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Friday 9am
Jon slides into his seat just before the bell rings, and sees Robb craning his neck to look at him. Jon gives him two thumbs up.
"Something you're happy about, Snow?" Mr Thorne's voice cuts into Robb's answering grin. Jon looks up.
"Nothing, sir," he says. "Just glad I wasn't late."
In the seat beside him, Sam shifts. Jon studiously doesn't look at him. Mr Thorne glares at them both, but starts the lesson.
He doesn't dare try and whisper to Sam until they're out of the classroom, on their way to English. He keeps his voice low, everyone rushing past them like a sea, whacking into each other with their bags. "Party, my house," Jon says. "Tonight. Don't tell too many people."
Grenn and Pyp hear, behind them. "Not a word," Grenn says, tapping his nose.
"A hundred is too many people," Pyp says.
"You don't know I was thinking of a hundred," Grenn protests. "What about fifty?"
"No, Grenn," Jon says, a bit too sharp. "I don't want to be cleaning for the rest of the week. Dad and Catelyn left me and Robb in charge."
"You take yourself too seriously," Edd says.
"I take my responsibilities seriously," Jon protests. "I mean it, don't tell too many people."
"I won't," Sam pipes up. Jon smiles at him.
"See? Sam's on my side," he says.
"Sam's always on your side," Edd mutters. They reach the English room before Jon can say anything back.
Friday 12.30pm
"Party," Sam whispers on his way past Loras.
He's gone before Loras can ask where, so he texts it instead. He watches Sam find his seat next to his mates, take his phone out, and type. Loras's phone beeps. Jon's house. 2nite. Keep it 2 urself.
I'll b there, Loras types, adds, ok 2 bring my bf? and a smiley face emoji, and hits send.
Sam texts back Y and a smiley. Loras looks up from his phone.
Mya cocks her head. "Something up?"
"Party tonight," Loras mutters. "I don't think he'd mind me telling you. Anyway, I'm taking Renly."
"I'm in. Just make sure you're in another room from me when you starting snogging everywhere, I'm still emotionally scarred from the last time." Mya shudders.
"You know me," Loras grins, "you've only made me want to kiss him in front of you more. Tell him, he'll keep me in line." He bites his lip, thinking of the excellent use Renly found for his school tie the other day. Mya covers her face with her hands.
"Why did my best friend have to turn out to be an uncle-fucker?" she moans.
"Because your uncle is only three years older than us and hot like the sun. No, hot like a supernova."
"Stop it. I'm trying to eat."
Friday 2.20pm
"I was, um," Robb says, pretending to concentrate on packing away the Bunsen burner, "there's this party, tonight. At my house. And um, I was wondering if you wanted to go? With me."
Jeyne looks down at her textbook. "Yeah, I — I'd like that." She looks up, smiling at him, and Robb holds onto the desk to stay steady.
"Great," he says. "Great. Er, it'll start around eight, and um. Here, I can give you my address —" He tears off a piece of paper from his nearest notebook. "And um, here's my phone number," he writes it under the address, "and my email. In case you have to cancel or something."
She's blushing by the time he hands her the paper. "Thanks," she says.
"Mr Stark, Miss Westerling," Mr Mormont calls. "Your equipment. Pack it up. Faster."
"Yes, Mr Mormont," Robb mutters, and goes back to packing away the test tubes while Jeyne pours the results of their experiment down the sink. Robb can't stop smiling.
He meets Jon on the way to French. "Well?" Jon's grinning.
"She said yes."
Jon claps him on the shoulder, a gesture that seems like it would be a hug if they weren't being jostled from all sides. "Good on you. About time you stopped moping around and asked her out."
"And when are you going to stop moping and ask," Robb lowers his voice, "you-know-who out?"
Jon glances around. "Shh. How can I? What would — you-know-who say? What would you-know-who's dad say?"
"You don't have to tell his dad," Robb says.
"Keep your voice down," Jon whispers urgently.
"People aren't going to come after you with clubs, Jon," Robb says. "It's all right."
Jon opens his mouth to say something, but they're swept into the French classroom by the press of people, and Jon just sits in his usual seat next to Pyp and says nothing.
Friday 6pm
"So what do you think," Dany says, holding the dress up to herself and looking nervously at Jhiqui.
"It looks good," Jhiqui says, wrinkling her nose in thought, "but it'd look better if it were a darker purple. You look really good in dark colours, it brings out your hair."
Doreah nods. "Try this one," she says, handing Dany a wine red dress.
Dany holds it against herself. "It's much too short," she says.
"It'll look good," Doreah insists. "You've got great legs, Dany. You should show them off sometimes."
"I can't," Dany protests. "What would Viserys say?"
"Ugh," Doreah rolls her eyes. "Your brother is an abusive liar who'd say whatever it took to keep you knocked down. Remember what we taught you?"
