18 ✓

SEVEN

I need you.

"You look beautiful," Charlie's voice whispered into my ear, his hand placed on the small of my back as we walked inside. "Are you alright?"

I snapped my head to him, forcing a smile. "Yeah, sorry, I'm just nervous. My parents can be a little intense sometimes."

"Well, don't worry, parents love me."

I silently prayed his words held true tonight. As much as I loved my parents, they were two highly opinionated people. And voicing their strong opinions was something that they failed at keeping in. The fear festering inside was not only caused by my parents, although I wished it was.

I need you.

His words echoed loudly in my head, no matter how many times I tried to make them stop. After that night, I spent the following week testing my skill of avoidance. It was childish, as Abby pointed out countlessly, but it was all I could manage. There was one thing I knew was my only option to get over Hunter's words: forget them. And so I did. Well, and so I attempted to.

I need you.

My mind drifted from the panic setting in as the two of us entered the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers dangled from the vaulted ceiling, illuminating the gold detailing on the wall. Large rounded tables surrounded the perimeter of a dance floor, which had been polished so clearly it resembled a sheet of ice. The long red satin slip dress I had found in the back of my closet instantly made me feel plain compared to the women who walked past, dressed in flowing elegant gowns and dripped in diamonds. Charlie, on the other hand, looked more dapper than any other man in sight, dressed in a perfectly fitted black tux and a white dress shirt.

I need you.

"Champagne?" A waiter gestured to the tray in his arms.

"Oh yes," I muttered under my breath, taking a glass from the tray.

I lifted the glass to my lips, draining all the liquid in one gulp. My eyes fell back to the waiter, who appeared to struggle whether he was impressed or appalled by my action, as I replaced my empty glass with a full one.

"You sure you're alright?" Charlie asked as he guided me away from the waiter.

I looked up at him. "Yeah, just thirsty."

"Oh, Dylan, there you are!" The shrill sound of my mother's voice sent a chill down my spine. "I was beginning to think you would not show tonight."

"Hi, mother." Another forced smile made its way onto my lips.

"Darling, what have you done with your hair?" The sweetest in her tone barely masked what she truly meant. "You should have worn it up tonight."

I could feel her eyes glancing over my outfit, her expression unable to hide her apparent disappointment. Whenever I looked at her, however, I was reminded of my sister. Her chestnut brown hair was in a perfectly wound bun, her full lips were coloured with a shade of red, a necklace of diamonds hung around her neck. I wondered if this was how my sister would look years from now. Delilah had always been the spitting image of her.