Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC

14: We Lit a Fire that's Nothing but Smoke and Hot Air

I don't know what kind of sex Venetia and Oliver had last night (a lie, I know exactly what kind of sex Venetia and Oliver had last night), but whatever he did has her scarfing down yogurt parfait like it's nothing. Which, for anyone else, would be completely normal, but for Venetia, is more than a little strange. In the year, roughly, that I've known her, I've never seen her do more than pick at her plate - and even then, she'll still disappear to the bathroom for fifteen minutes. No matter what I say, or do, or what I would cook for us in the dorms, it's entrenched in her. I'm just happy she eats when she's drunk.

Next to me, Farleigh flips his newspaper, a cigarette perched in his other hand, and a coffee still steaming next to his empty plate. I know he's not looking at it though, because he keeps looking at me, a very faint smile on his lips and a knowing look in his eyes every time Oliver and Venetia so much as look at each other. He's particularly smug this morning - I know he'll use this against Oliver somehow. I finish off my scrambled eggs, and begin to butter my toast.

Slowly, Oliver slides his croissant across the table, to Venetia. Venetia slowly picks it up, and in one bite, eats almost half of the croissant, never dropping his stare. It's almost worse than watching Oliver go down on her last night - at least then it was dark, at least then they weren't sitting at the table with us, with her parents. I busy myself with finishing off my glass of orange juice.

I know that she'll no doubt tell me all about her late night endeavors later. I still haven't made up my mind about whether or not to tell her about mine.

Felix's brow is furrowed as he joins the table, sulkily dropping into his seat and immediately slipping a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it. As always, Oliver immediately drops Venetia's attention in favor of turning towards Felix. "Morning." He says. "Sleep well?"

Felix rolls his eyes. "Nah, not really mate." He grumbles.

At the head of the table, James swallows a bite of his breakfast, and pats his napkin around his lips. "We're thirty for dinner tomorrow night. Stopford Sackville has cried off."

A round of groans go around the table - Felix, Farleigh and Venetia all sighing almost simultaneously.

Only Elspeth doesn't join in, but her tone still betrays her feelings. "Oh dear, that's a shame." She's not convincing at all.

"Who's coming to dinner again?" I ask. I'm sure, at some point, someone talked about it before, but I can't remember for the life of me. I'm a little embarrassed to ask, but not enough to keep me quiet. This isn't my house - I'm allowed to forget about social arrangements.

"The Henrys." Venetia says.

Farleigh laughs and gripes at the same time. "No, please!"

"Who are the Henrys?" Oliver asks, glancing at Felix.

Felix doesn't answer - Venetia does. "Dad's friends. They're all called Henry."

"Not all of them! Just most..." James protests.

Elspeth still sounds unconvinced about dinner, even as she's trying to convince the rest of the table, "It'll be fun!"

Venetia drops what remains of her croissant back onto her plate. "It'll be being molested by Henry." She shoots a look at James. "You know which one!"

Elspeth rolls her eyes. "I'll put you next to Oliver then! He can molest you instead."

I watch as Felix - already sulking - sinks lower into his seat, his brow tightening even further. He looks furious. I glance at Farleigh, to find him smirking around his cigarette. I expected the turnaround time between us accidentally witnessing Venetia's moonlight tryst and him tattling on Oliver to Felix to be longer, but I guess I underestimated Farleighs dislike of Oliver.

Elspeth reaches a hand across the table in Oliver's direction. "Oh Oliver, I was going to say, we should do something fun for your birthday. A proper party! No Henrys! Something actually fun." Oliver's face changes, and his eyes slip from Venetia to Elspeth. "What do you think, darling?"

James smiles. "If Oliver would like it then I think it's a splendid idea."

Farleigh scoffs, his eyes set on the newspaper in his lap. "I think Oliver looks like he'd rather throw himself out of a window." His eyes flick over to me, and he smiles.

Oliver's voice cracks when he speaks. "What kind of party?"

"I don't know, whatever you want." Elspeth says, flippant. "What do you think? About a hundred people?"

"A hundred?" Oliver looks to Felix for help, to no avail.

"Or two. It invariably ends up being two, doesn't it, with this sort of thing..." She pats the top of his hand, and smiles. "Invite whoever you want. All your friends."

Farleigh looks up from his newspaper to take a drag of his cigarette. "What friends?"

Oliver glances at Felix again. Felix is steadfast in pretending that Oliver isn't sitting next to him, his eyes fixed on the wall behind Farleigh's head.

James's face lights up. "Oh! Oh! How about fancy dress?"

Venetia rises from the table abruptly, and stalks away, headed towards the bathroom. My heart sinks. I guess Oliver Quick isn't good enough for her either. That makes two of us.

"I can wear my suit of armor, Elspeth!" James excitedly sets his napkin back down on the table.

"Good idea darling." Elspeth says.

Finished with my breakfast, I lean over to Farleigh. "Can I have-?" I don't even get the question fully out of my mouth before he's digging in his pocket, pulling out his box of cigarettes and offering it to me. I pluck one from the box, and he leans forward, pressing the end of his to the end of mine until it lights. "Thanks."

"We could have a theme!" Elspeth continues. "What about Midsummer Night's Dream?"

James smiles. "Lovely."

"Bring on the slutty fairies." Farleigh says, eyes flicking to me, grinning.

I return his smile, and puff on my cigarette.