Page 30 of The Truth About Love

“Oh please.” She rolls her eyes. “There’s no way in hell I’d ever wear something like that.”

“Yeah, well same,” I say, taking the dress from her and hanging it back on the rail.

“It’s in your closet.” She gives me the side-eye, confused why I’d refuse to wear something that she assumes I picked out myself.

But I don’t really want to get into how my Mama buys me clothes because she thinks that materialistic purchases will make up for her continued absence in my life. Even if they were the style that I’d choose for myself, which they never are, designer clothing could never compensate for her being a shitty mother.

“Think I’ll just go casual,” I say. “I’d rather be comfortable and underdressed than feel self-conscious in a skimpy dress.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Marlowe finds a pair of dark skinny jeans and an old Rolling Stones t-shirt that I haven’t seen in years, and she knots it at her side to reveal her naval piercing.

She’s swapped her glasses out for contacts and with her winged eyeliner and raven-coloured hair, she looks edgy. Cool. Nothing like the meek and quiet girl she makes herself out to be at school.

She’ll turn heads tonight, that’s for sure.

And if she actually allows anyone to have a conversation with her, I think they’d be shocked by the fierce lioness she keeps hidden beneath her shy exterior and patent penny loafers.

I settle on a cream turtleneck sweater dress that I pair with my Doc Martins and a black blazer, hanging it off my shoulders the way I’ve seen influencers on Instagram do. I even take the time to curl my hair and clip some of it away from my face in tumbling waves.

“You look hot as sin, girl.” Marlowe winks. “If Auden doesn’t, I’ll take you in the bed of his truck tonight and show you a good time.”

Our friendship has been founded on our mutual hatred of small talk and neither one of us ever wants to fill the silences with sob stories or profound conversation. But occasionally there are moments of easy camaraderie between us and I’m surprised by the joy it brings me each and every time.

I snort, shoving her shoulder playfully. “Will you shut up?” I apply some light makeup and a subtle swipe of lipstick across my mouth. “You ready?” I ask and she nods, nerves replacing her previous playfulness.

Twenty minutes later, we’re following the smell of burning wood and ash as we trudge our way across the sand. The night sky is a deep indigo, lit up by the millions of stars that get harder to see the closer you get towards the city. Swirls of smoke billow upwards, reminding me of the log fire my grandparents had in their living room back when they were alive.

Around the bonfire, I can just about make out the shapes of a dozen or so people sitting in foldaway chairs. Music blares through wireless speakers and already drunk girls dance barefoot on the sand with their hands in the air. Elsewhere, people stand in small groups chatting, smoking and having a good time.

“This is way more than the small gathering Auden told me it would be,” I mumble loud enough for Marlowe to hear.

“Bitch, this isn’t a gathering. It’s a whole damn party.”

Her face is a picture of horror.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Anxiety twists in my gut, but I refuse to let it turn me around and make me go home. This is way, way,wayoutside my comfort zone, but I made a promise to Auden that I’d be here to celebrate his birthday with him. And though it’s looking like he purposely misled me in order to get me here, I feel too much for him to break the promise I made.

This isn’t Taylor Swift’s twenty-first birthday, and I’m not Jake Gyllenhaal.

“Come on,” I tug on Marlowe’s hand, “let’s do this.”

She stumbles along behind me, but I don’t loosen my grip. I have a feeling that the second I release her, she’ll be shooting right back across the sand to catch an Uber and get the fuck home.

But if I have to do this then you bet that she does too.

I find Auden reclined in one of the camping chairs around the fire, a bottle of beer suspended between his finger and thumb, his expression animated as he laughs with his friends from the football team.

When he spots me, his face lights up even more.

“Pretty girl!”

I’m suspicious by nature, but when Auden looks at me the way he is now, it’s only genuine happiness I see. There’s no malicious intent, no smuggery over tricking me into coming to the party tonight, no arrogance or signs of ill will. He’s just simply happy to see me.

It’s also clear that he’s already drunk.

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