Page 36 of Forever Summer

“So, are you wearing that? Or are you getting changed before the party?” I asked innocently, revelling in Megsy looking over her attire.

“No, I’m wearing this,” she said, her brows lowered.

I spun around in my chair, flicking my extra straight hair over my shoulder.

“Oh, okay, cool.”

“Why? Do you think I should change?” I could hear her words laced with doubt.

“Oh no, look, it’s fine, seriously, I’m sure it’s going to be pretty casual. There will probably be lots of tradies and mechanics there dressed in jeans and flannel, if I know the Onslow Boys’ mates.”

I could see the light dim in Megsy’s eyes; I couldn’t quite tell if it was hurt or anger, but it was definitely something. It was like I was suffering an out-of-body experience, that I could hear what I was saying, but I had no real way of controlling just how bitchy I could be. Tess would never in a million years treat anyone so badly, and I could just imagine her wide-eyed horror if she was a witness to me now. I guess this was largely the reason she was engaged to live happily ever after and I was destined to roam the earth alone, pining for the one boy I couldn’t have.

“Seriously, Megsy, you look really pretty, it’ll be fine,” I said softly; it was in a way an extension of an olive branch of sorts.

Megsy smiled, and that warm, girl-next-door exterior was back. “Thanks, Ellie,” she said, slapping her knees with a new-found energy before standing. “I’ll wait downstairs in the bar and leave you to get ready in peace,” she said, making her way to the door.

Her announcement was like music to my ears; finally, the last half hour I could do the final touches without fucking Megsy Swanston’s eyes in the back of my head.

Megsy skidded to a halt at the door. “Oh, hey, Ellie, you might want to just take it easy on the foundation, you have a bit of a makeup line right there.” She pointed. “You might just want to try and blend it in a bit.” Megsy winked before exiting the room.

I allowed my eyes to scowl at the empty doorway for a long moment, as murderous visions danced in my imagination of me whacking her in between the eyes with my straightening iron. I cursed myself for weakening in my defence; the olive branch I had extended was now fucking whipped back. Guess I had met my match in passive-aggressive comments, I thought, as I leant into the mirror, failing to see the so-called makeup line she was talking about.

What had begun as wanting to look nice for the party now entered a whole other level of getting ready. If Megsy was going to be earthy and adorable then I would be bloody sunshine and sex.

I carefully peeled on the long, flowing white maxi dress that had the most delicate smattering of yellow flowers embroidered, which cascaded down the flowing skirt. The stark contrast of my blonde hair against the whiteness of the fabric and the tan of my skin made me feel feminine and light as I slipped on my tan thongs and did the final check before swooshing out of the room at five to six.

Ha! With time to spare, I thought to myself with great pride. Adam would be shocked, in more ways than one, I hoped. I smiled to myself as I swung my way around at the end of the banister, feeling my heart rate spike as I neared the bar, the very empty bar, aside from a very familiar figure looking more disgruntled behind the jump than Chris could ever be.

“Hello, Melba!” I beamed; I would have thrown my arms around her if the large red gum slab of a bar didn’t divide us.

Melba was a buxom, grumpy waitress that ran the back of house with an iron fist. She wasn’t exactly known for her people skills, so on any occasion she was manning the bar, it was a clear sign that something big was happening in town.

“Aren’t you coming to the party?” I pouted.

“My partying days are well and truly over,” she deadpanned. “I will be most happy where I am, thank you.”

Melba had a sure-fire way of delivering a line that meant her answer was non-negotiable, and anyone that knew Melba knew not to push the point.

“Fair enough; I’ll bring you back some cake if I’m not too drunk to remember.” I winked.

Melba sighed. “I suppose I better get a proper look at you now in all your finery because something tells me you won’t be looking like this when you return.”

I couldn’t help but laugh; Melba had sure seen me on more than a few merry occasions—Adam helping me up the stairs with raccoon-eye makeup, twigs in my hair and shoes in my hand. Yep, it definitely wasn’t a pretty sight, and certainly not some of my proudest moments.

“I will try and behave myself.” I curtseyed. “Where is everyone, is the bus here?” I tried to peek out the window to the drive, where sure enough a crowed waited, but no bus yet.

“They’re all waiting out front. Meg said to tell you she’d be out there waiting for you.”

Yeah, I bet she was.

“She’s a lovely girl that Meg; her parents are fine people too.”

I couldn’t disguise my cringe, more disturbed that Melba, who seldom used the word lovely, had gone to the trouble to actually apply it to her. Ugh.

“Yeah, she’s nice if you’re into that sort of organic thing.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

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