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Best Player: A Romantic Comedy Series (Dreaming of Book 1) by Anne Thomas (16)

: Apprehension

Somehow, while I was getting ready, I managed to let Glyn's little visit slip to the back of my mind. It was probably a combination of struggling to get ready in time and nervousness over the fact that everyone would be arriving soon, coupled with the fact that Billie would be there and would also meet my family...

"I think you chose a perfect outfit," Pascal informed me as she helped lace up the red corset that came with my costume. It wasn't a proper corset in the sense that it didn't make my waist look any smaller, but it did fasten in a similar way. My dress was floor-length, black, with a slit running up the side. The corset was red with black netting over it, and a black spider was pinned to the top of it just underneath my breasts. It goes without saying that the outfit didn't really please either of my older brothers, but I didn't really care.

I wasn't sure, really, whether the outfit was supposed to be for a vampire or a witch. It didn't come with a hat; so I suppose that did rule out the latter, but you never know.

"What makes you say that?" I asked as I stepped away from her, twisting and turning as I looked at myself in the floor-length mirror in my parents' room.

"Well, it suits you, firstly," Pascal explained. I contested that (it was a little bit too tight, if you know what I mean), but I wasn't about to argue. "And it's somewhat...daring. Billie will love it."

"Which isn't necessarily a good thing," Matty growled from outside the closed bedroom door. Pascal rolled her eyes and flung the door open.

"Matthew, you shouldn't listen behind doors," she scolded. "And Billie seems like a nice boy. If you keep up with your overprotective brother act when he gets here tonight you can forget about sex tonight."

I blanched. I didn't want to think about that. Matty's face flushed scarlet and he stumbled off down the landing. Pascal snorted.

"You look lovely, Nerys," Pascal then said sincerely. "Your make up is, of course, superb." She looked proud as she said that, which she would, because she did my make up. My face was a deathly white and my lips were dark red. She'd also put dark grey eye shadow under my eyes and had used red lip liner to put a trickle of crimson coming out of the corner of my mouth.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Yes, it is," I agreed. "I just need to do my hair."

Pascal's face lit up. While she is studying graphic design, there is nothing Pascal loves more than hairdressing. Unfortunately for her however my dad runs his own hair salon.

"No, my dad's doing my hair," I shook my head at her, "He'll be quicker, we've already discussed what style I'm having." I eyed the digital clock on my mother's bedside table. "Look, it's half-five, I'd best..."

She pouted. "could do your hair," she reminded me petulantly as we padded downstairs.

"You could," I said, "But my father is. Sorry."

My mother fussed over my outfit when I came into the dining room. The dining room was usually just your basic magnolia walls and cream coloured carpet and pretty pictures, but for today the room was lit by pumpkin lanterns and there were numerous Halloween decorations placed strategically around the room – glow in the dark meat cleavers hung on the walls, giant plastic tarantulas amidst the platters of snacks, 'cobwebs' strewn along the windowsill, Halloween balloons floating around the ceiling. I knew that the rest of the house would be done up in a very similar fashion.

"Your father's in the kitchen," my mother said after she'd finished rearranging the laces on my corset (apparently Pascal's method of lacing just wasn't good enough). "He's going to do your hair in there because it's lighter."

I went into the kitchen. Pete was sat on the countertop, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he stared with narrowed eyes at his phone. My father was fussing around in his basket of hairdressing paraphernalia, and a chair was placed in the middle of the kitchen.

I perched on the chair, my hands fumbling together in my lap.

"Okay, so, princess, I'm at a complete loss with what to do to your hair," my father said with a sniff. He picked up handfuls of my hair and then let it drop. "You're a vampire."

I nodded and rolled my eyes. "Sure."

"What about a beehive?" Pascal suggested, sweeping into the kitchen with Matty in tow.

"Isn't that more Frankenstein's bride than Dracula's bride?" Pete spoke up, pushing his phone into his pocket and flicking ash into his Bob Marley ashtray.

"Or just a classy updo of some kind..." Pascal shrugged. "It should be up and off her face, at least."

I couldn't see my father, but I knew he was shooting Pascal a look that screamed 'I'm the hairdresser here, Pascal!'

"Right, okay then." Dad sounded kind of tired, and then he began to work on my hair.

By the time he was done – lots of curling and choking hairspray later, that is – my hair was arranged into a pile of rigid curls on top of my head.

"You look lovely, princess." My father dropped a kiss on my forehead and then ushered me out of the kitchen. "Now go, your guess will be arriving soon."

