: Happy New Year

"Nerys Catherine Powell, if you're not downstairs in one minute I will send your brother up to come and get you! You're making us late, girl!" my mother's voice shouted up the stairs. I winced when I heard it and then turned back to the mirror to finish applying my lipstick.

It was New Year's Eve, and that meant one thing for a lot of the residents of Llynmawr: The New Year Llynmawr Bash (don't look at me: I didn't come up with the title). It's a party hosted by the Kyffin family. The Kyffins live in this huge manor house outside of town, are filthy rich, and send their two kids to one of the most expensive private schools in the area. While they were really quite snobby, and their kids were detestable, the Kyffins seemed to feel it was their duty to throw massive parties at least twice every year and invite just about everyone they knew along.

Margaret Kyffin gets her hair done at my dad's salon, so we've always received an invite for as long as I can remember. Most of my friends are usually invited for various reasons. It's not exactly the highlight of my year, because I usually end up sat at a table with Beth, Siân, Elisha and my brothers, taking the piss out of some of the more over the top party guests, and not much else. There are very few people at the party who aren't rich.

"Nerys," my father's voice shouted upstairs now, "Hurry up, or we'll leave without you."

I turned around, examining my outfit fully in my floor length mirror. Pascal had suggested that I wear the dress I'd worn for the disco again, but I'd decide to wear my old pencil skirt with this black and white striped top my parents got me for Christmas. I paired it with some black tights with a floral pattern and some red flat shoes. A red beaded necklace finished the outfit.

Appeased with my appearance, I trotted downstairs, the handbag that Pascal had bought me as a Christmas present swinging from my arm.

"Finally," Pete grumbled. He was just annoyed because my father had cut his hair last night and, as my father had already downed a couple of cans of beer, had cut off way too much and Pete now had the shortest hairstyle he'd had since he was thirteen. Making his temper worse was the fact that my mother had forced him to remove his facial piercings for the party. "What took you so long?"

"I was just, you know." I waved my hand in the air. They all stared at me. "Well, these tights are hard to put on without ripping them. They're like fishnets."

Pete looked incredulous. "What, we're late because you were putting on your fucking tights?"

"Watch your language!" my mother cried, smacking my brother's shoulders. He winced and we all began to troop out of the house.

"No, we're late because I had to shave my legs," I explained, sticking my tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes. "Hey, Pete, I would have embarrassed the whole family if I turned up at the Kyffins with leg hair sticking out through the holes in my tights."

"I don't want to know," he responded curtly, looking longingly towards Matt and Pascal as they climbed into her car. He had to ride in our car, which meant that Pete, Gareth and me would be squashed into the backseat. You could just tell he was dying to jump into Pascal's car.

"Cheer up, brother," I said fondly as I settled myself into the seat. Pete, for some reason, had plonked himself in the middle of the backseat, easily the most cramped spot as you're sandwiched in between the two other passengers.

"Why should I cheer up? I'm going to some fucking party held by some posh nobs that don't even acknowledge that we're human beings half the time," he growled, raking a hand through his spiky, sticking up hair.

"Peter Powell, watch your language!" my mother cried from the front seat over the sound of the radio.

"You should cheer up because Gethin's going, yeah?" I nodded at him, and he glared at me. "Well, you can do what you did last time."

"What? Get totally bladdered and graffiti the Kyffins front door with pictures of dicks?"

"That was you?" my mother hissed in a betrayed-sounding voice. My brother clapped a hand over his face, groaning.

"It was more Gethin," I informed my mother. "Pete just stood there and wet himself laughing."

My mother was tutting. "That Gethin. He's a sweet boy but he can be a bad influence...I blame his mother."

My mother loved Gethin Jones, and for some reason, she adored Siân as well, not to mention their two kid brothers. She even quite liked their father. Their mother, however, she disapproved of. I mean, Kate Bateman (she's divorced from their father and doesn't share their surname anymore) is a nurse and goes to church every Sunday, but she's probably slept with half of Llynmawr. She is really nice, though. She bakes nice cakes.

Anyway.

"It's not like the Kyffins can't afford a new door," my brother complains quietly. "They could probably afford to buy a new door for every house in Llynmawr."

True enough.

About twenty minutes later, we finally arrived at the Kyffin house – or, more appropriately, manor: it's three storeys tall, has more rooms than you can care to count, and is decorated throughout with plenty of antiques, ugly rugs and awful but highly expensive paintings.

Pascal's car was already parked up outside the house – albeit, haphazardly and almost in one of the perfectly manicured flowerbeds, but still, it was there.

We all clambered out of our car and hurried to the house, showing our invitation to the snooty looking man stood at the door.

The party takes place in this massive room in the centre of the house. It's always very brightly lit and there's usually a buffet and lots of little tables dotted around the room, not to mention their private bar.

As we walked through the doors, Margaret Kyffin swooped down on us. She's a vivacious and buxom woman with bright orange hair curled to perfection, and a rather pointy, sharp face that manages to look about twenty-five and fifty five at the same time. It's hard to pinpoint her exact age because of the plastic surgery, I guess.

