Eight

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The drive to the Ball should have been a happy one. Six friends sharing a limo, a bottle of champagne flowing, and a night of partying just around the corner… that’s how it should have been. Instead it was like a hearse. Deathly quiet. I sat near the door, staring out the window while Reece was sat next to me. I could see from the reflection in the glass that he was watching me carefully, and he wore a permanent scowl that ruined his otherwise not so bad looking face.

Erin and Mark were deep in conversation, casting wayward glances in my direction every now and then before Erin sighed and shook her head. She was gesticulating wildly with her hands, getting worked up about something, and Mark had to calm her down a few times before she accidentally hit James with a stray fist. James, meanwhile, was too preoccupied gulping down alcohol with Sam to notice any of what was going on around him.

When we eventually reached Merton House, Sam and James rushed out of the limo first, yelling something about shots as they ran for the bar. Mark gentlemanly escorted Erin up the steps outside the venue, his hand pressed to the small of her back as she struggled with the hem of her dress.

“Cadence?” Reece’s voice sounded so far away even though I knew he was still sat next to me. He offered me his hand, which I took, and helped me from the limo. “Ready?”

The answer was a loud, resonating ‘NO’ but my head nodded and suddenly I was heading for the Ball. The Ball that the boy I was pathetically in love with was attending with another girl. Did that even make sense? How scrambled was my mind?

The seating chart for the sit down dinner had been drawn up weeks ago, and naturally all my friends were sat at one table. I double checked the chart five times just to make sure, but there my name was: Cadence Newham. Sat right between Reece Nicholls and Dylan Nicholls.

Wait… Ashley Pendleton? That bitch was going to be at my table?

“Here,” Erin’s voice pierced my thoughts. She nodded towards her hand where a shot of clear liquid swam in the glass tumbler. “Down it in one, then down this one,” she indicated to an identical shot in her other hand, “and then we keep going until the night is over. Alcohol numbs the pain.”

I gave her a sceptical look, but did as I was told. I took the first shot and winced at the burning sensation, but still went back for the second.

“Atta girl,” Erin smiled brightly, looping her arm through mine and leading me to the bar. “So, you saw the table plan, huh?”

“Why is she sitting with us?” I whisper shout as we near the round table decorated in blue and white. The theme for the Ball was Frozen Ice- a redundant term really, because ice is frozen water, meaning it couldn’t be frozen itself. But whatever. That was the theme. No doubt conjured up by the vapid airhead already sat at our table. I slap on the fake smile I do so well and greet the bitch as brightly as I can. “Hello, Ashley. Great to have you with us.”

The table goes quiet.

James and Sam look at me like I’m an alien imposter. They blink a few times just to make sure that what they’re seeing is real, but then they smile a little nervously and turn to look at Mark. He’s as confused as the other two, and passes the buck to Reece, who is still cleaning himself up after spitting his JD and coke over his black trousers. When he’s done wiping up as much of the liquid as possible, Reece quirks an eyebrow at me and tries not to laugh.

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