38

Sienna felt a tingle of joy when she arrived at the party and Adrienne hugged her. Adrienne was the epitome of cool—badass and beautiful. She introduced a very subdued Scarlett and Adrian to her new friend, noticing how Adrian's eyes almost fell out of his head at the sight of her. She was probably his idea of the perfect woman.

They followed the elegant goth girl into the kitchen where the drinks were laid out.

"I don't want to drink alcohol," Adrian said. "Make me tea."

Without warning, Adrienne grabbed him by his arm, inspecting one before doing the same to the other.

"They don't seem broken to me," she declared. "Make your own tea."

"I wasn't asking you," he said, curling up his lip. He looked positively outraged—as if he might rip out her throat with his bare hands.

"You weren't asking anyone," Adrienne shot back. She grabbed a couple of beers in one hand and Sienna in the other, leading her into the living room while loudly asking Damien to have a word with his 'dickhead mate.'

Sienna felt guilty and worried as Damien took Adrian to one side but began to feel better as the warmth of beer spread from her belly, numbing her extremities.

Adrian didn't speak to her for the rest of the night. He went out of his way not to engage her as if to make a point of it. Punishing her for their refusal to accept his behaviour.

She still enjoyed the party. The group smoked more weed, drank beer, listened to music, and played card games she never knew existed. Weirdly, Scarlett won every single game, even the ones she claimed to have never played before. They joked she was some kind of card savant.

When they talked Damien into playing his guitar, he insisted on playing the song he'd downloaded for her, telling her she had to sing the lyrics.

"I can't sing," Sienna cried. Showcasing her awful singing in front of this lot would require substantially more beer.

"You have to," Damien insisted, grinning at her.

Butterflies took flight in her belly as she shook her head and made puppy dog eyes, trying to beg out of it.

"Hah." Adrian tutted. "So he can order her about and that's fine? Nice to see the double standards."

He'd been nit-picking at Adrienne all night, and Sienna could tell this was the last straw.

"You wanna know why?" she asked, getting up close in his face.

"Yeah," he said, pushing his face into hers.

"Because Damien is a God among men and you are a sad little boy with a God complex," she said.

Adrian made a scoffing sound and shook his head before looking her in the eyes. "It must suck so bad to be a fully grown woman in love with a highschooler."

"I'm like... three years older," she scoffed, shaking her head. "And I'm n-not... I'm not in love with him."

"Can you play Hailie Sellasse, up your ass?" Sienna shouted, just to break the weird tension.

"Rastafari," Damien said in a Jamaican accent and nodded, picking up his guitar. Plugged into the amp, it was loud, but the detached house wasn't close enough to any others cause a noise disturbance.

She sang along, remembering the simple lyrics with ease; it was a lot of f-words and bashing of religion. Repeating the words, 'Fuck religion,' she couldn't help but feel a little guilty since her Mum still took her to church one Sunday a month. She would help with a group called 'Messy Church,' where her little brother and neighbourhood kids made crafts and had lunch.

She claimed to hate it to all her friends, but secretly she loved it.

'Sorry Jesus,' she thought, hoping he would forgive her. She didn't listen to a lot of the 'God bod' stuff her Mum jabbered on about, but she knew Jesus was big on forgiveness.

When her song was done the others cheered and she sat, watching Damien do a guitar solo. There was something sexy about the way he played the guitar, resting it on his hip, and the way his fingers moved skilfully along the frets.

She realised she was sitting on the edge of her seat, smiling up at him like some crazed fangirl. Then she realised Adrian had noticed and tried to rein herself in a tad. As Adrian watched Damien then glanced back at her, he must have noticed their matching gloves because his eyes were beaming a hole into her wrist.

'It doesn't mean anything,' Sienna thought, yet as she looked down at the stripy little glove, she didn't want to take it off. For reasons she couldn't explain, it made her feel safe.