Yvonne said yes to the party.

I think it was mostly because she had a soft spot for Conor after our unexpected get together the other week. When he revealed his insecurities, she’d warmed to him in a maternal way.

She was completely oblivious to his crush.

Maybe she never had to know. After all, I was fairly certain Conor wouldn’t be brave enough to ever tell her. He’d soon find some other girl to fancy and forget all about my aunt.

I wore a forest-green skirt and a black lace top with some ballet flats for the night. Sam came over to get ready in my room, but he was distracted.

“Any more developments with Shane?”

Sam shook his head, though his expression was cagey. “He hasn’t come near me at all. I think the kiss freaked him out.”

“Well, maybe it’s for the best. Boys like him only cause trouble.”

“Yep. That’s why I’m keeping my distance,” Sam agreed, but I got a sense he only said it to keep me happy.

I exhaled and spritzed on some of the perfume Dylan gifted me. I breathed in, savouring the musky richness.

“Oooh, that looks fancy,” Sam commented as he plucked the bottle from me to read the label. He let out a low whistle. “Where’d you get the money for this?”

I snatched it back. “I didn’t. It was a gift from Dylan.”

“It must be serious if he’s buying you perfume.”

“Maybe.”

“Oh, quit pretending you’re not delighted.”

“I will when you quit pretending you’re not intrigued by Shane.”

Sam huffed and folded his arms. “Whatever.”

“You can deny it all you want, but I know you’re flattered by him kissing you.”

“Fine. We’re both a pair of smug Susans. Now come on, we need to get to The Morgan before the others arrive.”

I knew he was changing the subject, but I let him, because we really did need to leave if we didn’t want to be late. Yvonne met us at the door then escorted us to the roof herself.

“Okay, you have two hours, but I’ll be up periodically, so don’t think you can sneak any drinks. There are plenty non-alcoholic options,” she warned before heading downstairs.

I took a seat at the table and poured us each a Coke. “Looks like the only high we’ll be getting tonight is a sugar one,” I joked.

Sam shot me a look. “Eff that, I’m having a vodka.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’ll be you who has to face Yvonne’s wrath when she finds out.”

He grinned and screwed open a bottle to take a quick swig. “Sooo worth it.”

My phone pinged with a text from Dylan to say he and the others had arrived. My stomach tightened and excitement fizzled through me. I couldn’t wait to see him. When the three of them came through the door, Sam and I jumped up and shouted a chorus of, “SURPRISE!”

“Oh my God, so cool,” Conor exclaimed as he looked around.

“Do we have this whole place to ourselves?” Amy asked, camcorder going as she captured a three-sixty of the rooftop. For once, she actually seemed impressed.

I smiled wide. “Yep. For two whole hours. Grab yourselves a drink.”

Dylan’s eyes wandered appreciatively over my body as he approached then dipped down to press a kiss on my lips. He inhaled and whispered in my ear, “You’re wearing it.”

I nodded shyly. “Yep.”

“It suits you. You have good taste.”

I poked his shoulder. “You’re the one who picked it out.”

“Right, then I have good taste.” He smirked and rested his hand on the small of my back as we joined the others at the table. I enjoyed the warmth of his palm, and tried not to fixate on where I wanted the night to end. I had missed his touch, his taste.

“So, what have you three been up to this week?” Sam asked. “Any gossip?”

He eyed Dylan in particular, and I could’ve murdered him. I knew he was referring to us having sex. Sam was aware I’d been a virgin, but he didn’t know Dylan was, too. He would’ve had a field day with that piece of info.

“Same old, same old,” Conor muttered.

“My neighbour’s cat died,” Amy told us. “She’s battling with the council, because they won’t let her bury it outside the flats. The morbid twist is, it’s been dead a week, and she’s got it bagged up and chilling in her freezer until she can find an acceptable burial place.”

“Ew! A dead cat right next to the Birdseye chicken nuggets.” Sam made a face.

“Why doesn’t she just have it stuffed? My dad used to be friends with this bloke who did taxidermy on the weekends. His shed was full of dead animals,” Dylan said.

“Now that’s even creepier.” Conor shuddered. “Little Fluffy sitting on your mantelpiece forevermore. Watching you. Always watching.”

“I don’t mind stuffing animals. It’s just the idea of her keeping it in the freezer that freaks me out. Puts me right off my food every time I think about it.”

“I thought you’d be all into that sort of thing,” Sam commented.

“What? Because all goths love dead things?” she asked derisively. “I dress this way because it’s fucking cool, not because I think I’m a vampire or a zombie or some shit.”

