In Memoriam ✓

Chapter One: Dancing With A Stranger

Mallory

"He can't take his eyes off you." Cleo shouted in my ear. Her lime-eyeshadow glittered in the hazy glow of the fairy-lights scattered around the living room; her neon lime dress was explosively pretty, extroverted and unabashed as Cleo herself.

I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't respond, because my attention was caught by the fairy-lights. They embellished this house's otherwise drab walls with beauty. The strings of lights were shaped to resemble flowers, and they glowed a million colours, iridescent to my eyes.

After a gruelling week of midterms, my friends Cleo, Kennedy and I soaked ourselves in this cacophony of music and conversation to let off steam. High school ran its course without interruptions; now we had six months until university, and my plans were perfectly set into place. I knew where I was going with my life; or so I thought.

Truthfully, I came to this party with my own intentions in mind. I was dating Brent, my school's infamous quarterback. He was obnoxious and a little mean sometimes, but he treated me like a queen when we met. Our relationship should have been idyllic, but we were currently standing on the verge of a total collapse.

I toyed with my earrings, my eyes dipping as I got lost in thought. Over the past few months, my boyfriend peeled away his sweet veneer to reveal a darker, controlling side to his personality. If Brent didn't know where I was at any hour of every day, he'd call my friends incessantly with demands of my location. Cleo blocked his number from her phone weeks ago. How much longer could I bear his torments?

Kennedy wandered over from the bar, balancing a couple of Palm Bays in her hands. Her purple sequin romper shimmered under the lights. She lined the cans up neatly at our table, passing them around with skill equivalent to a professional bartender.

"Who are we talking about?" Kennedy asked us, peering around Cleo's back. She sat at our booth, crossing her legs as her purple-eyeshadowed eyes scanned the room.

Cleo smiled giddily at Kennedy, tilting her head at me. "There's a guy looking at Mallory, and I'm pretty sure he's interested. He's exactly her type, as a bonus."

I let go of my earrings and glanced around the room out of vague curiosity.

"Where is he?" Kennedy asked, peeking over Cleo's shoulder. She didn't know who Cleo was talking about either, from the way Kennedy and I were both blankly appraising the people around us.

Cleo lowered her voice as she spoke, looking over her shoulder. "He's behind me, but don't be conspicuous. You need to be charming if he comes over, Mallory." she instructed me, like I was her primary occupation for the night.

I raised my eyebrows. "Thanks, Cleo, but I don't need instructions for flirting." I answered, taking a sip of my cherry drink. "I'm still taken. And isn't tonight our girls night?"

Cleo smiled. "Doesn't mean you can't have some fun while you're here."

I tipped my head up to stare at the ceiling, wondering when the alcohol would finally hit me. If I sounded bitchy, it was only because of my frayed temper after an hour-long argument over call with Brent.

I tapped my glass, staring at it with something of disappointment in my eyes. Why couldn't life give me a pass for once?

"Conspicuous." Kennedy repeated Cleo, rolling her eyes. Cleo and I stared at her in confusion. Kennedy braced her arm on the table, pointing out, "Did you forget that Mallory has a boyfriend?"

Cleo sighed, flicking her hair back. "Lighten up, Kenny. Just a bit of window shopping. What do you say, Mallory?" she asked, her brow creasing as she looked at me.