Page 8 of Untraced Magic
I pulled the lid off the water and took a sip, welcoming the liquid as it slid down my throat. “You don’t mean at 19 Cutters Terrace, by chance?”
Skye’s brows creased. “Yeah. Have you been invited?”
I nodded. “Yes, by a guy named Wesley… Is he your brother?”
She shook her head. “Wesley’s my brother’s flat mate. You must be the neighbor he mentioned. This place iswaytoo small.”
At least I would knowoneperson there apart from this Wesley guy.
Skye whipped the tea towel off her shoulder to dry a coffee mug from the rack behind her.
“How about I stop by your place. We could go together? I’m hardly going to know anyone there either. What do you say?” she suggested.
I smiled cautiously as Skye turned to take another customers payment, unsure if making friends was the best idea, but I liked her theory.
I waited until she was free to speak again. “Strength in numbers, you reckon?” It was better than walking into a party full of strangers alone.
Skye laughed. “Yeah, something like that.”
I paused momentarily. “I’m at number 17. See you at five?”
She grinned, waving me goodbye. “Sounds like a plan.”
I raised my bottle to her on my way out, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. I only had to make an appearance; I didn’t have to stay long.
***
Later that afternoon, I shimmied into my favorite black jeans and slipped a tank and sweater on. I was always the first to feel the chill, and my pale skin was proof of that. Running my hands through my hair, I applied some mascara and a nude shade to my lips before smacking them together.
The heaviness in my stomach had lifted knowing I had Skye to go to this party with, happy to go along with her ‘strength in numbers’ plan. The possibility of making a new friend in town made me cautiously uneasy, yet another part of me, the part that longed for friendship, tingled with comfort.
Knocking came from the front door, and I hurried to swing it open. Skye stood dressed in black leggings and an oversized denim jacket with a cropped tee peeking out from beneath.
She held up a bottle of bubbles in one hand and did a ridiculous dance “Are you ready?”
I cracked up. “Just let me put my shoes on.”
It seemed strange to hear my laughter again. The sound so foreign to me after so many years in a state of permanent mourning.
I ducked inside, glancing in the mirror one last time to smooth my hair. Shoving my feet into my sneakers, I grabbed my ciders before following her outside.
We walked over to the neighboring house where the front door hung wide open, a pair of work boots neatly lined up to the side.
We let ourselves into an open-plan kitchen and living area that had an instant ‘boys’ pad feel to it. It had no particular color scheme, and men’s clothing sat drying on a rack off to one side. When I noticed the older-style couch and couple of armchairs positioned in front of a large TV and oversized speakers, I was certain of it. The dull thumping of a baseline hit our ears, followed by a few hoots of laughter erupting from somewhere below.
My head ducked to the side, following the noise that filtered from downstairs.
Skye turned to me with a raised brow.
I pointed down the dimly lit stairwell. “You first.”
The stairs lead to a large room with walls smeared black as if the night sky had spat out its insides in revulsion. Couches andarmchairs occupied one area, a makeshift bar set up in the corner and a large door held open, leading outside.
The rest of the room was vacant space, now filled with what looked to be some sort of sparring competition between two guys. One topless, one not. They were both good-looking and well built, but not in an over-the-top way. My eyes widened as I took in their fighting, each blow making me wince.
Skye instantly deserted me, racing over to a guy who was outside with his back to me. She gave him an enormous hug from behind. It had to be her brother.
I stood pinned at the bottom of the stairs beneath the doorway as curious stares landed on me from around the room, piercing my skin. Perks of being the new girl. I was used to it by now.