“Fair enough,” Sam replied, hands in the air as he looked to Dylan again. “So, no news on your front?”

He slowly shook his head. “Nothing that springs to mind.”

“You sure? You didn’t make any unwise, spontaneous decisions that could change a young girl’s life forever?”

“Sam!” I hissed.

“What? He needs a talking to, and I’m the only one prepared to give it.”

I closed my eyes and buried my head in Dylan’s shoulder, mortified. “I’m so sorry about him,” I mumbled into his shirt.

“Still not ringing any bells?” Sam continued. “Well, I’ll spell it out for you. Next time, wear a rubber. We don’t want any little Dylalyns running around with nappies that need changing.”

That was it. As soon as I got Sam alone he was going to SUFFER. The ALL CAPS variety.

Dylan sounded amused. “Dylalyns?”

“It’s what your unwanted baby would be called. You know, like Brangelina?”

Dylan turned his head to whisper in my ear. “You told him?”

I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he went on, still whispering. “And I would’ve used protection only I didn’t exactly plan for it to happen.”

“No, I know that. He’s just making a big deal out of—”

“I can hear you both, you know,” Sam cut in. “And it’s not nothing.”

“Hold up a second, you two had sex?” Conor asked.

“If you ask me, it was obvious,” Amy added, unimpressed. “I mean, look at them. You can practically smell the pheromones.”

“It’s nobody’s business but ours,” I said. “So, you can all talk about something else.”

“Great. Now I’m the only one who’s still a virgin,” Conor grumped.

Sam gasped, his eyes on Dylan. “You were a virgin.”

Dylan shrugged, like it was no big deal.

“But how? What about all the Kirstys at school fighting to get into your britches?”

“Nobody uses the word ‘britches’ anymore,” Amy interjected.

“Well, I do,” Sam countered, still taken aback. “I can’t believe it.”

“Like I said, it’s not your business,” I repeated then glanced at Conor. “And don’t worry. You’re not the only virgin among us. Sam’s still as untouched as freshly fallen snow.”

“Evelyn,” Sam shrieked.

Conor chuckled. “Yay, now I feel less alone.”

Sam harrumphed and folded his arms, shooting me an irritable look as he pulled out his phone to check his messages. He proceeded to ignore everyone for the next half hour. I felt a little bad for outing him, but after embarrassing me in front of Dylan, he deserved it.

I’d just finished my second Coke when I leaned across to look at the screen of his phone. He was so absorbed in his text conversation that he didn’t even notice me reading over his shoulder.

Shane: Where u at?

Sam: Having drinks on the roof of The Morgan :-P

Shane: Living it large, eh? Me 2. I’ve been on the lash since yesterday.

Sam: Thought you might be on a continual sesh.

Shane: Why’s that?

Sam: Because you only ever text me when you’re shitfaced.

Sam: And haven’t been home in days.

Sam: And using poor judgement.

Shane: Fuck you.

Sam: Bye Shane.

He turned off his phone and I stiffened. I couldn’t believe he had Shane’s number. And it seemed like they’d been texting regularly.

“Sam,” I said, and he jumped, emitting a tiny gasp.

“Were you just reading—?”

“You’re texting Shane,” I whisper-hissed, and his mouth formed a thin line.

“If you and Dylan are none of my business, then me and Shane are none of yours.”

“Yes, but—”

“I mean it, Ev,” he gritted. His jaw was tight so I knew he was serious.

I stared at him for a long moment, and I couldn’t deny that my feelings were hurt. Things had obviously been transpiring between him and Shane, and I’d been privy to none of it. When he saw my sad expression, he let out a sigh and gave my hand a squeeze.

“Look, I just turned off my phone. I’m done with him. I’m not gonna be his dirty little secret.”

I studied him, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. “Promise?”

He squeezed my hand tighter. “I promise.”

“Hey, you lot. How’s everything going up here?” came Yvonne’s voice as she stepped onto the roof. Conor smiled wide when he saw her.

“Great. Thanks so much for letting us up here,” he said.

“Oh, no worries. And happy birthday,” she replied as she approached to give him a hug. Yvonne had always been a hugger, but she was unaware of how much the gesture meant to Conor. He looked like all his Christmases had come at once as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave a squeeze.

When she pulled back, her attention went to the drinks in front of Sam and me. We both had glasses of Coke, but while mine was unsullied, Sam’s was laced with vodka. I think she might’ve suspected as much, but she didn’t comment on it.

“Well, how are the celebrations going?”

“Great,” Amy enthused. She was a lot friendlier when she was drunk, and she’d already had a few. “This is an amazing spot. I can’t believe I never knew about it.”

