Beautiful Broken Things(Beautiful Broken Things #1)(51)

‘Run along, little boy,’ she said instead.

Dylan slid a cigarette between his lips, a smirk crooked behind it. ‘See you later then.’

After he’d gone, Suzanne’s tensed shoulders relaxed against mine. Leaning on me, she turned to Rosie. ‘Credit for that, please.’

Rosie grinned. ‘Well done, I’m so proud.’ She reached over and adjusted the strap of my top. ‘What did you think of him, Cads?’

‘Is there an acceptable answer to that?’ I asked.

‘Let’s not talk about him,’ Suzanne said. ‘Let’s just have fun.’

‘Yes,’ Rosie said emphatically. ‘The three of us getting drunk on a Saturday night. Yes. And you . . .’ She gestured her bottle towards Suzanne. ‘Are you going to disappear again?’

‘No!’ Suzanne said, looking hurt. ‘I’m here with you guys. I’ll stay with you. I promise.’

She didn’t.

To be fair, she lasted for over an hour, and by the time I turned and realized she’d disappeared I was having too much fun to really care. I was sitting around a ridiculously grand oak table with a plastic cup of beer in front of me, playing a complicated drinking game that involved numbers. Four rounds in and I still wasn’t certain of the rules. Levina’s boyfriend, Charlie, had taken charge, but most of the people I was playing with I didn’t actually know.

But that didn’t seem to matter, all of a sudden. We were just having fun.

‘Five!’ the girl next to me bellowed.

‘Six!’ I said.

‘Seven!’ Maya realized her mistake as soon as she spoke, but we all booed anyway. ‘Oh fuck. Shut up, OK.’ She took a swig of her drink. ‘ONE!’

We started around the table again, me trying to concentrate on the numbers people were saying over the fuzzy blur of the beer.

‘I’m going to get a drink,’ Rosie said into my ear. ‘Want anything?’

‘No, I’m good,’ I said, lifting my cup as proof. ‘NINE!’

Rosie rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. She put her hand on my shoulder to hoist herself out of her chair, squeezing affectionately.

I was so engrossed in the game that I almost didn’t notice her return, until I felt a prod on my shoulder and turned distractedly to see her standing there, holding a bottle of WKD. She gestured to me with her free hand. ‘You need to come and see this.’

I stood reluctantly and followed her through the living room. She stopped inside the patio doors and I looked out obediently. There were two figures kissing by the table outside. It took me a moment to realize it was Suzanne and Dylan.

Dylan was half sitting, half leaning against the table. Suzanne was standing between his partly open legs, her arms around his neck, his around her waist.

‘What the fuck,’ I said.

‘I know.’

‘Aren’t you going to say something?’ I asked. We were both whispering, even though it was unlikely they could hear us.

Rosie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Is that a serious question?’

‘Don’t you think we should?’

‘No. Not even slightly.’

‘Isn’t it our job as friends to stop her doing stupid things?’ I asked.

‘I’m sure she’d take that really well,’ Rosie said, sarcastic. She took a sip of the WKD, her face set, a little too calm.

‘Wouldn’t you want me to stop you doing something that stupid?’

‘I would never do anything that stupid,’ Rosie responded. ‘I have an ounce of sense. And self-respect.’

‘Oh, Roz, come on.’

Rosie put her two hands palm up in front of her chest, as if physically distancing herself. ‘Oh, you go ahead. Don’t let me stop you.’ She clearly didn’t expect me to take even a step in their direction.

I hesitated. As much as I wanted to help Suzanne and prove Rosie wrong in the process, I was still very much myself. I definitely hadn’t had enough alcohol to cancel out my life-learned aversion to conflict.

I was about to admit defeat and go back inside, leaving Suzanne to her own mistakes, when I saw Dylan move his hand away from her waist. He lifted his hand into the air above her head, making the OK sign with his finger and thumb. I heard a shout of laughter from the other end of the garden.

‘What a dick,’ Rosie muttered in disgust.

I stepped through the patio doors and walked over to them, my steps more decisive than I felt. I reached out and took a hold of Suzanne’s arm.

‘Suze,’ I said.

She broke away from Dylan, looking towards me with a dazed expression on her face. I tried to gauge how drunk she was, how culpable.

‘What?’ she asked. The confusion had vanished, leaving annoyance in its place.

‘What are you doing?’ I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ Dylan interjected.

‘This is Caddy,’ Suzanne said. She was looking at me with a less-than-friendly expression on her face, but still she said, ‘Don’t talk to her like that.’

I was still holding her arm and I squeezed it for emphasis. ‘Come on, Suze. Come and get a drink with us.’ I gestured to Rosie, who had come to stand behind me.

‘She’s got a drink,’ Dylan said. ‘And who are you?’