New Year's Eve

1

New Year's Eve 2003

Age: 13

I trudged into the function room with my arms folded over my chest and a deep scowl on my face. Both of my parents walked at a brisk pace in front of me, with huge grins on their faces. If you hadn't already guessed, I did not want to be there.

The bright lights of the disco started flashing around the room as my father spotted some of his colleagues. He and my mother went off to greet them. I walked behind, with a stupid scowl on my miserable face.

"Brian! Fantastic to see you!" Dad's boss called, holding out his hand for him to shake.

"Likewise, Frank," Dad replied, shaking his hand furiously. "I wouldn't miss this for the world; you know I always come to this!"

My parents exchanged pleasantries with Frank and his wife for a little while. I did nothing but hide behind them, with a perpetual frown on my sullen face. Frank suddenly spotted me, and he grinned. He bent towards me and pinched my cheek. I had to resist the urge to bat his hands away. I was thirteen years old! He didn't need to treat me like a toddler. Though, upon reflection, I was definitely acting like one.

But I chose to ignore that fact.

"And how is my little Scarlett doing on this fine evening?" Frank asked, patronisation dripped from his voice.

"She's sulking because we didn't let her go to a party that her friend was hosting to celebrate the New Year," Dad told his boss. He earned a roll of the eyes from me. Did he really have to disclose my misfortune to his boss? "But I told her we were all coming to this party. We have been here every year as a family. I'm not about to spoil the tradition now."

Well, that was one of the reasons I was sulking, but not all of them. I was sulking because my parents dragged me there against my will. I knew the only reason Dad had come to his work's New Year's Eve party was so that he could suck up to his boss. It was the same thing every year, and it was becoming boring. Sure, I enjoyed the parties when I was seven, but now that I was a teenager, nothing like that appealed to me.

Frank nodded in understanding. "My son is the same. As soon as they hit thirteen, they think they're older than they are and become stroppy teenagers. I'm sure Robert's off in the corner somewhere, moaning about getting dragged here."

Parents didn't get it. Just because they wanted to schmooze and socialise, it didn't mean that they could subject us to it. I would rather sit at home and doodle in my sketchpad. I'd even prefer just texting my friends, wishing them a happy new year. Anything would be better than this.

Frank then scanned the room. He rolled his eyes when he found what he was looking for. Or who, rather.

"Robert, come over here!" Frank called. "Don't be rude! Come and meet our guests!"

I followed Frank's gaze and saw a boy around my age rolling his eyes. He slid off the chair and out of the velvet booth and walked towards us at an annoying snail's pace. If I acted like that, I saw the error of my ways. Frank placed his hands on his son's shoulders and stood him in front of us.

"This is Brian and his wife, Julie." Frank introduced. Robert gave them a mere nod before looking back down at the floor. "And this is their daughter, Scarlett. I'm sure you two have met before, but you might not remember. You were both quite young."

"Robert, darling." Frank's wife addressed her son in a small and quiet tone. "Why don't you keep Scarlett company? There's not many people around your age here."

"Do I have to?" Robert muttered. "Can't I stay on my phone or something?"

"Yes, you have to. Now go on." Robert's mum ordered.