"The roses are dead,
The violets are too,
Don't mention romance,
You'll make me spew."
Francesca Burton knows all there is to know about love and romance. She knows that love is for the naïve and romance is for the delusional. Her parents taught her...
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Kissing Felix usually puts me in a good mood. Tonight, it's made me feel prickly and unsettled. Which is... unsettling.
Bickering is not what Felix is supposed to be. He's not meant to make you feel like maybe you've been insensitive or hurt his feelings in some way. Felix is not supposed to be feelings, full stop. Just lips and sleepy eyes and knowing hands. Did he not read the unwritten job description?
Flicking my hair out of my face and the uncomfortable, prickly feelings to the back of my mind, I wander back into the house with a slight stomp to my step. In the ten minutes I've been outside, the noise level in the living area has risen. This is thanks partly to the arrival of Robbo's annoying mates from footy, and partly to the fact that Cecily has started her set. She's in the corner of the room, surrounded by speakers, lights and expensive-looking equipment. Her mix is fast and bouncy with heavy base beats. The crowd is loving it.
Cec is clearly in her element, one hand holding large headphones to her left ear, the other flying across the buttons, knobs and levers in front of her. Her dark red hair has been straightened and pulled back from her face in a dramatic, high ponytail. Simple, black, high-waisted shorts and a cropped singlet contrast starkly with her pale skin and metallic eyeshadow. She looks uber cool and beautiful, something that has not gone unnoticed by Robbo's football cronies.
One of them leans across the trestle table, trying to catch Cec's attention. He's either a bit clumsy or a bit drunk (or both) and he knocks against the table, shaking Cec's setup. Anyone with eyes can see that Cec is doing her best to blank him. He, of course, fails to acknowledge the tense set of her shoulders or her refusal to make eye contact. Instead, he makes an ill-advised and clearly unwanted grab for her.
Oh goody. Someone I can take my grumpy out on.
"Excuse me buddy." I tap him on the shoulder. "You need to back up a bit."
"Sorry baby," he slurs at me, knocking the table again as he half turns towards me. "You'll have to wait your turn. I'm busy talking to the hot DJ right now. Don't worry, there's plenty of Stu to go around."
Great. He's one of those guys who refers to himself in the third person. No doubt he also refers to his penis as 'Little Stu'.
Kill me now.
"The hot DJ isn't interested and neither am I. Run along Stu." I wave my hands dismissively. Cec shoots me a grateful look.
Stu raises himself to his full height and looks at me properly for the first time. He's not much taller than me but his eyes are bloodshot and his pupils oddly dilated in a way that makes me think that alcohol isn't the only chemical substance he's consumed tonight. Challenging this guy head-on may not have been my smartest move ever.
"Bitch, stop sticking your nose in where it isn't wanted." He's right in my face now – close enough that I can smell the beer and garlic on his breath. Cec's music is loud but so is this guy, and people around us are starting to stare.