And, just as I got into the living room, the doorbell rang. I rolled my eyes and went to open the door.

It was Beth and Sian. I'd expected them to be the first to arrive seeing as they didn't live so far away. I knew that Elisha and Sharon were coming together, and that all of the boys were coming together as well. I wasn't sure about Ann.

Beth had opted to be a ghost and had backcombed her hair into a crazy tangle for the occasion. Her face was paler than mine and her dress was very loose and resembled a sheet more than anything.

And Sian...Well, I wasn't sure what Sian was at first. She had a red cape on, and a miniscule red and black dress and long black socks and red high heels. Her lips were painted red and her eyeliner was thicker than usual. She also had a basket over one arm.

"Okay, I'll bite," I said eventually, after eyeing Sian for a few moments. "What are you?"

"I'm Little Red Riding Hood, of course!" she chirped, as if it should have been obvious, twirling on the spot. She very nearly twirled right off the step before Beth caught her.

I just stared at her, slightly open-mouthed, and didn't comment. Beth shook her head at me.

Gareth trundled down the stairs. Like me, he'd gone for a vampire costume, but he just looked adorable. I couldn't resist giving him a squeeze as he bounded over to say hello to my friends. He shoved me away.

"Nerys," I heard my mother call from behind me, "Don't leave them standing on the doorstep, that's very rude."

"Yeah, Nerys," Sian sniggered, edging further into the house. "That's very rude." She dumped her sleeping bag and rucksack onto the floor before going into the living room. Beth followed her example. I was just about to shut the door when Ann's car pulled up.

She got out of the car looking incredibly different to the Ann I knew. Her red hair was loose and curly, very glossy and healthy-looking, and her glasses were nowhere to be seen. Her dress was red and looked like velvet, with a diagonal hemline, and it looked like she was wearing sheer red tights. Devil horns were placed upon her head and her devil trident was shoved under one of her arms, balancing precariously on top of her duvet. I trotted down the steps and into the street to take her rucksack from her.

"You look really nice," I told her.

"The red doesn't clash with my hair, does it?" she asked as we deposited her things in the hallway.

I eyed her outfit again. "Not at all," I said decisively. "Actually, it goes really well with your hair. You look really nice."

I ushered her into the living room, where she was swallowed by the hugs of Beth and Sian. My brothers all watched on with amused eyes, while Pascal rose from her seat to introduce herself to Ann and then fawn over her choice of outfit.

It was about three minutes later when Elisha and Sharon arrived. Sharon was a witch, in a very simple, long black dress with a wide leather belt around the waist, with a rather dramatic hat to complete the outfit. Elisha was much more eccentric, in a dress with a black bodice and then a multi-coloured skirt made out of lots of different scraps of fabric. Her tights were striped, black and orange in colour, and she wore massive army boots on her feet. She also had pale pink wings and a silver glittery wand. It was then I realised that Elisha had never met Pascal, and I knew that they would get along.

"Are there still more to arrive?" Pete asked about ten minutes after their arrival. He was staring at the TV, but he made a quick glance at the watch on his wrist. "If there is, they're late."

"The boys aren't here yet," Ann answered for me, chucking Grimm under the chin and then shooing the tabby off her lap.

"Hmm," Matty grumbled. I knew he secretly thought that it was a good thing they were late, and he was hoping that their lateness meant that they weren't going to show.

And then, as if by magic, the doorbell rang once more. This time, everyone – including my brothers – came to answer the door with me, which left very little space for the new arrivals to get in.

So I turned and told my older brothers to go away. They did as they were told, complaining loudly as they went into the dining room with Pascal. For some reason, Ann chose to go with them – it appeared she'd struck up some kind of conversation with Pascal that desperately needed continuing. The rest of my friends reluctantly went back into the living room, and I turned to greet Adam, John, Louis and Billie.

John came as a mummy, and a very pristine, clean one at that. He'd basically wrapped himself in toilet paper, and was wearing what looked like a white T-shirt and white tights underneath. Completing the look was, naturally, a pair of beat up Converse, which I'm sure all pharaohs wore in Ancient Egypt.

Louis had opted for being a zombie. Not just any zombie, of course; the zombie of Cristiano Ronaldo, which I found highly amusing. Although Louis tried his hardest to look like the Portuguese winger, I still wasn't really sure if Louis idolised Ronaldo or hated him. But anyway, he was wearing a Manchester United football shirt and the rest of his outfit resembled the rest of the Man United kit. It was all ripped and torn, however, and it looked like Louis had put a lot of effort into destroying the items of clothing he wore. He appeared to have put even more effort into covering all visible skin in green make up. I felt like giving him a hug for trying so hard.

