Page 23 of The Absence of You
The good times had been few and far between the last few years, and we’d never really done the typical mum and daughter thing. I take another long look at the two of us. We make a pretty striking couple dressed in completely opposite colours. Different but complementary.
“Okay, I concede, we look good.” I smile. “But what exactly are we dressed up as?”
“Duh, we’re good and evil. Obviously.” Callie grins. “I agreed to this party, but there’s no way I’m going in full fancy dress. If the party sucks, we can blow it off and go into town, and we won’t even need to change.”
That seems like a fair compromise, so we spend the next couple of hours finishing getting ready, which pretty much consists of Callie doing our hair and make-up and me cooing over the contents of her make-up bag. I’m not used to wearing this much make-up, and I have a feeling Callie doesn’t do this very often either. However, I enjoy every second of it, but even more than that, I enjoy the friendship that’s developing between us.
“Are you absolutely sure it’s okay for me to wear your mum’s boots, Cal? I would feel awful if anything happened to them,” I ask Callie again, as she insists I try them. I slip on the beautiful pair of white leather knee-high boots she’d just handed to me. They look brand new.
“Seriously, don’t worry about it. They don’t have any sentimental value. She had wardrobes full of unworn clothes. I doubt she even knew she owned them.” Callie reassures me as she fastens the strap on her own pair of black wedges. “My dad spent a lot of time abroad working, and he’d ship her gifts like clothes and jewellery, over guilt for being away so much, I guess. After she passed, he told me to keep what I wanted and get rid of the rest, but I never got around to sorting through it. It’s all still sitting there. I should probably do it one of these days.” I have questions, but something is holding me back from asking them. My gut is telling me to let Callie tell me more in her own time, so I change the subject.
“And you’re sure you want to drive? We could get an Uber so you can have a drink?”
“Nah, I’d rather have my car there so we can get away quickly once you realise this whole thing blows. I’m not a big drinker, anyway.”
We travel down to her underground garage in a small lift from the hallway. The lift and the garage are quite honestly as fancy as the rest of the house. Automatic lights come on as we enter the space and reveal no less than six cars parked up, with space for more. Callie walks ahead and unlocks a dark coloured Range Rover that’s parked next to a red convertible Tesla. I’m not into cars but even I can appreciate that one. That thing is seriously badass. Both cars have personalised number plates with Callie’s initials.
“Are these both yours?” She tells me they are and that the red one was a gift from her grandparents for her recent 18th but that her dad prefers she drives the Range Rover. She shuts the conversation down pretty damn quick, so I don’t press her on the reason why.
Chapter Twenty-One
DAHLIA
Twenty minutes later we pull off the main road into a dense wooded area, and a few minutes after, the Sat Nav tells us to take a left down a long winding road. We’ve barely passed any buildings other than the odd wooden cabin for a few miles now, and just as I’m wondering if we’ve taken a wrong turn, I see a row of parked cars. Callie pulls in behind them. We’ve obviously found the right place.
We get out of the car and walk down a long path, lit only by pretty fairy lights, following the sound of loud music thumping from the cabin that sits at the end of it. I mean, if that’s what you are really going to call it. Cabin is a stretch. Yes, it appears to be made of wood, but the two-storey lodge is huge, with a balcony that wraps right around the property.
It’s a warm evening and people are outdoors laughing and having a drink. As we walk towards the party, it takes roughly thirty seconds for my brain to register that no one else is dressed in costumes.
The guys outside are dressed casually in jeans and hoodies mostly, and the majority of the girls are wearing dresses. They certainly aren’t fancy dress costumes. That’s why Meghan invited me. She was trying to embarrass me in front of everyone. Fuck, Callie was right about them. I owe her an apology for being so naïve. As I’m about to grab Callie’s arm and drag her back to her car, the front door of the lodge swings open and Charlotte and Meghan appear at the top of the veranda.
“Glad you could come, girls. Nice costumes.” They falter slightly, disappointment showing on their faces. Suddenly, I am extremely grateful to Callie for insisting we wear these outfits rather than full on costumes because this could have been so much worse. Still, there is no way I’m hanging around now that I know the real reason we were invited.
“That bitch,” I hiss under my breath. “Come on, let’s go.” But instead of retreating, Callie links my arm and stands firm.
“Fuck that, and fuck her. That’s exactly what she wants you to do. Come on, we’re getting a drink. Slap a smile on your face.” I already know Callie isn’t the type to take shit lying down, but I’m impressed.
Straightening my back, we confidently stride up the steps and past a shocked-looking Meghan and Charlotte. They’d clearly been expecting to embarrass us and for us to walk away. As we stroll past them, I notice for the first time that Grayson and Asher are standing on the veranda, leaning against the wall. As we pass, Asher lets out a low whistle and follows it up by shouting after us.
“Looking smokin’, ladies!” Callie flips him the middle finger without even breaking her stride.
“Shit, you showed them.” Adrenaline buzzes through my veins, while I watch Callie mix me a drink from a few different bottles that are out in the fancy ass kitchen we are standing in. She helps herself to some ice from the freezer, tosses in a couple of the cubes and a straw and thrusts the drink at me. She grabs herself a bottle of water from a deep bucket in the corner.
“I knew they had something up their sleeve. I’ve never known them to be nice to a new girl ever. Especially one as beautiful as you. They are jealous cows. Well, it’s backfired now. You look hot as fuck.” I take a swig of my drink and raise my eyebrow as the sweet flavours hit my tongue. It’s lovely. The alcohol warms my stomach instantly.
“We look hot as fuck, you mean! Wow, this is yummy,” I exclaim, drawing almost half the drink up through the straw in one go. “Where did you learn to mix drinks like this?”
“Woah, slow down. It might taste like juice, but it packs a punch,” she warns me.
“Seriously, it’s delicious. You have a lot of hidden talents.” Callie’s face pales as Asher and Grayson walk into the kitchen, followed by a couple of guys I vaguely recognise from school.
“Hey, Callie. You’re not usually at these parties,” drawls the taller of the two guys that have approached us. He’s good looking in an obvious way, and he has a friendly smile, but he’s leering down Callie’s top and he’s clearly had a few drinks before we arrived. He turns to me with interest. “Are you going to introduce us to your friend?”
“Dahlia, this is James, and this is Maxwell.” She gestures towards the other guy. Maxwell doesn’t seem as inebriated as his friend, and he’s cute. Callie continues to ignore Asher and Grayson. Asher scowls at her before leaning in and taking my hand. He plants a light kiss on the back of it before letting it go.
“It appears Miss Messina has forgotten her manners. I’m Asher. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Like Grayson, Asher is stupidly good looking. He’s as tall as Grayson and just as well built. Tonight he’s dressed smartly in dark navy jeans and a jumper, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him without his glasses. Despite his blonde hair and sunny looks, his eyes hold something behind them, a darkness I can’t put my finger on. He turns to Grayson.
“Grayson, have you met the lovely Dahlia?” Grayson glares at me coldly.
