Score: Whatcha Say - Jason Derulo

Lydia

I walk into the flat and aim to go straight to my room, but my dad makes an appearance in the hall.

"So, you've made it for dinner," he says and my wonderful mood instantly evaporates.

Great. The stupid dinner.

"I've eaten," I say simply, but he doesn't give up.

"But Celia has prepared something special for you."

"Thanks, but I am not interested."

"We are all having dinner tonight. Feel free to go change into something more...appropriate," he says and with that, I know I have no choice.

I look down at my jeans and T-shirt. I don't understand what's wrong with my clothes. Am I expected to put on a fucking gown for a family dinner?

I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation, but head for my room anyway.

There's no point in arguing.

I only slept five hours last night, and have had an...interesting day so far, and the only thing that I want to do is just lie in bed and watch a movie, but no-oh, I have to make an appearance for this family dinner tonight.

We haven't had dinner, all together, since Christmas, and that was a fucking fiasco, but, apparently, Celia is very fond of throwing dinner parties that end with everyone either drunk or crying.

I change into the first dress that crosses my path in the closet and storm out of my room.

I fling the door to the dining room open and suppress the impulse to vomit at what I see.

It is like a baby shower has thrown up in the dining room.

There are pink and gold balloons everywhere, there is a huge pink cake on the console table, there is a Congratulations, Lydia banner, hanging from the ceiling, and the centerpiece of the table is a tiered tray full of pink macaroons and cupcakes.

For the record, I hate pink. And I am pretty sure Celia is well aware of the fact.

And then I notice the people.

My father and Celia are standing by the wall, champagne glasses in hand. My brother is nowhere to be seen, which pisses me off, as he doesn't get to stay for the stupid dinner.

Yet, John has always been Colin's favourite.

And, standing by the bay window, hands in his pockets, eyes locked straight in front of him...

Patrick. And, right next to him, his parents.

You have got to be kidding me!

My stomach drops a few inches, when I see them.

At the same time, it seems that everybody notices that I have entered the room. Celia throws her hands in the air and shouts:

"Surprise!"

Everyone's eyes are fixed on me, as I am standing in the doorway. I smile nervously and walk in.

"It was so nice of Celia to call us and invite us to your dinner party. We didn't have a clue you were planning to have a celebratory leaving-school dinner tonight!" Theodora, Patrick's mother chirps joyfully.

Of course, Celia invited them!

I take a glass of champagne from the table and force a smile.

"It must've slipped my mind." My champagne is taking painfully long to reach my bloodstream. "Yeah, you know me, always up for a little fun."

"Well, congratulations, dear, to both of you." She pulls her son by the sleeve and drags him to stand next to me.

"Lyds, Patrick told me you weren't at the match this morning," my dad says from across the room.

Thanks, Dad!

"Yeah, well, I was indisposed."

"Actually, Patrick called me this morning to ask how you were. He was really worried. He said he couldn't reach you since he left Gloria's last night, and your phone was off. I thought you were supposed to spend the night together?"

"Dad, can we not discuss this right now?" I say through gritted teeth. I can tell he is drunk. It is nearly seven in the evening, on a weekend, so he probably has been drunk for a few hours.

"No, I want to know if you are OK and where were you in the morning. Celia told me she saw you leave, and that you looked just fine."

To my surprise, Patrick throws his arm over my shoulder and comes to my rescue.

"It's alright, Colin. Lydia went to see an old friend for coffee. We already talked about it."

Good. That's the least you can do for snitching me to my father.

"Couldn't this friendly visit have waited until after the match, Lyds?" My father, who has now moved on to scotch, asks me, as he takes a hearty gulp from his glass.

I hate him even more when he is drunk.

"It isn't a big deal, Colin. It was a good game, we won, Lydia had a good time with Mark..."

"Mark? Mark Carter?" My father's brows shoot up.

"Yes, Mark Carter," I snarl.

