Page 7 of Prudence
“Anything for you, Camille,” I murmured.
The light turned green, and I reluctantly let go of her hand. A minute later, I pulled to a stop outside Aidan’s house, the party already in full swing with music pumping.
Climbing from the car, I went around to help Milly out. My heart thudded when she glanced up at me, a look of trust her eyes. It was a look that said although being at a party made her nervous, she felt at ease with me there. Then she quietly slid her arm through mine and let me lead her inside.
3.
Milly
Every time Derek called me Camille, something warm and fluttery unfurled in my belly. It felt intimate, like a little secret between us. I’d never cared much that everyone called me Milly, but since my friendship with Derek, I’d developed a new fondness for my given name.
When I’d told him about my anxiety over attending Aidan’s party, there’d been no judgment, only patient understanding. These past months of having to come up with excuses every time he invited me out had been awful. My guilt had grown and grown, but Derek had just kept on kindly bestowing me with invites until today when I’d decided enough was enough. I was going to face my fears and go to a party with him. Iwantedto. In all honesty, I’d missed seeing him since school had ended for the summer.
Now, walking through his friend’s house with my arm through his felt surreal. He’d promised to stick by my side all night, and he had no idea how much that reassured me. When I was with Derek, I had this feeling of safety, like nothing could go wrong. I caught a few surprised looks from other girls, a couple catty, jealous ones, too, and had to fight the urge to self-consciously tug at my cardigan sleeves. I’d never been to a teenage party before and had to guess what might be an appropriate outfit. I’d guessed dead wrong because compared to the other girls I’d seen so far, I was dressed like someone’s mother. So many super short dresses and miniskirts.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Derek asked when we entered the large kitchen filled with teenagers, completely unaware that I was internally spiralling.
“Um, sure. What are you having?” I managed to reply, and Derek’s gaze flicked my way.
He cast his warm eyes over me, seeming to detect the discomfort in my voice as he frowned. “Milly?”
“I’m dressed all wrong,” I blurted, and his eyebrows jumped before his expression gentled. His attention went around the room, taking in the other partygoers for the first time. When he looked back to me, his face was dead serious. “Are you comfortable in what you’re wearing?”
“Well, physically, yes, but—”
“Would you be comfortable wearing something more revealing?” he went on.
“No, but at least I’d fit in better.”
“You don’t need to fit in. Just be yourself. That’s the girl I want to spend time with. And besides,” he paused, his gaze running over me intently as though momentarily distracted. Heat rose to the surface of my skin everywhere his eyes touched. He bent close, his breath whispering over the shell of my ear. “You look beautiful. You’re the prettiest girl in the whole party,” he spoke low, and I swear my brain short-circuited. He thought I was beautiful? Was this a dream? It had to be.
“That’s not true,” I breathed, pulse pounding.
He caught my gaze with purpose and stroked a hand down my arm, still with that distracted look on his face like he couldn’t stop staring at me. “Yes, it is.”
My breathing grew choppy, and I felt like I was trapped in a bubble with Derek, unable to escape the intensity of his stare. The way he looked at me, I suddenly believed him. He made mefeelbeautiful.
“Thank you,” I whispered at last, and his expression heated, his eyes dropping to my lips. He gazed at my mouth for several prolonged seconds before turning away and dragging a hand over his jaw. “Feckin’ all-girls schools,” he rumbled unhappily.
“What?”
He turned back to me, wry humour marking his features. “If you hadn’t been cloistered away at St. Colmcille’s for the last five years, you’d know exactly how gorgeous you are. If you’d attended my school, you’d have been beating the lads off with a stick.”
I laughed nervously. “If you say so.”
“I do say so,” he stated firmly then exhaled heavily, glancing about. “Right, drinks. How about a rum and Coke?”
I was glad for the subject change, because honestly, I could’ve basked all night in him convincing me of my prettiness, but indulging one’s ego rarely ended well. I hadn’t tasted rum before, only the vodka that Tara sometimes snuck out of her parents’ liquor cabinet. We’d mix it with orange juice while watching whatever silly reality show we were addicted to. Currently, it wasBig Brother, thoughReal Housewiveswas a close second.
“Sounds good,” I said with a nod, and Derek took my hand, his warm palm sliding against my skin, strong fingers interlocking with mine as he led me over to the island. Every square inch was taken up by bottles of alcohol and mixers. I watched silently while Derek put together two rum and Cokes. He handed me mine, and I took a sip, glad it tasted mainly of cola with only a faint hint of rum.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “Thank you.”
“All right, let’s go and find out where the birthday boy is hiding.”
I let him lead me farther into the house, eventually arriving at some kind of lounge where the guest of honour, Aidan Finnegan, was hanging out listening to music. Derek’s brother, Tristan, was there, too, alongside his other friends Rhys and Theo, plus several girls from their school whose names I didn’t know. Aidan, who had a reputation as a bit of a ladies’ man, sat surrounded by most of them as they hung onto his every word. Tristan and Theo were flirting with two other girls, while Rhys, who struck me as the shyest of the group, sat by himself in an armchair nursing a beer. The song “MakeDamnSure” by one of Tara’s favourite bands, Taking Back Sunday, was playing on the speakers.
