I turned back to Julia when she was out of sight and leaned against the counter once again. She eyed me curiously, taking a long sip of her drink. “Not her lapdog, no?”

“What? I—no—no—no! Connie is my friend. Best friend.”

“She might as well have pissed all over you there to mark her territory. Open your eyes, Alex.”

“She’s a bit protective, is all. I don’t make new friends very often.”

“And why not?” Julia raised an eyebrow. “You’re very sweet.”

“I—you think I’m sweet?”

“Of course. And funny. You’re the nicest person I’ve met here. And I don’t just mean this party. I mean Halford—Dublin, even—in general.”

I blushed, averting my eyes. “Well, you obviously just haven’t met the right people—”

“Take the compliment, Alex. Before I take it back.” She looked down into her drink. “If you hadn’t come up to me in there I’d have been left standing like an idiot.”

“Are none of your friends here?”

She shook her head. “I don’t really have any. Any left, that is. I’m sure you heard about what happened to me.”

“Even if I had I don’t pay much heed to rumors and gossip. But I haven’t. All I know about you is you play hockey with Holy Faith and you’re sorta acquaintances with Connie and you don’t like going to parties. And you’ve got a cool lip piercing.”

Julia chuckled, leaning back against the counter. She lifted her eyes. “I got outed a while back. I told a girl I thought was my friend that I was—you know—gay, and she told everyone else. I’m over it now, really. I mean—school is still pretty shit but I’ve stopped caring. The girls I go to school with…They’re not my friends. I just keep my head down and go on with my life. My biggest problem is probably Aidan. He’s a right dick about it, will always publicly deny being related to me. I’d put money on the fact that our parents conspired together to force him to invite me tonight.”

“That’s um. That’s commendable. That you don’t care.” I averted my eyes and swallowed. “I uh—I should tell you. That I don’t care. That you are um…well, you know.”

“Yeah,” she said, toying with the cup in her hands. Her gaze narrowed knowingly. “I figured as much.”

We stood there for most of the night, leaning against the counter in the kitchen as she told me of school in Holy Faith and I told her of my life as the right—hand man of Connie O’Reilly. Eventually, she took my wrist and led me to the makeshift dancefloor Aidan had set up and despite my protestations we danced together to songs I hated, her lithe body pressed up against mine in the crowded room, both of us giggling as if in on some barely concealed secret. I could have stayed there all night with my hands very lightly holding onto her waist, shy and unsure, each movement she made forcing my already untethered heart to speed up. I had never danced like that before, with anyone. I never danced at parties—not when I had no one to dance with.