"I didn't know he was back. How is he? Is Kate back, as well?"

"No, he's come alone. He's fine, his dad is getting remarried," Patrick says in a matter-of-factly tone. I elbow him and mouth "Patrick!" At him.

He looks down at me, with a questioning look, though I am sure he knows what I mean. I don't like gossip, however, it seems that networking has become mainly about gossip these days.

I put my finger to my lips to show him I would like him not to discuss Mark's family anymore.

"Is he, now?" Colin refills his glass from the decanter of expensive scotch on the table in front of him and looks around the dining room with a bitter smile. "Everyone seems to be in the mood to tie the knot these days," he says.

Oh, God, no...

"Yet, in the face of true love, what else do we have to do?" I see Celia turning bright red. I know she is furious. My dad would never marry her, yet here he is, talking about true love and other people's wedding plans.

He waves his hand to where Patrick and I are standing.

"You two are so lucky to have found each other so early in life," he says and his eyes begin to water, though I am sure it is from the whisky, rather than from sentimental feelings. "You'll make us," and he makes a wide motion with his arm, gesturing towards Patrick's parents, "very happy, and proud when you decide to get married."

Here we go.

"Now, Colin, don't embarrass the children," Theodora laughs and looks at her husband for support.

"I am just saying. It is obviously meant to be. They are such a lovely couple, and they are both so bright and ambitious, it is only natural for them to want to spend the rest of their lives with a fitting match." His smile could oil a fairly large boat.

I chug the rest of my champagne and reach out for another glass. I am hot and out of breath and my brunch is threatening to make an unwelcome reappearance at my dad's performance.

"I agree," my stomach swoons, as Simon, pardon, Lord Casterly, chimes in. "And I told Patrick that he should just get it over with."

God, I shouldn't have put on a white dress. My bright-red face must be in stark contrast to the pristine colour of the delicate, lacy Dolce&Gabbana piece I am wearing.

"I told him to give Lydia Theo's engagement ring," he says and takes his wife's hand in his large paw. "It is a family antique. Been passed on for generations. My mother gave it to me when I announced my intentions to marry Theo. My father proposed to my mother with this ring, and before that, his father proposed to my grandmother, and so on..."

The large sapphire on Theodora's hand captures the light from the chandelier and throws a myriad of sparks in the air. It is surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds, embedded in a thick gold band.

With the corner of my eye, I catch Celia staring at the ring, her face pulled in a grimace of absolute awe.

"Every Lady Casterly for the past one hundred and fifty years has worn this ring. It is only natural for the future Lady Casterly..." Simon lifts his glass in the air for a toast and winks his eye at me, "To have it."

A shudder passes through my body at the mention of the title and the name, bound to it, in relation to me. Patrick mistakenly interprets it as a shiver of cold and pulls me closer in his embrace. I pull away slightly.

"Oh, come on, Simon, you know how kids these days are. Lydia is a free-spirited young lady. It's probably not to her taste to be wearing this...antique...on her delicate hand." Theodora's words basically read: "This ring is way too classy and valuable for that nouveau-riche princess."

"Perhaps she'd like something more...modern," she squints her eyes and waves her hand at the interior of the dining room. It is by no means interior design magazine material, but it is nicely decorated. My mother bought all of the art and a fair bit of the furniture, and I actually think it is nice and cozy when it doesn't look like the movie set for My Little Pony.

"I am sorry our trip to Cartier wasn't that bountiful, dear," Theodora goes on, with the fakest expression of remorse on her face. "We'll just have to keep on looking till we find The One, right? We can try Harry Winston next."

...Aaaand now we are discussing engagement ring shopping with Patrick's mother.

Please, kill me, now!

"Please, Mother, you are embarrassing Lydia," Patrick says and I thankfully squeeze his hand.

God, I didn't even know someone can turn this shade of red.

"OK, enough of this, let's eat," my father says and, for the first time tonight, I am grateful that he opens his mouth.

