Taste

After throwing my hair into a side fishtail, I stepped back to give myself a brief once-over.

I didn't own what people would class as "party clothes", so I just threw on the nicest thing in my wardrobe that wasn't too formal. In fact, I even dared to say that I looked good.

Pink wasn't normally my colour, but the baby shade jumper brought out the hazel in my eyes. It was comfortable and, while it may be risqué, I decided not to complete it with a lower half. Instead, because the jumper was so big, I just flung on a pair of wedge sandals that I usually saved for summer and, viola! I was ready.

Make-up wasn't a biggie for me either, a light powder and brown eye-liner, I looked nice without being over the top. After a full minute of consideration, I finished it off with a coat of cinnamon flavored lipgloss.

Which looked stupid... I told myself. It would give out the wrong idea, wouldn't it?

Fuck me, I was useless.

Ugh, why didn't I Facebook Matt earlier and say I couldn't make it? Tell him I had an incurable disease that had me stuck in bed for the next twelve hours or so?

I couldn't go. Attending would make people assume I was into dancing and drinking with them, getting to know their personalities and habits, and even encourage them to speak to me at school on Monday.

I'd much rather spend the evening alone with a vampire.

This was so messed up.

"Knock, knock," Tam's voice rang out pleasantly as she poked her head through the door. Her eyes widened as she took in my outfit. "Really going to show everybody up, my badass empress?"

"Nah, just kill 'em."

Strutting in fully, I saw that she was wearing a thin purple silk camisole. With eyes darker than a solar eclipse, I wanted to reach out and touch them.

She only wore her best lingerie when it was a prestigious client. As far as I knew, she only had two of them. Darren and some other mysterious loaded guy.

Our matching eyes locked, as she twirled my hair between her fingers.

"Well, I just hope that you're going to be safe. Drugs, drink and boys – and girls. Since you're so private about–"

"Get out." I stuck out my tongue. I wasn't talking about this with her. If there was anyone I didn't need to hear it from, it was Tam.

She brightened. "You should get going. Who's picking you up?"

I footered with the end of my fishtail. It took me ages to get this thing right, so I shouldn't have been playing with it. I'd only get myself in a strop.

For some reason, telling my sister about the boy who invited me to this party seemed too intimate. Which, was weird, considering how often I saw her birthday suit.

"Matt Simmons." Meeting her gaze again, I was surprised to see her expression hadn't faltered. "He's been rather friendly lately."

But she just winked.

"Well, maybe he's finally realised what a hot piece of ass you are."

I'm being serious, if I was capable of blushing, my face would be on fire. I felt warm, so perhaps that was the closest I would get to it.

I'd never really been into dating, or having a buttload of crushes, but the thought of someone as highly desired and appreciated as Matt – it would make any girl with common sense fall to her knees.

I was just about to make a remark when we both turned towards the window, where a loud horn blared. It could only mean one thing.

Tam gave me a kiss on the cheek before she pushed me out of my own room. And so, I was out the door and into the twilight afternoon, staring right at Matt's blue Ford Corsa.

The inclination of his head made me dive headfirst, the vehicle giving a slight bounce under me. Drawing my attention to him, I wasn't surprised by his wear.

The soft caramel of his shirt went nicely with his black jeans, looking like it had been ironed a million times till there were no visible creases. On his left wrist, he'd fastened on a shiny gold watch. With the soft combing of his hair, he looked magnificent.

"Wow, Emmy..." When I just blinked, he faced forwards again. "You look nice. Ready to go?"

Unable to form any sense of words, I just nodded and he propelled off. He was a careful driver, turning on indicators yards away from a corner or lane shift.

I was safe.

*

The party was in full swing by the time we got there. And, I must say, it didn't disappoint.

Holly lived in a mansion that could also be regarded as an estate, with a long circular drive and hedges shaped into animals on the way up. We could even hear and feel the bass of the music before we made it halfway up the path.

Matt parked in a space he called private, but I knew it was because he and Holly were almost inseparable.

Funny how the person I'm hanging out with tonight is friends with someone who just recently decided to hate my guts.

The "house" was even bigger on the inside, with white and silver decorations and splashes of colours only here and there from the people it contained. This wasn't like any other house I'd been in; there were no photos on display or even anything that made it look homey – it was just another lot.