Adam had been true to his word and came as a vampirate. Or, in other words, he came dressed like a pirate except he had those irritating plastic fangs on. He even had a parrot perched on his shoulder and when I looked closer, I saw he'd attached two cardboard fangs to its bright yellow beak.

And then there was Billie. He looked like an older version of Gareth in the sense their outfits were near identical – you know, black waistcoat over a white shirt with one of those black capes with the huge collars. His hair was gelled back off his face, and his face was powdered white like mine was. However, while Gareth looked adorable, Billie didn't. He looked kind of...hot, for some reason, and the sudden thought made me feel like banging my head off the wall.

I ushered them into the living room. "There are snacks in the dining room," I informed everyone as the boys settled into seats, "But I'd appreciate it if everyone stayed out of there until my brothers clear off upstairs. It's in everyone's best interest."

John snorted at my words. "Our best interests, you mean," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he gestured at himself and the other lads.

"Yes." I nodded. Gareth crept into the room at that point, his mouth stretched into a thin line.

"Hello, Gareth," Billie said with a friendly wink. "We match. You see, I'm Dracula, and Nerys is my bride, although she'll probably kill me later for saying that. Drive a stake through my heart and all that shit."

Gareth snorted and nudged me with his elbow. I raised one eyebrow at Billie and said coolly, "Don't encourage me."

"Nerys, um, I think Matty's feeling kind of murderous," Gareth then muttered to me. "Just a little bit, though."

"How's Pascal doing in calming him down?"

"She's...doing...well, she's being Pascal."

"So she's humming and murmuring in French and threatening to not sleep with him?" I rolled my eyes. "Typical. Not being very helpful, is she?"

There were a few moments of companionable silence during which we all twiddled our thumbs, not knowing what to say. It was Adam who broke the silence.

"So, Sian, I've been trying to work it out but honestly I haven't a clue what you are," he said rather bluntly.

"I'm Little Red Riding Hood, of course," Sian announced, standing up and doing another twirl. This time, she added a flirtatious wink for good measure, and I noticed that Ann had come back into the room and was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across her chest.

"Little Red Riding Hooker, more like it," Ann snorted. "Now we know why she spent so much time in the woods. She was trying to pick people up."

Everyone's eyes flew to Ann, and then to Sian, waiting for her reaction. Sian laughed, however. Any comments like that about her, when made by friends, seemed to bounce straight off her without getting under her skin.

"Hello, Ann," John smirked, doing a rather over the top wink in her direction. "Nice dress. Y'know, it'd look better on my..."

"Don't finish that sentence," Ann interrupted, holding up her hand for silence.

"Where are your glasses?" Louis asked, leaning forwards so he could see around Adam, John and Billie.

"I figured I could see without them for one night," Ann responded, shrugging. She walked carefully over to the Sian and dropped down in what had been Siân's seat. Sian noticed this and decided to place herself on Ann's lap. Rather than shove her off, Ann wound her arms around Siân's waist.

That was when I noticed that Adam's eyes were fixed in Siân's direction. I rolled my eyes. It appeared that the barely-there dress was doing its trick.

I felt a hand curl around my wrist and tug me away from the wall I'd been leaning on. My heart hammering, I toppled into Billie's lap with a short shriek.

Smacking him on the chest, I righted myself so I was at least sat upright (and, more importantly, so my head wasn't in John's crotch). I glared at him. "What was the point?" I said, my face heating up as I began to climb off him.

"Nerys, get off him," Pete barked as he bulldozed into the room. Naturally, Matty wasn't too far behind. Glaring at the boys lined up on the sofa, Pete then commanded, "Introduce yourselves."

I scrambled off Billie's knee and threw myself on top of Sian and Ann. "Save me," I hissed. "Embarrassing older brothers are about to –"

"Oh, stop whining," Sian snorted, shoving me away from her, "You should see Gethin when I bring a lad home."

True.

I peaked at my brothers through the gaps in my hands.

"Well?" Matty prompted. "Not you, Jervis," he added as John opened his mouth to answer. "We know who you are."

"Let's cut straight to the point," Pete continued, silencing Adam who had just been about to speak. "Which one's Bobby?"

"Billie," I groaned through my hands. "His name's Billie, you stupid idiot!"

Matty pointed at me. "Don't get any funny ideas," he warned Billie. "My sister is joining a nunnery once she's finished university."

