𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 • Neil Perry

Chapter 9

ANOTHER thing Milly's learnt about the tribulations of adolescence in the 1950's is that assholes are all the same. And after countless encounters with Chet Danburry this evening, Milly wasn't sure she wanted to learn any more.

"She doesn't drink, she drives," Chris attempts to remind him.

He waved his glass in Milly's face that was once filled to the brim with liquor. He was at the very least several gulps down by now. "You can have a tiny sip from my cup. I won't tell."

"Are you trying to get her killed?" Chris cries disapprovingly.

"I'm only fooling around."

"Well, you're less funny and more of a fool."

"Only for you," he ringed his arm around her waist, pulling her close to smother his nose in the crook of her neck.

She tried to pry him off, but her grin only told Milly that she didn't want him going anywhere. "Get off, I'm trying to hang out with my friend here."

"No, no," Milly waves off. "Don't mind single me and the dozens of other couples. Go."

Chris' eyes glistened with apology. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Get out of my sight." When Chet pulled away from Chris' neck like a vampire after sucking the blood out of their lifeless victim, Milly forced a disingenuous smile. "Both of you."

"And this is why I love you, Mils," Chet led with his hands out towards the brunette, grabbing ahold of her head to lay a kiss on her temple.

She immediately grimaced at the feeling, earning a small giggle from her blonde friend.

Chet was back to pulling Chris close by throwing an arm around her shoulder, and called out to one of his jock buddies, "Jonathan! This is your opening!"

Not him again, Milly thinks to herself, recalling the bus exchange with a sickly feeling.

"No, it's not," Chris pulls back to get a look at her boyfriend's face to show she was deadly serious. "I told you about the Welton boy, didn't I?"

"Screw Welton weiners."

He's capable of alliteration. Charming.

Finally left alone, Milly decided to be a wallflower for the mean time. She pressed her back against the wall in the living room, enjoying her moment of solitude that naturally lasted no longer than ten seconds.

"Hi," Jonathan greets, glass in hand, letterman jacket on his back. It was like looking at Chet with broader shoulders.

She fiddled with her ear lobe at the thought, immediately hugging herself close instead. "Hi."

"You look good tonight," Jonathan says.

"Between your mother's curtains and the grandma cardigan, what's not to like?" she snorts at her own joke, but from the scrunch of Jonathan's nose, she knew he missed the mark. And instead she goes with a short, cohesive, "Thank you."

"You don't drink at these things?" he asks.

"Or talk apparently," Milly pushed herself off the wall. "If you'll excuse me."

Shoving past him, she manoeuvred her way to the foyer, only to be stopped by a loud call of her name, "Milly!"

And surely enough, Chris was dragging Knox—dressed in a suit and tie—towards her by his elbow.

"Oh, there you are," Chris sighs with a kind of relief. "You're never going to believe who made it. This is Knox Overstreet. Knox, this my girlfriend Milly that I was telling you about."