Breaking Her Rules

Chapter 1

I promised myself I wouldn't get too drunk tonight, but as I'm walking through the crowd in the yard, searching for Watson, I realise I might have already broken that promise.

I'm holding a beer in one hand and my phone in the other as I make my way across the grass, stepping gingerly in my high heels. It's been a hot day, and even now the evening air is stifling. I dodge through a group of Prisley girls and walk over pavers, through glass sliding doors and into the house. The downstairs room has a pool table and kitchenette with a bar, and polished wooden floors that are sticky with spilt alcohol. There's a dance song playing on the huge speaker system, and a mess of senior Hilverton College students crowd the room, drinking and dancing. I walk past a study, where Landor girls have pushed back books and documents on a dark wood desk to make way for their drinks and playing cards. I glance into a bathroom with a distinct smell of vomit. Watson must be upstairs or in the pool area and I'm just about to go back outside when I hear a girl's shriek followed by laughter. I turn a corner to find a bedroom door ajar.

I halt a few steps back from the door, dithering on the spot. A gold feather earring is lying on the floor, and I have a hazy recollection of seeing a blonde girl wearing those earrings, but in my drunken state I can't place the face. The gap through the door is wide enough for me to see Watson inside, making out with a girl.

My stomach lurches, and somewhat masochistically I stand there a moment longer, watching him kissing her. He runs his hand along her waist and through her blonde hair, and I recognise her as Taylor, Landor senior.

Finally I turn and stride out towards the kitchenette and bar, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger. I've almost finished my beer so I snatch a bottle of vodka from the bar and pour myself a strong vodka orange juice into a plastic cup.

Of course I can't really compare myself to Taylor. She's tall, with long straight blonde hair and boobs. She actually has boobs. I've always liked my looks, but I'm not Taylor. I like my long brown hair, even though I never style it. I like how people are always envious of my naturally dark olive skin, and the fact that I never gain weight. And I even like my broad shoulders and narrow hips. But then when I compare myself to Taylor, I start to find faults. I need to talk to Ainsley about this.

When I turn around, Lucas is sitting on the opposite bench, swinging his legs. I glare at him. He shoots me a smarmy grin and cocks one eyebrow under his shaggy blond hair. He's wearing a black t-shirt printed with a white outline of a hand with a severed ring finger. I recognise it as a Chet Faker shirt. One arm is tensed, holding the bench for support, and I admire the way the sleeve of his shirt is tight over his bicep.

'Maisy,' he says, tipping his drink towards me in a salute. 'I hear your dad's book is coming out this year.'

I narrow my eyes. 'So?'

Lucas shrugs. 'What? Come on, your dad was like a second father to me. It'll be fun reading a book about the band.' He slips off the bench and takes a step towards me. I am caught in the stare of his all-too-familiar sharp green eyes. 'You actually look good tonight, Maisy.'

'Don't call me Maisy. My name is Emily.'

'But I always call you Maisy,' he says. 'I like Maisy.'

I'm tired of it and I'm still reeling from seeing Watson in the back room. 'Oh fuck off,' I tell him, before turning around and storming off.

Julian, Harrison and Ainsley, my closest friends from the Cernette house, are upstairs on the back deck, sitting at a large wooden table. The boys are laughing at something, while Ainsley is hunched over her phone. When I collapse down beside her I see she's flicking through the selfies we took at Watson's house earlier tonight. I know she'll get frustrated with each photo and delete them all. Lately the only photos she uploads are photos of her breakfast: oats cooked in water with slices of neatly arranged fruit; rye toast with pure nut butter; vibrant green juices; ice water with sliced cucumber and lemon. She barely glances at me, even when I huff in exasperation.

Across the table, Julian is smoking a cigarette and tapping ash into a beer bottle. 'What's up, bro?' he says.

'I just ran into Lucas,' I say. 'Oh, and I just saw Watson making out with Taylor.'

'Taylor?' Julian says. He drops the butt of the cigarette into the bottle. The beds of his fingernails are blue and purple – remnants of paint.

Harrison lets out a low whistle.

'Right?' I say, looking at Harrison. He's a lanky dark skinned guy, sitting back in his chair, a long-fingered hand draped lazily around a can of rum and coke.

'This is absurd, isn't it?' I say. I look at Ainsley, who is biting her lip. 'What?'

Ainsley's eyes widen, and she drops her phone on the table. 'Oh, um, he went and saw a movie with her last week.'

'What?'

Ainsley swallows and brushes wispy blonde hair away from her face. 'They're kind of seeing each other.'

'Kind of? Why hasn't he told me?'

'Well maybe he was worried about how you'd react,' Harrison suggests, raising an eyebrow at me.

I stare blankly at him.

'Well you know,' he says, gesturing. 'You're not exactly pleased.'

'Why would Watson not tell me he's dating Taylor? I'm his best friend!'

Julian shrugs. 'Oi, I dunno man. Maybe he just wasn't sure where it's going.'

'But you knew,' I say, turning to Ainsley. 'Watson told you and not me.'

I see Julian and Harrison exchange a look.

'What?' I ask them.

'What's the real reason you're upset, bro?' Julian asks. He's turning the lighter between his fingers, and then presses the switch to ignite it, still watching me.

'We think you're jealous,' Harrison says smugly.

'What?' I say, appalled. 'Watson's my best friend.'

'But you have a thing for him,' Julian says, flicking the lighter on and off.

'I don't!' I cry.

Harrison laughs, grabbing the lighter off Julian and throwing it into the air, catching it victoriously. They're both looking at me knowingly.

'No, seriously,' I say. 'I don't like Taylor. She dated Duncan. She's from Landor house.'

'Taylor's nice,' Harrison says.

'You've got nothing to worry about, bro,' Julian says. 'Unless you are actually in love with him, in which case you probably want to swoop in there and make your feelings known before he gets too serious with her.'

'I don't like Watson,' I groan. 'Come on guys, you know me. Number one rule in my book – don't fall in love with your best friend.'

Harrison laughs, throwing the lighter into the air again. 'Because we all know how that ended last time.'