25 | London Bridge is Falling Down

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To say I was peeved with Casper for the remainder of the night would've been an understatement

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To say I was peeved with Casper for the remainder of the night would've been an understatement. The last thing I wanted to do was create any drama at Dharsheni and Isabella's party, so I kept a lid on my frustration and played happy families. Casper was so perfect in so many ways, but sometimes he'd share opinions that were plain ugly.

Maybe my judgement was clouded; I'd given up pretending not to have a soft spot for Finn, romantic or otherwise, so maybe that made Casper's comments seem far worse than they were. As I broke away from the increasingly loud partygoers to get some peace and quiet in the ladies' room, I convinced myself of this theory. Besides, despite Casper's zero threat claim, he must have at least been a little jealous. He likely said what he said because of that, right?

I picked and prodded at my appearance in the ladies' room mirror after washing my hands, which led to a lot of grumbling under my breath. My striking red lipstick had bled and turned a sad pink colour, my usually big, round eyes had drooped as a result of spending the previous night panic cooking for the engagement party, and my chestnut brown hair had fallen flat. I'd tried to recreate whatever the hell Finn had done to it the night of my Halloween party, but I'd clearly failed.

I couldn't even re-apply my lipstick because I'd left it at my bloody apartment by mistake. Ugh.

As I left the ladies' bathroom, my inner turmoil wasn't enough of a distraction to miss Finn and Cleo tucked away into the narrow hallway's small corner. Despite the low lighting and bass thumping from the adjacent room, they were without a shadow of a doubt making out.

My stomach collapsed into a scrunched up ball and started rolling around my insides, and I was sure—so sure my heart stopped. Before I could even contemplate slipping away unnoticed, Cleo pulled away from Finn at the sound of the ladies' room door swishing closed, and caught my eye.

'Rosie, hey!' she called.

While the lighting wasn't faint enough to delude myself into thinking the two of them were just, I don't know, checking each other's eyeballs for any fungal diseases, it was faint enough to hide Finn's reaction to the sight of me suddenly standing a metre away.

'Oh, this is Finn!' Cleo continued, which made him laugh, and was evidence enough that the situation didn't constrict his stomach like it did mine.

'I—Oh, I know—I mean, we've met,' I explained on his behalf.

Cleo grinned, and God, she was so pretty with her sleek red hair and accentuated cheekbones that even I nearly fell in love with her. Worse yet, it was an easy smile without a trace of malice, and despite my previous grumblings, reality was that she was probably one of the nicest people I'd met.

'He's Welsh,' she continued. 'Did you know that?'

'Is he?' I questioned, then shifted my attention to Finn. 'Huh, I always thought you were Scottish. Must be that English twang you have.'

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