She was wearing an awful low cut green dress and pointy shoes and, of course, plenty of pearls and gold jewellery.

"David, David!" she cried, grabbing my father's hand with her free one (the other one cradled a glass of champagne). "How nice it is to see you! So glad you could make it! I've already seen your son, Matthew, his girlfriend is very...interesting, is she not?"

"Yes..." My father began to converse with Margaret, while Gareth, Pete and I quietly abandoned our parents to find our friends.

Situated around a table in the farthest corner, we found Beth and Siân, accompanied by Gethin and Siân's younger brothers, Bryn and Evan. Elisha stood a few feet away, talking to Winn Kyffin (Elisha looked as if she wanted to make a run for it).

"Hey," I said in greeting, dropping into the only free seat. Grumbling noisily, Gareth and Pete both pulled up chairs of their own – Gareth sitting next to Bryn, who is a year younger than him, and Pete sitting next to Gethin.

"I like your skirt," Siân complimented, eyes staring towards the bar. I looked over and saw Liam Wace trying to attract the bartender's attention, clad in tight-fitting black pants and a purple shirt with the first few buttons left open. Siân's idea of heaven.

"It's an old one," I replied. "And Siân, put your eyes back in your head."

"He just looks nice," she pouted. Beth snorted.

"So, how long has Winn been talking to Elisha?" I asked.

"Oh, for about fifteen minutes," Beth said, bored. "She jumped on Elisha almost as soon as she arrived."

Winn Kyffin was our age. Her name was actually Winifred, but no one ever called her that. She had the same sharp facial features as her mother but was tall and lanky like her father, and wore her dark brown hair loose and perfectly straight at all times. She also talked with one of the most annoying voices I've ever heard in my life – it was nasal and sounded more British than Welsh (I can't say anything, though. I sound like Cerys Matthews on helium).

Winn's horse riding instructor was Elisha's mother. Because of this the girls knew each other outside of school, although Winn scared Elisha.

"Shouldn't one of us go and rescue her?"

"If you want to," Beth said slowly, "But then Winn will only latch on to you. It's not worth it."

"Yeah, save yourself, Nerys!" Siân boomed, drinking a large mouthful of coke. Because of her enthusiastic yell as she swallowed, most of it went down the wrong way and she wound up having a coughing fit.

Elisha used this as her excuse to run away from Winn. She bounded over looking extremely relieved, plonked herself onto Beth's lap and closed her eyes. "That girl just talks and talks and talks," she complained loudly.

"You should just tell her to fuck off," Gethin told her darkly. Gethin is a rather intimidating, tattooed figure with a shaved head and numerous facial piercings; those who knew him also knew he was a lovely guy, once you got past his appearance. Well, he was most of the time.

Elisha glared at Gethin. It was a rare thing to see on her face, and we all did a double take. "Don't swear," she scolded the older boy in a tone reminiscent of her mother's, "It's not gentlemanly, there are ladies present."

Gethin and Pete cracked up laughing. "Okay, okay, Eliza," Gethin said, ruffling her hair. "I won't swear."

"It's Elisha!" she exploded, attempting to deliver the fiercest glare possible. It failed when he pulled a face at her and she cracked up laughing, my earlier irritation vanishing.

An hour or so passed, us chatting amicably about Christmas. I told them about our fairly disastrous Christmas dinner (we had dinner with Pascal's family and finally sat down to eat at midnight), while Elisha informed us with wide, upset eyes about how Ed and her mother had engaged in a furious row on Christmas Eve because Ed wanted to go to Christmas dinner at her house.

Gethin and Pete sloped off later on, presumably to get drunk and flirt with any girls there who were around their age. Siân also left to talk to Liam about something or other, leaving us in charge of her younger brothers. Gareth and Bryn also scampered off eventually, although I've no idea what they were doing.

Beth and I were just in the process of teaching little Evan how to say the word "dick" properly (he kept on saying "dick-uh" in a really exaggerated manner, which just shows that Siân taught him how to say the word in the first place), when a quiet, accented voice interrupted our lesson.

"Nerys? Would you like to dance?"

I looked up to see Antal Kiss stood over me. He was smiling, the grin really reaching his hazel eyes, and he wore a pale blue striped shirt and jeans. He looked gorgeous and I really wasn't expecting to see him there.

"Sure," I managed after feeling slightly stunned. Elisha and Beth giggled to each other while trying to stop Evan from climbing on top of the table.

"So why are you here?" I asked him as led me onto the dance floor.

"My mother is friends with Margaret Kyffin," he explained, gesturing towards the side of the dance floor with his free hand, where a tall pretty woman with toffee coloured hair was stood, talking into a phone, looking very happy. His sister Bianka was sat at a table nearby, head propped on her palm and looking incredibly bored.

"Fair enough," I murmured. "Who is she talking to?" I asked as we began to dance.

"My father," Antal responded softly. "He is in Hungary."

