“Not after what he did,” Felicia says.
Seren’s confused. “What did he do?”
The girls look at each other. Felicia shrugs anif you want.
“He drugged Felicia,” Tabby says eventually. Seren blinks. She looks at Caleb to see if he’s as shocked as she is, but it’s clear this isn’t news to him. “She didn’t sleep when she was a baby, so Dad drugged her every night and didn’t tell Mum, and now she’s found out and she’s gone batshit crazy.”
Seren shakes her head. “That’s insane.”
“Right?” Tabby says.
“I don’t believe it.”
Felicia stares at her. “Are you saying we’re lying?”
“No, but—”
“Wait.” Tabby pretends to gag. “This is because you’ve got the hots for him, isn’t it?”
“What?” Seren tries to force a laugh, but it sounds fake, even to her. “God, no. Look, I only came to give you Yasmin’s message. I don’t give a shit about any of this. I’ll give him the sandwich myself if you—”
“Er, I don’tthinkso.” Tabby stands up and extends a hand to pull a reluctant Felicia up too. “We’ll do it.”
The girls leave, and Seren wants to die. Everyone knows she’s dressed up for Rhys, and he hasn’t even noticed her andGod, why did she even come? She’s standing awkwardly in Clemmie’s house, and Caleb isn’t even looking at her, just pretending to watch something on his phone.
“So…” she says, hoping he’ll say something. He doesn’t. “Um. What you said earlier. When you…” Her face is on fire, and she finishes quickly. “Asking me out, I mean. Like, we could. You know, if you want to. Sometime.” It’s pathetic, she knows. Like a dog begging to be stroked.
Caleb stares at her. There’s the briefest flash of something soft before his face hardens. “What are you on about? I didn’t ask you out.” He gives a short laugh, then goes back to his phone.
Seren can’t get out of there fast enough. She’s breathing fast, close to tears, and suddenly aware of how drunk she already is. She stands in the dark, listening to the sounds of the party coming from the Charltons’ lodge. She could walk home now. She could have one of Mam’s hot chocolates and watch shit on TV till midnight.
She chews her lip miserably. There’s shouting coming from farther up the drive—Fuck off, you piece of shit—and a burst of laughter and noise as a door opens then closes. Seren pulls herself together and walks back to the party. She jumps as she passes Steffan Edwards, off his face and muttering to himself in the shadows. Everyone’s drunk now, the party full of sweaty, swaying bodies, pressed tight and shouting above the music. Seren watches from the sidelines, steeling herself.
Mia’s abandoned her trays and is talking to Bobby Stafford; she breaks off when she sees Seren. “You all right, chick?” She looks down, checking to see what Seren’s drinking, and Seren’s sick of being treated like a kid, so she takes the half-drunk champagne from Mia’s hand and knocks it back.
“Cheers,” she says, handing it back.
“Is Huw taking you home later, love?” Mia’s face is full of concern.
“I’m paying you to waitress, not socialize.” Jonty pushes into their space.
“Technically, you’re paying me to hand canapés around,” Mia says. “And they’re all gone, so…” She turns back to Seren. “Don’t walk home on your own, will you? I know you girls think you can handle anything, but…” She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t need to; Seren’s heard it all before.Don’t walk home on your own, stick to main roads, don’t wear short skirts…Old people—Mia, Ffion, Mam—don’t get that things are different now. They’ve spent their whole lives covering up and changing their routes, but women are reclaiming the streets. Wearing what they want, doing what they please.
Seren pulls herself tall. The drink is blurring her edges; she walks away from Mia with a careful steadiness, the movement feeling as though it belongs to someone else. Rhys is in the kitchen. He’s eating a sandwich and talking to Jonty, and Seren hovers, wanting Rhys on his own before she loses her nerve. Jonty leans close to say something over the music, then claps Rhys on the back before walking away.
Now.
Seren’s heart races. Rhys is walking through the party now. In a minute, she’ll lose him to someone else, and then it might be ages till he’s on his own again.
“Hey.” She goes for soft and casual. Still sexy, she hopes, although her makeup’s rubbed off, and the heat of the room has flattened her hair. She pushes her lips into a pout and looks up at him from beneath her lashes.
Rhys stops. He stares at her, but it’s not the way she imagined him looking. He’s frowning, his eyes taking in her dress, her boots, her makeup, his mouth turning down in what looks like disgust. He finds her revolting. She teeters on the edge of tears, drunk and emotional.
Rhys pushes past her and goes in search of someone different, someone less repulsive. Tears roll down Seren’s cheeks.
Wear the dress, he said. And she did, but now…
Seren takes a deep breath and scrubs angrily at her face. She will not cry over a man, will not let him make her feel so humiliated, so worthless. Anger starts to simmer inside her, and it hurts less than the alternative, so she lets it swell until it’s boiling. She stares after Rhys as he leaves the party. Bastard, she thinks. It makes her feel better, so she says it out loud. “Bastard, bastard, bastard.” She stands tall. Rhys Lloyd doesn’t deserve her.