The Island Curse

Unexpected Friend

The party was well on its way when we arrived. Music blared from within the stately home, its elegant arches and columns quite at odds with the thumping rap blasting and gyrating teens I spied through the windows. Tara bounded out of the vehicle before I managed to unbuckle, not that I was moving very quickly. Not a single part of me wanted to be here.

Two steps down the drive, and I nearly twisted my ankle in the damn heeled boots I'd been forced to wear. They were gorgeous, black suede that hugged my legs, all the way up to my thighs. A chunky, cowl necked sweater covered my top half, the end of the sweater just hanging over the top of the boots. I could only imagine my dad's face right now if he realized his only daughter was in public without pants.

My tongue scraped along the front of my teeth to make certain no lipstick had rubbed off, and my fingers kept rising up to touch my lips, the lipstick on them foreign and distracting.

"Stop," Tara said. "You're going to smudge it, and no one will see my masterpiece."

"At least have someone else smudge it if you're going to ruin such beautiful work."

"Hello Niko," I said, spying Tara's girlfriend on the porch. I supposed that was what they were. Tara informed me the other girl didn't care for labels, but she'd promised to devote herself to their relationship for the time being.

"You look gorgeous. Not that you don't usually, but damn."

I blushed and twisted one of the soft, auburn curls that fell over my shoulders. Whenever I tried to curl my hair, I ended up looking like Shirley Temple until I brushed it out, and then it became frizzy kinks that stuck out everywhere. Tara had managed to create the perfect movie star waves.

"You look amazing as well," I pointed out. And she did. I hadn't seen her out of her uniform before, but I'd expected her personal style to mirror how she wore those clothes. The tighter the better. But the girl was dressed in black skinny jeans, ripped on the knees, and a basic white t-shirt covered by a loose, red flannel. Brown ankle boots and a fedora topped off the look.

She laughed at my appraisal. "I wear my uniform like that to protest its message of conformity, but it's terribly uncomfortable."

"Maybe I should follow suit. I hate those things. At least let the girls wear pants."

"Right on," Niko said, bumping my fist with hers while slipping her arm around Tara's hips. "Ready?"

"I've been ready all week," Tara said. "Isla?"

"Lead the way."

What had been loud on the porch was deafening inside. People shouted over one another to be heard, their voices slurred by whatever concoctions they were sipping in their red cups. Al was lounging on a couch deep in conversation with a girl who looked a year or two older than him, but he waved at us when Tara called his name.

Sweat broke out on my forehead. The sweater was too much in here, in the thickest part of the party. Tara and Niko had vanished, and no one else looked familiar. I pushed through the crush of bodies, searching for an exit or entrance to a quieter room, but everywhere I looked it was packed. I backed into a corner and struggled to breath.

"It's okay. Stay calm. Stay calm." The room became warped and fuzzy. This was a mistake. I should've put my foot down, said no. A hand grabbed mine and whisked me through a door, a blast of fresh hair soothing the fever from my cheeks. "Thank you, Ki-Ewan!"

"Not who you expected?" He put his hands on his hips and smiled. His long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and despite Kieran and Tara's warnings, I felt myself relax. I'd normally find his type of flirting to be skeezy and off putting, but there was something comforting about him. I just couldn't put my finger on it.