Feather

Fourteen {The Party, Pt. 2}

The drive was silent, and Peyton could feel how nervous Michael was, so she would nudge his cheek with her nose every once in a while. When they arrived, she heard him gasp at the house. It was easily the largest on the street but Peyton never cared for it, too much room for no reason in her opinion. They walked up the few steps to the front door, Michael always half a step behind.

"Name?" One of her parents security asks, looking down at his clipboard.

"Peyton Angelica Louise Lanson, and guest."

"We haven't got a guest written down for you, Miss. Lanson." He tells her.

"Then I suggest you take it up with my mother." She grabs Michael's hand to pull him inside but the security stops them. Peyton was about to say something when all of a sudden, a sweet voice came from behind the large man.

"Miss. Peyton?" A small, Brazilian lady said, looking past the man. She slapped his arm, shooing him away, "go do your job, do you not know who this is? Shoo," she smiled brightly back at Peyton, "can I still get a hug, or are you too big for that now?"

"Never, Rosa," she said hugging the lady tightly, "I'll always have a hug ready for you," she pulled away, motioning for Michael to come closer, "Rosa, this is my very good friend Michael. Michael, this is Rosa. She took care of me growing up."

"It's nice to meet you, Rosa." Michael said quietly.

"Oh, sweetheart, you don't have to be shy with me," she waved a hand in dismissal as she giggled before looking at Peyton, "ele é lindo, né cara?"

Peyton nodded, smiling at Michael fondly, "é, Rosa. Lindo de morrer."

"Ah, já vi o que se passa, né?" Rosa raised an eyebrow knowingly at her.

"Shh... ele ainda não sabe." Peyton giggled, making Rosa laugh.

"Okay, okay. Well, I shall be in the kitchen, I know I'll see you there later." She gave them both a smile, and walked back towards the kitchen, humming a tune that wasn't the atrocious bore that was playing through the house.

Peyton turned to Michael to ask if he was ready, only to see him standing there with his mouth open, "you speak another language?"

She giggled, hooking her arm with his as she pulled him into the house, "Rosa taught me Portuguese when I was younger, I spent a lot of time with her when I wasn't at school," she shrugged, looking around, and spotting someone sitting half way up the large staircase, "come on, this way."

"What did she say to you?"

"That you were beautiful." She smiled, and pulled him with her, grabbing a glass of champagne for each of them from a server, and giggling as they climbed the stairs.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been here almost two hours on my own." Calum told her.

"Sorry, babe," they gave each other a kiss on each cheek, "you know I like to be fashionably late," she sat next to him, motioning for Michael to sit between her legs, and he did, "Calum, this is Michael Clifford. Michael, this is the famous Calum Hood."

"Nice to finally put a face to a name." Calum grinned, holding out his hand.

"Likewise." Michael shook his hand, smiling.

"So..." Calum says, eyeing Peyton's outfit, "red shoes," and she nodded with a smug grin on her face, "you're determined to annoy the shit out of your mother aren't you? And red hair?"

"Freshly dyed this week." She smiled, twirling her curl between her fingers.

"I can tell this night is going to be very entertaining. Cheers," Calum raised his glass, they all knocked their flutes, and downed their drinks, "let's get this party started."