"And she's going to wear steel underwear," Pete chipped in, nodding gravely.

Billie, rather than looking terrified (as I assume that was what Pete and Matty were going for), looked highly amused. Louis and John looked like they were going to burst out laughing at any second, as did the rest of my friends. I just felt mortified.

"I'll bear that in mind," Billie responded, and I grabbed the nearest cushion and threw it at him. It bounced off his head and landed on the floor. That was probably the wrong answer.

If it were possible, Matty's eyes narrowed even more. His pointing finger swapped directions so he was pointing at Billie. Thinking quickly, I grasped another cushion and prepared to throw it at my brother, but Pascal came to my rescue.

"Bonsoir, Billie," she greeted him, popping her head around the door. "Je présente mes excuses pour mon fiancé. Il est juste un peu plus de protection Nerys. Ignorer.*"

"Hello again," Billie grinned. "And again, what a nice dress you're wearing. It suits you."

It was a dress covered in bits of mirror. It was hideous. I shot Billie a look, which he ignored.

"How sweet," Pascal cooed, "You are a vampire like Nerys. Did you plan it between yourselves?" Her hand was resting lightly on Matty's arm, but I could see her nails were digging in to his arm.

"Yes," Billie answered, just as I said, "No."

Billie just grinned again. "I'm Dracula," he told her, "And she's my Bride."

"That is very sweet!" Pascal's face was practically split in two with the size of her smile. "Anyway, Matty, Pete, let's go upstairs. We'd better watch that film before they decide they want to watch it too."

"What film is it?" I heard Gareth ask as Pascal ushered Pete and Matty out of the room.

"À l'intérieur," Pascal replied. "It's French."

"So that's Pascal," Adam said to me. "I've wanted to meet her ever since that stuff with Mari. That was an...interesting dress."

"She always dresses like that," I sighed. "Anyway, shall we go and get snacks? Then we can put on a film or something." I stood and began to walk through to the dining room.

"What film?" John asked, wrapping an arm around my waist as he followed me.

"I don't know, whatever you want to watch," I shrugged. "Pete has an extensive collection of horror films from all over the world," I added. "Some are actually scary and some are just downright sick. Oh, and Pascal brought over two French films but I figure they're watching one of them right now. So, it's entirely up to you."

I began to help myself to Pringles and bacon-wrapped chipolatas.

I eyed my friends as they all exchanged looks, and then Elisha tentatively asked, "Scary Movie, anyone?"

Scary Movie it was, then.

A little over an hour later, we stumbled out of the house, all carrying Halloween bags for trick or treating and fully gorged on party snacks and chocolate. The film – well, we'd all seen it loads of times, but it still made us laugh, so we'd had some fun while watching it. When it was over, my mother had suggested we go out before it got too late.

So there we were, trooping down the streets of my hometown, avoiding groups of overexcited toddlers and only knocking on the doors of houses that had visible Halloween decorations in the windows.

Like this one house just a few streets away from my home. There was a glittery Halloween banner above the door and about six pumpkins in the window. We decided it was Siân's turn to knock on the door, because she'd been avoiding doing so all night by lagging behind. Actually, it was rather mysterious then how many sweets managed to end up in her bag.

But naturally, it was an awful decision to make. The door opened, and a man was stood there. I knew his name was Mr Williams and that he used to go to church, and that he had a son named Henry. He was all smiles and wore a navy sweater, and shouted for Henry to come along and "see the big people's costumes".

And Henry did come along, running down the stairs dressed in a white ghosts costume. He was only about four, very small with white blonde hair and a big grin. I'm not so keen on kids, but he was pretty adorable. And then he put the hood of his costume up, and we realised that it was a very unfortunately shaped hood. It was a pointed hood. It wasn't too dissimilar from a Ku Klux Klan hood.

Which wouldn't have been a problem if we hadn't been studying the Ku Klux Klan only a few weeks earlier in History.

"It's the Ku Klux Klan kid!" Sian suddenly exploded, clapping her hand over her mouth. "Oh my God!"

It goes without saying that, while we all found this amusing, Mr Williams certainly didn't. He looked very affronted and grudgingly gave us some sweets, and only then after Ann and myself profusely apologised. Once we'd said goodbye to them, I set about berating Sian.

"Sian, he's only four," I scolded.

"He didn't know what the hell I was talking about," she reminded me with a roll of her eyes. "And his father really overreacted, as are you. Shut up, and give me the chocolate."

Reluctantly, I handed her some chocolate skeletons and then moved away from her to dole out Mr William's sweets to everyone else.

