Halley's mother glared at her as they walked. It was the same look she always gave her whenever she was doing something she didn't like.
"What?" Halley frowned.
"Why do you look so dull?" replied her mother. "It's supposed to be a party."
"You told me to put a dress on, so I did."
"But that's not a party dress. In fact I remember buying that one for you three years ago for Nana's funeral," she sighed. "I can't believe you still fit in it."
"This is the only dress I have," Halley said back. She crossed her arms. "You should have just chosen one for me then."
"How am I meant to know these things if you don't tell me? You're not a child anymore, you know."
There it was. That stupid line. Everyone she knew had recently been treating her like a fully-fledged adult just because she hit the age of eighteen. Absolutely nothing had changed about her, firstly; secondly, she was still classified as a teenager, meaning she was caught in a "not-a-child-but-not-an-adult" layer of hell. It was even worse than puberty.
"Then why did you make me go tonight?" said Halley, infuriated.
Her mother flicked another glance at her, blonde curls unwavering. "Don't be ridiculous. It's your Uncle's birthday. And besides, we haven't seen any of the family for ages."
"It's not my fault we live so far away," Halley muttered.
"Just be sensible, please," she sighed again.
Halley decided to drop it. The sound of her mother's slender heels clicking on the concrete was the only thing cutting the silence as she walked alongside her parents through the carpark. Her mother was dressed that night extravagantly, like always -- although that wasn't Halley's opinion, it was what her mother seemed to believe. The only effort Halley had put in that evening was sticking a black silk headband through her straight, dark hair -- even then, she let her long fringe run through it anyway.
To her, family gatherings had evolved into just one thing over the years: a giant attempt to outdo the rest of your relatives. Whether it was easier things like money, or how amazing your children were; or boring things like maintaining your garden; everyone was competing. And Halley's mum was the prime example. She remembered one Christmas when she was younger, her mother went around and borrowed silverware from each of the houses in their neighbourhood and set her table with them just to try to show up Halley's Aunt Maria.
She was led past the lobby of the venue building, and past the shabby art deco carpet and cream coloured walls, where they approached a set of double doors on the upper floor. Before they even got close, Halley could hear the thumping party music coming from inside. Her dread for the night to come only got worse.
Inside she could barely hear herself think. Around the room were placed a few round tables, all with black tablecloths and mediocre vase centrepieces on each. Stage lights hung from steel bars on the ceiling that shone purple beams onto every surface.
She was led by her parents through to the centre of the room, where the rest of her relatives were all clumped together like glue. On her way past she'd accidentally caught the eye of a tall, round man with a balding head: her Uncle Geoff. He exited his conversation to greet them.
"Michael! There you all are!" He met them loudly with a wide smile. "I'm so glad you could make it."
Halley's mother leaned in for a superficial hug and Geoff kissed her on the cheek. Her father followed with a hug until they were all finished with their drawn-out greeting. Halley always wondered why no adults ever just said 'hello'.
"Happy birthday," started Halley's Dad. "I know it's been a while but between living so far apart and having heaps going on, we've had almost no chances to visit."
He nodded solemnly. "Everyone in the family's so busy nowadays. I haven't even seen little Halley here in ages, though I guess she's not so little anymore. The last time was at Nana's funeral I believe -- what was that, a few years ago?"
"She hasn't changed much since then," her mother said regretfully. "I'm hoping she'll grow out of this rebellious stage she's in."
"Don't be too hard, I'm sure she's a good kid. She'll come to her senses eventually." Halley despised being the topic of conversation when nobody bothered to at least acknowledge her. She felt her eyebrows sink lower. "So how old are you now, Halley? Seventeen?" Geoff asked.
"Eighteen," interjected Halley's mother before she had a chance to even take a breath.
"Wow. That makes me feel old," he chuckled. "Are you thinking about going to university now?"
University. Another thing Halley detested. It was a twisted concept -- forcing kids through more than a decade of school, only to sign up for more once you were done so that you could eventually earn a sense of financial security. If the purpose was truly learning to do what you wanted to as a career, then why not let you do it sooner? And none of it was as glamorous as everybody made out, she'd come to realise. It worked exactly like high school, just more stuck up.
"I don't know," Halley responded simply, shrugging her shoulders.
"Well, why don't you give it a try?" Geoff responded. "It'd be much better than sitting at home all day. And I can help you choose something."
Choose for her, he meant.
"I'm always telling her that," Halley's mother agreed exasperatedly. "She did so well on her final tests, but all she wants to do is sit around and draw pictures."
Geoff raised his eyebrows. "Really? That's a shame. I've always thought she was very academic. She could easily fit herself into something like law. She just needs to put her mind to it."
Halley gritted her teeth. Her patience had officially run out. She was considering making a dash for the exits when her mother spoke again.
"Yes, me too," she nodded in agreement. "Anyways, I think we'll go talk around and maybe find some food. Come on, Micheal." She beckoned at her Dad, waving her slender hand in the air.
He smiled meekly. "It was nice seeing you, Geoff."
"Good to see you all." Geoff patted her dad's back as the two of them split off from her Uncle, and Halley saw the opportunity to escape in the opposite direction towards the food platters.
Halley let out a groan. If the first five minutes of the party were this excruciating, then how would she be able to stand the rest of the night?
At the table she examined the spread of food-filled plates, tossing up between plates of unappetising frankfurts, crackers and blue cheese. She settled for the warm sausage and threw it in her mouth, chewing in dissent.
Several wine bottles were placed around the rectangular table, probably doubling as decoration. Halley was able to legally drink now, and so they looked tempting given the circumstances, only she hated wine. On the night of her birthday, her mother let Halley have a sip from her own glass. Not sure of how much to take, as well as falling short in judging just how powerful the stuff was, Halley had taken a large swig that she almost immediately regurgitated back into the cup. Her mother decided she didn't want it anymore and it sat on the bench for the rest of the night. Alcohol was nothing exciting, anyway.
She decided to try and steer her focus toward something else. Anything else. What was she going to do when she got home? Most likely fall asleep. Did she have anything exciting planned for the week? Absolutely not.
The failed attempt to find refuge in her own mind didn't put her at ease, but despite the loud music playing overhead, Halley felt more at peace already. She was alone, and the food could be a lot worse. She stared aimlessly at the middle of the room and observed her family, drifting off into idle thought.
