The party was a blast. From the bottom of my heart, I have to say it was going amazing. I was surprised in every possible way, especially when those horrible Miller twins gave me a rib-crushing hug and kisses on the cheek, telling me that I looked absolutely beautiful in my dress and that they were happy to see me ‘out of my shell’. I’d managed a crooked smile while Lea elbowed me at the same time, as if to prove her point to say ‘I told you it wouldn’t be so bad’.
I went around greeting everyone in the family and tried not to get disheartened by the fact that, yes, Lea wasn’t just joking about the date thing. Almost every teenager in our family had showed up with a wondrous escort by their side. Everyone, apart from me.
Though I felt like I fit right into the Storm family for the first time in...well, for the first time ever, I felt strangely alone among the crowded ball room (yes, we have a ball room). After making an effort to meet everyone without a sullen face, and introduce myself properly as Mr. Storm’s daughter, I’d retired to the bar near the corner of the dance hall. Sporting a martini in hand (which I’d had to convince the bartender to give me considering how very young I apparently looked), I took long yet slow sips, surveying the crowd. Only five minutes had passed after which the loudest, and most difficult of Storm’s bounced over to me.
“Oi Roxie, what are you doing here?”
One arm wrapped tightly around Jet’s, and the other reaching towards me with concern, Lea gave me a rather evil looking grin before patting my head and plopping down on the stool next to me.
“Yo Jet,” I muttered, and then sighed heavily.
“I’ll have whatever she’s having,” Lea said over her shoulder at the bartender who was eyeing the three of us rather suspiciously.
“I will need some proof of age, miss. It’s for security measures.” He repeated the exact same thing that he’d said to me to Lea, but of course, Lea was not one for civilized answers - not even when she was sober.
“Security measures, eh?” She spun around on the bar-stool, eyes narrowing. “Well the only one who’s going to have to watch his back from the four of us is you mister - what’s that name tag say, oh! Mister O’Donnell.”
I put my drink down on the surface and glanced at Jet who was burying his face in his hands, eyes peeking at the scene. “Your girl is quite a catch,” I mouthed to him and his lips lifted into a smirk before we tuned in again on the battle.
“Because let me tell you something chump, my dad owns this party. That means I own your drinks-serving ass. So if you don’t give me a drink, trust me when I say I have nothing in my way to stop me from reducing you to ashes. Got it O’Donnell?”