Yvonne smiled. “It’s a hidden gem all right. Can I get you guys anything? Want any peanuts or scampi fries from down at the bar?”

“Yes,” I said. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all, hon.” She leaned over to give me a quick kiss on the temple. “I’ll be right back. I’m on my break for the next half hour.”

As soon as she was gone Conor looked around like he was on cloud nine. “She hugged me.”

“Yep. Better store the memory for tonight’s wet dream,” Amy teased.

“Nothing you say can ruin this for me, Amy. This is the best birthday ever.”

“Even better than that time your dad took us bowling?” Dylan asked with a grin.

“I think this just about trumps that,” Conor said sarcastically just as the door to the roof opened again. I was about to praise Yvonne for her speediness but then saw it wasn’t her.

It was Shane.

If you looked up the definition of drunk in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of him.

Sam immediately stood and hurried over. “What are you doing here?” he asked, frazzled. Shane didn’t answer, but instead grabbed Sam and kissed him right on the mouth. He looked like he was trying to eat his face, if I was being honest.

“Oh . . . my . . . God,” Amy breathed, slack-jawed.

“Look at that butt,” Conor added tipsily. She scowled at him, and he apologised. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

Sam was glued to the spot, too shocked by Shane’s sudden appearance to react right away.

“Should we . . . do something?” Dylan asked. He and I were the only two not intoxicated at this point.

“Don’t,” Amy hissed. “I want to see what happens next.”

“She’s right,” Conor added. “It’s like a soap opera.”

Finally, Sam gripped Shane’s shoulders and pushed him away. He sucked in a breath and whispered, “You need to leave.” For once in his life, he actually appeared embarrassed.

“But I wanted to see you,” Shane whined. He didn’t seem like his normal self at all. He was drunk and bleary eyed. Even his voice was less harsh. Maybe this was more of the real Shane than the bully who threw his weight around at school.

“Well, I don’t want to see you,” Sam replied and folded his arms across his chest.

Shane came closer and caught one of Sam’s hands in his. “Please, Sam. Just give me five minutes.”

Sam glanced at me, and I could see how conflicted he was. My eyes begged him not to give in, but he did anyway. “Okay, five minutes,” he sighed. “We can go downstairs.”

I was about to stand up and tell him not to go, but Dylan grabbed my arm. “Let him fight his own battles,” he murmured quietly.

“But I don’t want to. He’s my best friend.”

“You’re not his protector. He’s stronger than you think.”

Was he though? Despite all his big talk, my little Sam was so diminutive and sensitive when it came down to it. He was a gentle soul. And gentle souls shouldn’t try to find their match in hard ones. They only got crushed in the end.

The door closed behind them, and I grew anxious. Every second I wanted to get up and follow, but I knew Dylan was right. Sam wouldn’t thank me for meddling. The last time I did all I achieved was a punch in the face.

Dylan wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “He’ll be okay. And if he isn’t I’ll give Shane a hiding.”

I mustered a smile. “My hero.”

He circled my wrist with his fingers. His thumb brushed against the inside and a quiver ran through me. He made a low hum in the back of his throat before he pondered, “How shall I help you relax?”

The low, quiet way he spoke made my tummy flutter. I blinked a few times then pressed a soft, unsure kiss to his lips. “Kissing is good.”

“It is. If only your aunt wasn’t coming back up in a minute.”

“If only,” I sighed then settled into him. I liked the feel of his body at my side.

When Yvonne returned, her arms were full of salty snacks. She dropped them all on the table and announced, “Dig in. I don’t consider my job done unless your cholesterol has risen a few points before the night is through.”

I laughed and opened up a packet of peanuts.

Yvonne’s brows furrowed as she looked around. “Where’d Sam go?”

“His friend turned up. He’ll be back in a little bit,” I replied, not getting into the fact that it was Shane. My aunt was even more protective of Sam than I was. If I was her adoptive daughter, he was her adoptive son.

She sat between Conor and Amy, and Conor seemed content to just gaze at her longingly.

“So, another birthday bites the dust, eh?” she said and took a sip from the glass of orange juice she’d brought up. “Tell us, what are your hopes for the next year?”

Yvonne was all about the hopes and dreams. And she loved people who were like her, people who aspired to more than what they were handed. I was sure she’d approve of Dylan’s aspirations for a better life.

“Getting into college will be good enough for me,” Conor replied. “At the very least it’ll keep my parents happy.”

“Oh, but you must want more than that,” Yvonne chided. “A girlfriend, maybe? Perhaps to meet your idol?”