Dinner goes on a lot less eventful, for which I am grateful. Patrick and I sit together on one side of the table, his parents and Celia are seated opposite us and my dad is at the head of the table.

Just when I thought the worst was over, at least, for me, the conversation steers towards the annual summer sailing trip.

Dammit, I haven't spoken to Patrick about it. I haven't told him that I'm not going yet.

"...and pass by Sardinia," Simon says and proudly looks at Patrick. "I have been looking forward to going to Italy ever since I got that bloody boat, but I couldn't do it alone. Now, Patrick is experienced enough to make the most of the journey himself. I am too old for this stuff." He pops a potato in his mouth. "We are leaving the Monday after the kids' Leavers' Ball. This way, we should be back in time for them to pack and get ready for Uni."

Maybe, if I stay really quiet and just stare at my food, nobody would talk to me at all.

"And we can go shopping in Italy, right, Lydia?"

Damnit!

"Mmmhh?" I say, pretending I wasn't listening.

"Are you OK, dear?" Theodora asks me, her eyebrows pulling in with concern. "You have been awfully quiet tonight."

"Yes, I'm fine," I say. "Just tired." OK, here we go. Like ripping a Band-Aid. "Actually, I was planning to talk to you soon about this, babe." I turn to Patrick and squeeze his hand lightly. "I'm not coming this year."

"What?" Patrick, Theodora, and Colin exclaim at the same time.

"Yeah, it is the last summer before Uni and...and I was thinking I'd stay and get ready, you know...pack, go shopping, go to Edinburgh to check in the dorms early. This kind of stuff." I try to keep my tone as neutral as possible like this is not a big deal.

It really shouldn't be.

"But, Lyds, this is going to be the longest one so far, and, and this is going to be our last summer before we both leave. I wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. After we leave, we won't be seeing each other that much, until Christmas."

"I know, babe. Can we maybe talk about this later? I am really tired tonight."

"I really don't see what's there to discuss, Lydia" Colin interferes and I suppress an impulse to splash my water in his face. "The reasonable thing would be to go. Go have fun and we can arrange your moving to Edinburgh when you come back." He takes another sip from his glass and looks straight into my eyes, before adding: "That is, if you manage to get the grades you need on your A-Levels, of course."

Silence falls in the room like a thick blanket. Even the noises that are coming from the street outside, through the open window, are weirdly muffled. A car door slams shut on the street and the sound keeps echoing in my brain long after the car has driven away.

My biggest fear is that, for some reason, I won't be able to get the grades I need to get into The University of Edinburgh. This would mean I'd need to stay in London for at least one more year, which is not an option.

Colin knows that. That's why he said that. He purposefully wanted to hurt me.

I jump to my feet and throw my napkin on the table.

"I said I was not going," I say. My entire body's shaking. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have lost my appetite."

And I walk out of the dining room.

Once in the hallway, I lean against the wall and gasp for air.

Today has been far too long and far too exhausting for me to have the energy to stay at that table even a minute longer. I take a few deep breaths and I walk straight to my room.

I don't turn the light on, even though the sun is setting outside. I sit on my bed and reach for my laptop. I am in the mood for a long, depressing Spotify playlist.

There's a light knock on my door and Patrick opens it slightly. I sigh but invite him in anyway.

This day will never end, will it?

"Hey."

"Hey..."

"I am sorry about my mum and dad. That was very inappropriate."

"No, that's fine. If anyone was acting inappropriately, that was Colin."

"Yeah, he was being a jerk. And, he is drunk."

"He's always drunk."

"I am sorry, anyway, my mum shouldn't have brought up all the engagement ring shit earlier. I don't want you to feel pressured into anything, Lyds. I love you."

"It's OK, really," I look into his eyes and suddenly feel like I am about to cry.

I haven't shed a tear in two years.

What is going on with me?

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't coming to the sailing trip?"

