Page 91 of Hexed Up

I want to die simultaneously of mortification and embarrassment, but I decide that would be the childish thing to do. I need to be a grown-up and handle this situation.

So I step forward, lifting both palms to show I’m coming in peace.

Tasha takes a pace backwards, as if she’s deduced that I am a witch and about to zap her or hex her or both. I open my mouth to reassure her of my peacemaking intentions, but before I do, Tiggie has stepped forward and snatched the giant candle from the chocolate monstrosity.

“We need the candle in Molly’s cake too,” she declares to everyone watching. “She made her boyfriend” – she jabs her finger in Horatio’s direction – “a cake. Where is it?”

“Stop ruining things!” Tasha screeches, darting forward herself and making to grab the giant candle from Tiggie’s hands. Tiggie refuses to let it go, and for a moment we’re all standing there watching as two women wrestle a giant candle backwards and forwards between the two of them.

“This is brilliant!” Damien squeals beside me, clapping his hands.

But it isn’t. I can see a steely expression creeping over Horatio’s face. His jaw hardens, his shoulders stiffen.

“Stop it, Tiggie,” I beg. “Just stop it. Let go of the silly candle.”

“But you made him a cake. He should be blowing out your candle.”

The comment has Damien giggling away, clearly thinking it’s some euphemism or other.

“Please, Tiggie. Just let it go.”

“Yes, you demented little fool, let it go!” Tasha insists.

“Fine!” my sister snaps, all of a sudden releasing her grip on the candle.

Unfortunately, this action sends Tasha flying backwards. Immediately, I can see what’s going to happen. I search desperately for a way to stop it happening. Magic? Spells? Anything?

But there’s nothing. Nothing at all.

The only thing I can do is a bit of self-sacrifice and so I fling myself forward between Tasha and the giant chocolate cake.

Unfortunately – and probably inevitably, if I’d actually thought this through – this doesn’t solve the problem. All that happens is Tasha tumbles back into me, I lose my balance, and both of us crash straight into the giant chocolate cake, the table collapsing beneath our weight, chocolate, icing, sponge, and cream flying up into the air and landing all over the both of us.

“This is the best night ever!” Damien shouts, fist-punching the air.

I can’t move, on account of the fact that Tasha has landed on top of me and is pinning me to the carnage on the ground. But I can see all the faces staring down at us. Damien is loving this. Tiggie, to give her credit, is looking pretty mortified. One of two people are looking disapprovingly at us. The others seem pretty amused; several have surreptitiously dug their phones out and are filming us.

I glance apprehensively towards Horatio, half expecting to find that he’s stormed out of the bar, never wanting to see me again. But no, he’s still there. To my surprise, he doesn’t look cross or outraged, embarrassed or mortified. All that tension in his face from a moment ago seems to have vanished, and now it’s clear he’s trying really hard not to laugh.

“Somebody help me!” Tasha screeches.

He holds out a hand to help her to her feet. She takes it, but as he pulls her up, her heel hits a particularly slippery bit of icing and she skids right back down onto her backside, more chocolate smearing across her pristine white dress.

“You idiot!” she snaps.

Several people step forward and help her up, leading her away to the bathroom as she curses and mutters and tantrums.

Thank goodness she isn’t a vampire, or a witch for that matter; I think she’d hex the hell out of me and my sister.

Horatio stands over me, hands on his hips, surveying all the carnage. Damien comes to stand beside him, a massive, amused grin stretching across his face. Tiggie’s there too, and Horatio’s friend Alex. They’re all staring down at me.

“Sorry,” I say.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Tiggie says. She turns to Horatio. “I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry?” Alex says. “Damien’s right. This is the most fun we’ve had at one of his birthday parties in years. That was seriously entertaining.”

“Plus, two beautiful women wrestling over a phallic-shaped object probably ticked the fantasy box of every straight male in this place. I wonder if we could get hold of a video,” Damien muses. “We could post it on the inter-web.”