Conor knocked back a long gulp of beer. I could see his tipsiness gave him courage to converse with Yvonne. “I don’t really have any idols, but a girlfriend would be nice.” He flashed her a sheepish grin. “You’re single, right?”

Yvonne chuckled and smacked him on the shoulder. “Oh, you sweet talker.” She thought he was joking, which was funny because we all knew he wasn’t. “I’m sure Ev might have a few friends at school she could introduce you to.”

I shot her a look. “You know Sam is my only friend, and I’m pretty sure Conor isn’t interested.”

“Well, what about Amy here? She’s your friend, isn’t she?” Yvonne went on.

Amy and I exchanged a glance. Technically, we were friends, but we’d never really spent any time alone together. “Well, yes, but—”

Amy held up a hand to stop me. “I’m not a candidate. Going out with Conor would be like dating my brother.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad.”

She arched a brow. “Do you want to go out with me?”

“I see your point.”

“Just out of curiosity, are there any boys at school you’re interested in?” I inquired.

“I’d do Owen Costello, and Eddie Ryan’s not bad-looking. Other than that, no. They’re all vile.”

Both of the boys she mentioned were lone wolf types, a little like Dylan, actually. I wondered why she never thought to fancy him. Then again, they’d been friends since they were little. Maybe it’d just feel too weird to like someone you’d known that long.

“Eddie Ryan sits next to me in Biology,” I said. “I could put in a good word for you.”

Amy shifted closer. “Now we’re talking. What’ll you say?”

“I could ask him if he has a girlfriend.”

“Don’t do that.” Dylan frowned. “He’ll think you’re asking for yourself.”

“No, he won’t. Boys at school aren’t interested in me.”

Dylan gave a disbelieving laugh. “You’re funny, Evelyn. Hilarious.”

“Yeah,” Amy added. “Everybody thinks you’re gorgeous. It’s annoying.”

“If that’s the case, then why don’t I ever get asked out?” I countered.

“Because if they did I’d kill them,” Dylan shot back, his arm around my waist now. It was a little too intimate for my liking, given that Yvonne was sitting right there talking to Conor. I shifted in place, but he didn’t lessen his hold.

“Well, anyway, I’m fairly sure Eddie Ryan isn’t interested in me, so I can do some matchmaking for Amy. I’ll talk to him on Monday and let you know how it goes at lunch.”

“Tell him I’ll meet him in the toilets for a quickie.”

“Amy,” Dylan admonished. “You will not—”

“I’m joking. Just tell him, I don’t know, that I think he’s hot and see what he says.”

“I may have to rephrase it slightly, but I’ll do my best.”

“I don’t like this,” Dylan grumped.

I furrowed my brow. “Why?”

“Because you’re my girlfriend, that’s why.”

That shut me right up, and my heart raced. We hadn’t made things official, not yet. I suspected in Dylan’s head us being an item went without saying. My mouth ran dry as I stared at him. I also wondered if Yvonne had heard, but when I glanced across the table she and Conor were deep in conversation.

“Well, yes,” I replied shakily. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t play matchmaker for Amy.” I tried to be cool, but it was hard when his words kept running through my head in a loop.

You’re my girlfriend.

You’re my girlfriend.

You’re my girlfriend.

“Fine,” he allowed. “But if he tries coming onto you, I’ll give him a hiding.”

“Jaysus, you’re in the mood to give half of Dublin a hiding tonight,” Amy commented wryly. Dylan flipped her off just as Yvonne let out a squeak of surprise.

I looked over just in time to see Conor try to kiss her. She leapt up from her seat like it was on fire. “Oh no, honey, that’s not what I—”

“I didn’t mean it. I was only joking,” Conor replied lamely.

Not one to prolong anyone’s embarrassment, my aunt sucked in a quick breath and pulled herself together. “Right well, I need to be getting back to the bar. You lot enjoy the rest of your party, and Ev, I’ll see you at the flat later.”

With that she turned and hurried out the door. Sam was returning as she left, but she was too flustered to stop and talk to him. He stared at her retreating figure then looked to the rest of us. His hair was askew, his clothes rumpled, and his lips raw. Obviously, he and Shane had some sort of fumble, and my chest burned for him.

Oh Sam, what are you doing?

“Okay, that was weird. What did I miss?”

Conor stared at the ground while Dylan, Amy, and I struggled for the right words to explain his awkward, mortifying attempt to kiss my aunt. Instead of making him suffer, I decided to be merciful and change the subject.

“Nothing. Now come over and help me finish these Cokes before our time here runs out. You’ve been gone too long.”