol tinging them. I have never been more glad to have my hair off my face and neck. After surveying that I still look semi-fresh, I waltz out of the bathroom, colliding with a wall of muscle.

Lincoln.

He’s trapping me in the hallway with no other way to escape. I move to manoeuvre around him, but he blocks my path.

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