While Taylor Swift sung about how she was no longer a teenager, Matt grabbed my hand and led me through the crowd.

Obviously, the focus should've been on how all of these bodies were making me feel claustrophobic and hot... but I simply couldn't when all I could think about was how tough his palm was. The sign of a hard worker; someone who pulled their weight, and often.

We emerged into the kitchen, greeted with the pleasant sight of someone from my Maths class upheaving their toxins.

Standing in front of me, Matt leaned in close. Mouth most likely tickled by my loose baby hair.

"Do you want a drink?"

I shook my head. "Just a Coke."

Instead of probing me like most would, he just nodded and turned around. Quickly pouring me a cup, he fixed himself a pineapple cocktail. It looked innocent enough.

He winked, which, in turn, made me involuntarily lick my bottom lip.

"Gotta love a fresh cocktail."

Shooting myself in the foot even before the night began, I asked, "Where's Holly?"

I didn't know what I expected. A shrug, a feign of interest, or even another grab of my hand all seemed like the most plausible answers. Holly was his best friend, after all, he'd want to spend some time with her tonight. Much to my idiotic chagrin.

I'd barely known Matt for a few hours, overall, why in the holy hell was I upset over him having other people in his life?

"She text saying she'd get us later. Too busy mingling and all." Tutting loudly, he beamed when I unintentionally laughed.

Somehow finding a spot to sit together, it was awkward for the first few moments, until Matt began talking about school. We learned that we both had a similar interest in English and we worked from there. Ranging from upcoming exams and what we wanted to do with our passing grades.

He apparently had always wanted to be an engineer, there had always been something about using his hands that he found rewarding. His mum didn't much care for it, though; she wanted him to peruse business.

But I agreed like I understood when, really, I'd have given anything for my father to at least acknowledge my aspirations.

My smile slipped a little as I caught onto the wrinkle of his shirt at the back, forming a thin barrier between his inked skin and myself.

Really? Matt had tattoos?

“So, Golden Boy, I see you have something on your back. What is it of?”

He smiled softly, showing me he in no way thought I was being too forthright. All I had to say to that was thank goodness. I didn’t know if I could take him being angry.

Prying the material away from his shoulder, he exposed to me the engraving on his flesh.

And I couldn’t help myself – my fingers were outstretched already, tracing the shape before I even touched base. His skin was silky, the faint hairs on his back providing a useless shield. My nails grazed him, but if he noticed, he didn’t let on.

The drawing was a simple piece. Three tally’s, the number six and then a series of letters, MMXVIII, all lying on top of each other. The writing wasn’t handled with care and looked sloppy, like a child’s.

But, at the same time, that seemed like the intention.

And, like a bucket of water, the meaning behind his art came washing down on me.

"Fourth of June, two thousand and eighteen, that's the week beginning you took off school." When he caught my eye, I think I saw a glint in there, but I ignored it. "Something really did happen to you, didn't it?"

Shrugging the shirt back into place, he took a tentative drink of his alcohol.

"Yeah..."

Shaping my mouth to say something, I was conveniently interrupted by Holly strutting our way. She jumped to Matt's side and hastily grabbed the cup from him, taking a rather large swig.

He was laughing, which meant the serious matter was now behind us, never to be touched upon again.

"I swear I don't know why I throw these things. I just caught Gary Parnell trying on my mum's suits."

The white guard now off her nose, I could still make out the bruising around the bridge, even underneath the make-up. Which there wasn't a lot of... bitch.

She cocked her head at me, eyes narrowing a little.

Okay, I guess I deserved that.

"Hey, Emmy. I didn't recognise you without blood in my eyes." She jabbed, I groaned, but then she cackled. "I'm joking, babes! I hope you're having fun, I never see you at these."

"Um, yeah. Matt invited me."

He smiled at me, then her. I don't know why my mouth twitched.

"She didn't have much choice, if we're going to be friends."

Our eyes connected again. His smiling and happy, a gleam in their corners ready to burst out and blind me. I didn't know why he looked at me like that.

Friends. Is that what we were? Would we share bedtime stories and talk on the phone until one of us crashed at night? Would he be there when I needed him?

Friends.

Not only did the name sound foreign, but I suddenly knew why I was so disappointed.

Because, when it came to guys like Matt, I didn't want to be just friends.