BOYTOY

~ Chapter 9 ~

On Tuesday I was given an invitation to a birthday party. Considering the invitation was written on a torn-off piece of a cereal box, covered in pink and silver glitter, and my name was spelt 'browninn', I didn't hold it in very high regard. But little Opal, with her wide solemn blue eyes, stood in front of me with her arms clenched at her sides, biting her lower lip. "Wow," I breathed, widening my eyes. "It's beautiful! Thank you, Opal!"

"Are you going to come?" asked Opal, nibbling her lip with the barely restrained eagerness of a five year old.

"Of course I'll come," I promised, inwardly wincing. There was neater, printed writing at the bottom of the card. Squinting, I moved it closer to my face, smiling slowly as I read it:

Hey, sorry about this. I tried to get her to drop
it but the kid wouldn't stop. You really don't
have to come if you don't want to.
- Cobe

To expel the bubble of sudden excitement inside me, I spontaneously reached out and ruffled the top of Opal's head. She gave a little girly scream and ran away. And just because I was in a good mood, I tucked the invitation into my jean pocket and gave a war-cry as I started after her.

Who knew that party invites could put me in such a happy mood?

I was not in such a good mood when I got home that night. With sore knees from where I'd tripped over a stray chair and sore arms from my attempt at scrubbing off the texta-pen drawings from the little kids that they'd drawn all over my skin. My hair was falling into my face and not only did I look pale, I felt pale, and that was saying something. I wanted nothing more than to get into my soft, flannel pyjamas and climb on the couch to watch a Chick Flick. So that's just what I did.

I had Pride and Prejudice in hand as I walked into the lounge room, along with a bowl of popcorn and a can of Coke. Barefooted, I pressed my feet extra hard into the carpet, enjoying the way it felt against the soft skin between my toes. I went to the television and fiddled with the DVD player, setting it just right. As I turned, I got a strange reflecting in the screen—it looked like someone was sitting on the couch—and when I turned I almost yelled out.

Emery was draped in the armchair, legs tucked under him and one of my music magazines drawn up to his chin. At my started gasp, he looked over at me. His smile was lopsided. "Hey," he greeted casually.

"I swear you're here more than me," I said, breathless from my shock.

His slow shrug was my answer. "Amber told me to come over. She's not here but your mum said I could wait."

"Oh." I wiggled my toes experimentally. I had really wanted to watch a movie and just relax, but I couldn't if Emery was here. I was trying to keep my promise to Amber, even if it was totally bizarre. But she was my sister and I knew I had to do what was right. Sighing, I turned on my heel. "I'll leave you then."

My finger was hovering over the 'off' button when he interrupted with: "Stay. I was just reading. You can watch the TV if you want."

"No, it's OK." I looked over my shoulder at him, forcing a smile. "I don't want to watch it anymore."

"Are you sure?" Emery's eyes crinkled with his grin. "You sure look like you still want to watch it. Come on, you won't bother me, and I'm pretty sure I won't bother you. Just sit down." He was giving a pretty damn good argument. I chewed my bottom lip, staring at the television screen. I could see Emery in the reflection, his long legs tucked under him and black beanie pulled low on his head. I traced the casual drape of his shoulders and the one arm that was propped up behind him on the chair. He shifted and his hand waved. "I can see you watching me." His voice was laughing. "And I know you want to stay."