No Time Like Now (Lesbian)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

There's no reason for the dress to be 'sophisticated', even when it's for a 'sophisticated' party. The brown material's very soft and I already spent fifteen minutes running my hands down the skirt of it. Self-control isn't in my vocab.

Or at least, I'm ignoring its existence. Like I'm ignoring Mom's stare.

"Niamh. Stop that."

"Stop bringing me to events, and I'll consider."

She grabs one of my hands, keeping it away from the dress like I'm a child. I eventually pull it back.

"Know what, I'm gonna walk around."

A woman Mom's age comes up to her. She shoos me away, getting into a conversation.

The banners hang from the top of the walls, announcing the success of a company Dad supported in getting it off the ground. His former coworker had this idea and started planning the business since they were working together. Inviting all of us to the success party was the coworker's way of thanking Dad for not telling the boss, since business-planning on another business's property is against policy.

I guess telling the boss would have interfered with the company's food budget because, damn, they went all out on the countless of trays servers are holding around the room. The only tray I have my focus on has the champagne flutes; my throat's dry and no one's serving any other drink.

While the server answers someone's question about the company, I take a glass.

My hand keeps it close to me as I walk around people. Countless times I dodge several women spinning her dress around as she switches conversations. Instead of drops of champagne spilling on her, the drops land on me.

As soon as I finish the glass, I search for napkins. There's gotta be some, right? I'm not the only one who makes messes.

A pile of napkins are placed next to plates on a table. I grab a few and dash to the restrooms, where the lights are brighter.

Mom's still talking to the same woman when I come back feeling cleaner. I wasn't gonna bother her, but I see the way she meets my eye and exhales that I'm clearly in her way. Somehow.

"If you'll excuse me for one moment," she tells the woman in a hushed tone. "Niamh, dear? Why don't you go and find someone you can talk to? There's bound to be another guest still in school."

Now that I think about it, I've never seen someone my age or younger. Saw a lot of parent figures, though.

"I'm the youngest here. And the only one this young. Everyone else is twenty-five and older."

Putting her hands on my shoulders, she turns me back and pushes me forward. "I don't want to hear any excuses," Mom dismisses with a cheery laugh I wasn't expecting. Probably as an act for the woman. "Go!"

In other news, Mom's not listening again.

For the second time, I wander around the room. Arms are crossed as I pass Mr. Ashby, who's in the middle of a story to three listeners. Just three more hours, and I can go back home and hole up in my room.

I'm close to the restrooms again when my left hand buzzes. In the bathroom I go. Ikra might have sent pics of some bottles she bought the other day, and I can't risk someone snooping over my shoulder.

One woman's washing her hands. All the stalls are occupied. My back's pressed against the wall. Phone is pulled out from the top of the dress.

Have any plans tonight?

Aw, Aspen's my hero. I gotta tell her that.

Sort of. At a party my parents dragged me to. Wanna leave so bad.