"I have been meaning to tell you, babe, really, but there's been so much going on recently..."

"I know..."

"Can we please talk about it tomorrow? I am really tired..."

"Yeah," He sits on the bed next to me and turns so that he is facing me. "We have a lot to talk about, Lyds."

"I know," my voice is merely a whisper. "I know."

"I am sorry I haven't been there for you lately."

"It's not just you," I turn to meet his gaze. "I've been really distracted, as well."

He reaches with his hand and cups my cheek. His hand is cold and soft against my skin. He caresses my bottom lip with his thumb. His eyes move away from mine and lock on my lips as he leans in to kiss me.

The kiss begins soft and slow but turns more passionate as he draws closer to me on the bed. His hand, which is not on my face, moves to my waist and he pulls me in so tightly, that our bodies are pressing against each other. His hand moves from my waist to my hips and he gently pulls me into his lap.

"Babe,..." I say, but he silences my protest with another kiss. "Babe, our parents are here..."

"So?" He says, his hands moving up my thighs under my dress. "They are not idiots. Besides, we are only kissing..." As he says that, his hand reaches my ass under the dress and squeezes, hard. "C'mon, they were discussing our engagement an hour ago," his teeth graze my jaw. "Soon, they'd be teasing us about the future little lords and ladies Casterly..."

As he says that, I pull away from his kiss and squeeze his shoulders. "Babe, no. Don't say that! Not even as a joke! We are wayyy too young for this."

"I know," he laughs, leaning forward to kiss me again. "I'm just teasing you." His hand tugs at the elastic of my panties under my dress.

"Patrick..."

"What? Can't I make out with my girlfriend?" His hands are now raking all over my body, while he kisses my cheeks, my chin, my eyes..."It's been so long, Lyds..." he says gently in my ear. "Too long..." His hand stops at my breast and he cups it through my dress.

His movements are getting bolder and he is breathing heavily against my neck. I know where this is going. I can feel him getting hard against my thigh. I know that the fact that our parents are here is not an excuse not to have sex with him. We have been sleeping together for the past two years. We've had sex with his parents right across the hall in his house. We've had sex in my bathroom with my brother's bathroom just across a thin wall.

Yet, I feel just...not right about it. I am tired and just the notion that the flat is full of people makes me feel unsettled.

"Babe..." I pull away from him slightly and sit still in his lap, looking into his eyes. "Can we not? Please?"

Patrick loosens his embrace and frowns. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I sigh and push his hair away from his forehead.

A flashback of Mark, leaning over me last night in the car and the loose strand of hair on his forehead, and how I'd wanted to push it away from his face, comes uninvited into my brain.

I yank my hand away and Patrick looks at me, his frown deepening.

"You can tell me."

"It's just...Nothing. My period's due any day now and am super uncomfortable and crampy." Technically, it is not a lie. I am super hormonal and bloated, but this is not the reason why I don't want to have sex with Patrick. I just...don't feel like it.

He tightens his hug around my waist and nuzzles in the crook of my neck.

"It's OK, baby." He says in my hair. "We don't have to."

We end up watching a movie and I fall asleep halfway through the latest Marvel installment.

I wake up a few hours later and see that I am neatly tugged in, still in my dress. Patrick is asleep next to me. He is wearing boxers and one of the T-shirts Celia bought for him for when he stays over, and he looks so peaceful, sleeping next to me.

I check my phone and see that it is 1:30 am. Patrick's parents must have left long ago and he must have decided to stay the night.

I sneak out of bed to change into my PJs and brush my teeth. Then I climb back into bed next to him and stare at the ceiling, wide awake, until the night begins to change.

*************************************

You, Guys! Never Summer Again has already 100 reads! I know this is probably not a big deal, but it is such a big deal to me! 100 people have seen Lydia and Mark's story! I am so excited for what is yet to come!

Please, let me know what you think! ANY feedback is welcome!

THANK YOU! YOU ARE AMAZING!