Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 9

Russel

"-the loo?" Ginny points to the staircase. "First door on the right," she says, "the side of the hallway closest to the yard."

"Thanks," I reply. She nods in response, turning back to her friends. I hurry up the stairs and practically run into a guy in jeans and a blue-plaid shirt. "Sorry," I say. He shakes his head. I look to see where he was going to go, and I say, "You using the loo, too?" He blinks at me. "The loo?" I laugh, "The bathroom."

"Oh. Yea. You can go first, I guess." I shake my head, "No, it's ok, I just needed an excuse out of the grips of Samantha Pickens and her clingers." He laughs, "Yea, they're a vicious bunch." He opens the door of the loo and goes in, closing it behind him. I walk down the hallway farther, exploring. I find an open door at the end of the hallway and walk into it, heading over to the large window facing the front of the house. The mountains put a shadow over the whole valley and I can just barely see the lake, glistening in the moonlight. I whistle at the view and walk out of the room again, closing the door behind me and going back down the stairs. I go into the backyard just in time to see Thomas moving away from Venice, his cell phone pressed to his ear, a worried expression on his face. Perfect time for me to slip in. "So," I say walking up next to her, "how was conversation with the host?" She rolls her eyes, "Riveting."

"Really?"

"Yes. Quite charming, unlike my conversation with you." I laugh, "Oh, really? So what is conversation with me like?"

"Sarcastic. Monotonous. Short-lived." I laugh outright, "You possess a wide vocabulary." My eyes sparkle in delight. She smiles slightly, "You possess the talent to charm." I smile, "Oh really." She nods, "Mhm. But, unfortunately, it's not working on me." I put my hand to my chest, "I'm deeply wounded."

"As you well should be," she replies. She flips her hair dramatically and spins on her heel, walking away from me. I laugh and shake my head.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out and check the caller ID. It's Jameson. "Hey, Jamie, what's up?" Jameson groans at the pet name and says, "Mum's all fussed up, wondering where you're off to."

"I'm at a party."

"Well, that's comforting." I roll my eyes, "It's just a backyard party. Soda, awkward conversation, people leaving fifteen minutes after arriving-you know the drill."

"Whatever, little brother. Mum just wants you home by twelve."

"Thirty."

"Fifteen."

"Forty-five."

"Thirty."

"One AM."

"Twelve forty-five."

"Done," I say, smiling as I once again get my way.

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