We then turned a corner into another street and, rather than meeting the usual gang of toddlers accompanied by their parents, we ran straight into Gwen, Suzanne, Gordon, Evelyn, Linda, and a few other boys and girls from our school year. I'd forgotten, you see, that Evelyn had gone to my primary school and that she lived only a few streets away from me. That's an easy thing to do – I don't like her, she doesn't like me, so we just act like the other doesn't exist.

At first, it all seemed like it was going to go okay – like we'd just walk past them and act like they weren't there, but then Gwen just had to open her big fat mouth.

"Hey, Nerys, stop a second..."

Stupidly, I did. My group of friends walked on a little bit but then came to a halt when they realised I wasn't following them.

"Evelyn said that Glyn was looking for you earlier," Gwen continued, quite loudly. Like Ann, she'd chosen to dress up as a sexy devil, but unlike Ann the sexiness just fell flat on its face. "She was just wondering if he found you."

"Oh, he found her," Gordon chipped in silkily, voice just as loud. "I was on my way to Evelyn's and I saw them both together."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You did?" I asked, hearing the surprise in my voice. "I don't remember seeing you." Which was true, because I didn't.

"Nerys, come on," John urged me. I ignored him.

"Well, I was there," Gordon snapped, "Because I definitely remember seeing you open the door in your bathrobe. And I thought you had a little more self-respect than Sian over there."

"You're making it sound like I opened it in the midst of a seduction or something," I replied with a roll of my eyes. "Oh, and you're missing the part where my brother kicked him out of the house and I told him to not bother coming back."

And I turned away from them, walking back to join my friends.

"Does your boyfriend know?" Gordon shouted after my retreating back.

I looked over my shoulder. "What?"

"As in Billie," Gwen joined in, her voice sounding disgusted. "Your boyfriend?"

"Huh." Gordon snorted. "Boyfriend. There hasn't exactly been much evidence of that, but there you go."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Billie demanded, temper flaring up. He pushed past John and Sharon and strode straight over to Gordon. They were about the same height, and glowered at each other menacingly. If it had been at any other moment, I probably would have laughed at them both.

"Well, you don't act like a couple. I mean, you sit with her and hang around with her and shit, but you don't do anything like hug her..." Gordon shrugged, and Gwen picked up from where he left off.

"And apart from that day at the cinema, I haven't seen you two kiss. It just seems kind of...fake. And she doesn't even tell you that Glyn visited her? You two don't really have a promising relationship," Gwen sneered.

I looked up at Billie, but he was looking at Gwen and Gordon, a curious kind of expression on his face. Then he looked down at me, his face changing slightly, and before I could even guess what he was going to do, he kissed me.

It wasn't like the first kiss in the sense that I didn't get this overwhelming urge to push him away, and it wasn't as sweet. It was just that tiniest bit more passionate and it was a lot more pleasant than the first time. But the biggest difference was the sinking feeling I felt in my stomach – a sinking feeling that meant something had changed, or something bad was going to happen. Maybe, the sinking feeling meant both.

It was him who pulled away this time, not me, leaving me kind of leaning towards him with my lips puckered. I moved backwards and felt my face flush out of embarrassment, and then Billie's hand was on my arm and he was slowly pulling me away.

"All of you, just stay away from us," he said over his shoulder. "It's really none of your business. Come on," he added for the rest of our friends.

And they followed, and I followed, and Sian bypassed me, muttering, "Love, I don't see how you two can pretend your little thing is just pretend, not after that," in my ear as she went.

Once we'd left Gwen and everyone behind, and the rest of our group were a little way ahead of us, I pulled on Billie's arm to get his attention. "Billie, about Glyn, I did mean to tell you..."

He shrugged and held up a hand, effectively silencing me. "Not now," he said. "We'll talk about it tomorrow." Shoving his hands into his pockets, he set off at a slow jog to catch up with Adam and Louis, leaving me walking alone.

That sinking feeling I'd felt in my stomach only got worse, until I just felt sick. Really sick. By the next morning – after the sleepover, which just involved a lot of giggling, shrieking, and eating chocolate as we made our way through numerous horror films and ended with my mother storming into the room at five in the morning to tell us to go to sleep – I realised that the sick feeling in my belly wasn't just an after effect of too much chocolate and not enough fluids. No, it was a feeling of apprehension.

And that feeling of apprehension was about to be proved right.

*Bonsoir, Billie. Je présente mes excuses pour mon fiancé. Il est juste un peu plus de protection Nerys.

 

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