"Oh. I see." He twirled me around on the spot, and I spoke up again. "Does he live in Hungary, or...?"

"He lived here. He went back home a few weeks ago." Antal shrugged. "I do not know why. My mother would not tell me or my sister why." I nodded, and we lapsed into silence.

We continued dancing together for most of the night; at around eleven o'clock Elisha and Beth joined us, having left Evan in the care of Gethin, Pete and Matty (all pleasantly drunk) as well as a sober Pascal (she had to drive, which was a blessing because she goes mad when she's drunk).

Antal actually looked a little put out by Elisha and Beth's presence, but I ignored that. Bianka even got up and joined us, not looking so bored anymore.

But then at quarter to twelve, Antal's mother finally got off the phone and wandered over to us, a huge smile on her face.

"Mother, this is Nerys Powell," Antal introduced us, "She is a friend from school. Nerys, this is my mother." Conveniently, he left out Elisha and Beth from the introduction, which irritated me slightly.

"Hello, Mrs Kiss," I said politely, holding out my hand for her to shake. She grasped it.

"Please, call me Ilka," she smiled. She had a very thick Hungarian accent. "Antal has told us much about you."

"He has?" I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes, and he looked embarrassed, and muttered something in Hungarian under his breath. My earlier my earlier irritation at him vanished, and I found myself smiling.

"Oh, yes," she confirmed, looking very happy, but then her face took on a more serious expression. "Excuse us, I must talk to Antal and Bianka."

Looking curious, her two children followed her from the dance floor.

"Weird," Elisha murmured. "I wonder what they're talking about?"

"I don't think he likes us," Beth announced as we began to dance again.

"Don't be silly," I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not being silly, Nerys," she retorted, and then she giggled. "Although, he might just be pissed off at us because we interrupted his 'moment' with you. You two actually looked like a couple, it was kind of cute, even though Pete looked ready to kill him."

I was pleased that she thought we looked like a couple. That meant lots of things.

"Yeah, but she looks cuter with Billie," Elisha argued, doing a weird kind of cancan dance which was attracting a lot of attention.

"You do look cuter with Billie," Beth agreed. "Me and Kerry were talking about it at the disco –"

"Kerry? As in Mully?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah. She's not so bad. Anyway, she was going on about how you look good together because he's dark and you're light. Kind of."

"Yeah, but Billie and I aren't a couple," I reminded them.

"Neither are you and Antal." Beth pulled on my hair, and I glowered at her.

"That, is completely besides the point –"

And then the whole mood in the room changed.

"It's one minute to midnight!" Margaret Kyffin announced over the DJ's microphone, "So everyone get ready!"

Siân appeared out of nowhere, towing Liam along behind her. He had lipstick all over his face and looked kind of dazed. I was glad that Gethin wasn't around; otherwise I think he would have lost his temper.

"Nerys!" Antal bounded over, looking happier than I'd ever seen him look. Behind him I could see Bianka and his mother hugging.

"Yeah?" I looked up at him, and then he enveloped me in a tight bear hug.

"TEN!" Everyone shouted.

"I have news!" Antal shouted.

"NINE!"

I looked up at him, a sudden feeling of dread washing over me.

"EIGHT!"

"Yes?" I prompted warily. He held tightly onto my elbows, his grin gloriously happy.

"SEVEN!"

"My mother was talking to my father, yes?" I nodded, biting my lip.

"SIX!"

"They were having a very big talk," he continued. In my mind, I was shrieking, get on with it!"

"FIVE!"

He looked like he was going to burst. He looked so excited...

"FOUR!"

...It was kind of endearing. But I still felt like...

"THREE!"

...Something bad was about to happen.

"TWO!"

"Nerys, I am going home!"

"ONE!"

All around me, people were shrieking, hugging, kissing, wishing everyone a happy New Year, while Antal and I were in our own little bubble as I stared up at him, feeling slightly sick.

"Home?" I repeated.

"Yes!"

"As in...Back to Hungary, home?"

"Yes, I am going back to Hungary." His eyes were glittering. "That is why my father went home and why my mother was talking to him."

Great night for it, I thought darkly in my head.

"Well, that's..." I didn't know what to say. Good for you, but shit for me because I kind of like you? "Great," I finished lamely.

"I know," he agreed happily, and then he took my face in his hands and kissed me full on the lips before pulling away. It felt nice but it felt wrong as well, and when he pulled away I lightly touched my lips with my fingertips.

"Happy New Year," he said brightly, brushing a hand over my hair before bounding away to his mother and sister.

And then I was being pulled into a group hug involving all my friends and my parents and brothers were there and I didn't really have much time to think about Antal's announcement.

But lying in bed that night, I knew that I didn't have long before Antal would walk out of my life, possibly forever. And I knew I'd really regret it if I didn't tell him if I actually...liked him. Especially as he seemed to – well, potentially – liked me back.

Rolling over, my mind was set. I would tell him that I liked him as soon as possible because – quite honestly – what did I have to lose?

 

 

-END OF PART ONE-