Have sex.
Seren’s eyes are wide in the mirror. She isn’t going to have sex. She doesn’t want to – not yet. But she knows she could. She knows she’s reached that age where she has power over men, and the feeling is intoxicating.
Wear the dress.
She’s wearing it. It has long sleeves and a neck so high the dress appears boring – chaste, even – until you see how short it is. If the fabric were loose it would be impossible to wear without showing her knickers, but it clings to her bum like a swimsuit, skimming her buttocks and coming to a stop just above her thigh gap. It is an amazing dress, and Seren is a queen in it.
‘You look lovely,’ Elen says. She takes in the black leggings Seren is currently wearing between her Doc Marten boots and her dress. The boots will stay on; the leggings will not. ‘Although I wish you wouldn’t wear so much make-up.’
Seren has not yet put on the blood-red lipstick she bought especially for tonight.
‘Have fun with Efa and Sian.’
Seren’s heart is thumping as she gives Elen a hug and says Blwyddyn Newydd Dda, because Mam will be at Angharad’s at midnight, where there’s no reception. Mam made Seren promise not to go to The Shore. She says she’s heard there’s a bunch of idiots planning to crash the party, and she’s worried there’ll be trouble, but Seren knows that’s not the problem. Angharad let slip to Elen that Seren’s been hanging out with Caleb, and she must know about his police record because Mam’s been funny about it ever since.
‘He’s a city lad,’ she said to Seren. ‘He’s a bad influence.’
If only she knew. Elen and Ffion have no idea that Seren hasn’t seen Efa and Sian outside school for months; that her pocket money comes, not from babysitting, but from helping Rhys with his fan mail.
Eventually, Mam will find out that Seren went to the party. She might even hear it tonight, through her network of spies, the way she found out that time Seren bunked off school to go shopping in Wrexham. Seren will deal with that if it happens; for now, she’s living in the moment.
She’s at the lake when she sees Huw, a smart shirt poking out from beneath his coat. He takes in her outfit. ‘Off to the party? Me too.’
‘You’re shitting me.’ Everyone in the village knows Huw’s raging with The Shore over money they owe him.
‘Does your mam know you talk like that?’ Huw spins a key in the air, catching it with the same hand. ‘Come on, I’ll give you a lift.’
Huw’s boat is fast and powerful, leaping across the surface of the lake. Seren ducks behind the shelter of the curved windscreen, the hood of her coat pulled up to protect her hair.
‘Caleb, is it?’ Huw shouts.
Seren shrugs. Points to her ear and pretends she can’t hear him. Wind whips at their faces.
‘—with Rhys, I hear.’
Seren reddens. What did Huw say? But then she catches something about working and bloody fan mail, and she breathes out.
‘Saving for uni,’ she shouts back.
They’re within spitting distance of The Shore now, and he pushes in the throttle so the engine’s just turning over. The sudden silence is almost painful. ‘You want to be careful around that man,’ Huw says. He hands her the painter and she stands on the edge of the boat, one hand on the windscreen. Glad of the excuse to look away. ‘He’ll fuck you over soon as look at you, that one.’
As soon as they’re close enough, Seren jumps lightly on to the pontoon and ties up the boat. ‘Thanks for the lift!’ she says, running to the ladder and leaving Huw behind.
A string of lights surrounds the deck outside the Charltons’ lodge, the windows of the marquee already steamed up. Inside, the sliding doors to the lodge are open. Seren steps inside, suddenly shy, and looks around to see who’s there. The room’s full and noisy, cheesy music pumping from the speakers in the wall. Old Mrs Huxley is sitting on the sofa with Caleb’s mum, Clemmie, and two women from the village. The Staffords are here, laughing at something Blythe’s saying. Yasmin’s over there, talking to Mia, but there’s no sign of Rhys, and Seren feels suddenly anxious; overdressed and out of place. Some of the women are in posh dresses, and a few of the men are in dinner jackets, but most people are dressed as if they’re going to the pub.
‘Hey.’
Seren feels a hand on her shoulder. She spins around, but her face falls when she sees who it is.
‘You look good.’ Caleb looks her up and down. ‘You look fucking amazing, actually. Listen, I was going to say this anyway, it’s not because you look – I mean, you really do look great—’