Dany sighs. "Viserys is wrong," she repeats the mantra they'd come up with for her. "I'm not nothing. I'm awesome and he can suck it."
Doreah hugs her. "That's my girl."
Irri gets there just as Dany is trying on the dress. "Dany," she says as she walks in, eyes wide, "you look amazing."
"Told you," Doreah grins, as Jhiqui jumps up to hug Irri.
"We should do your makeup," Jhiqui says, arm still around Irri, leading her over to the full-length mirror Dany is standing in front of.
She's staring at her reflection. Doreah steps up behind her and puts her arms around her waist, resting her chin on Dany's shoulder. "What's up?"
"I haven't shaved," Dany says. She feels sort of embarrassed, and tries not to let it show in her voice. It comes out sounding small and sad.
"I brought my home waxing kit," Doreah says.
"Oh, I don't know." Doreah nuzzles against her hair. "Does it hurt much?"
"Only for a minute," Doreah says.
Dany catches Irri and Jhiqui giving each other significant looks as they unpack Irri's sleepover bag. Blushing, she tries to ignore the hammering of her heart.
"Do you trust me?" Doreah says, voice soft.
Dany looks at her in the mirror. "Yes," she says.
"I won't hurt you." There's a quiet sincerity in her eyes. Someone behind them makes a small annoyed noise, but Dany doesn't say anything.
Friday 7pm
"But why can't I come to the party?" Bran whines.
"It's a grown-up party," Arya says, nose wrinkled in distaste. "People will be kissing everywhere, and drinking. It sounds boring."
"Good to know at least you won't get in trouble," Robb says, ruffling her hair. "Sansa, you okay with looking after these three?"
Sansa looks up from trying to stop Rickon mashing his peas into his already gravy-soaked mashed potato. "You can count on me." Thirteen years old and such a Stark, Robb thinks, already being responsible. They get it from their dad, he knows. That's why Jon's so much a Stark too.
"But everyone will be having fun," Bran says, glaring at the remains of his pork pie.
"We can have more fun without them," Arya insists. "Sansa will let us play lightsabers, won't you, Sansa?" She says it like a challenge.
"Behave," Jon whispers to her, but he says it so fondly Robb knows it'll have no effect.
Sansa looks at Arya regally. "If you don't break anything," she says, and Arya sticks her tongue out at her.
"See?" she says, turning back to Bran. "We'll have a better time than any of them."
"Okay," Bran says, in the voice he uses when he's trying to be more enthusiastic than he actually is. Robb makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight.
Friday 8pm
"Irri, come on," Dany calls to the bathroom door. "The taxi'll be here soon."
"In a minute," Irri says.
"I'll wait for her," Jhiqui says. "You go downstairs, look out for cars. We'll be down soon."
Doreah takes Dany's hand when they're almost at the bottom of the stairs. Dany hopes she won't feel her pulse jump, or if she does, write it off as nerves about the party. About facing her brother.
Elia is in the kitchen when they get there. "You look nice," she says, to both of them.
"Thanks." Dany adjusts her skirt. She feels exposed, her legs still smarting a bit from the waxing, but her tights feel really good against her skin.
Viserys walks into the kitchen. His eyes crawl over Dany's body and Doreah's. He meets Dany's eyes and says, "You look like a whore."
Fuck you, Dany thinks, startling herself. Doreah squeezes her hand.
"Viserys," Elia says, voice sharp. "Enough. Take this in to Rhaegar."
"Don't command me," he snaps. "I am —"
"Descended from royalty, the blood of the noble house Targaryen, I know. So is my son." Elia hands him a plate. "Take this. To your brother."
Dany tries not to smile as Viserys fumes past her. Doreah doesn't even try very hard to hide her laughter, stifling it in Dany's shoulder. Her breath is warm on Dany's skin.
There's a beep from outside. "That'll be the taxi," Doreah says. "Jhiqui! Irri!" she calls up the stairs.
"Just coming," Irri says, racing down the stairs with Jhiqui right behind her.
"Have a good time, and don't be loud getting back," Elia says.
Dany sticks her head round the living room door to say goodbye to Rhaegar. Viserys is crumpled in an armchair, arms folded, face like thunder. Rhaegar is ignoring him, and waves cheerfully to Dany. "See you later," he says.
"And whose bed are you going to end up in tonight?" Viserys sneers. "Dressed like that, I doubt you'll make it home."
"Shut up," Dany says, and grabs Doreah's hand to run out of the front door.
Friday 8.20pm
"How do I look?" Margaery twirls. The skirts of her green, float-y dress pick up and swirl around her.
"Lovely," Loras says. "How could she resist?"
"This is my last chance," Margaery says, turning back to the mirror to check her lip gloss for the twentieth time. "It's now or never."
"Why, is she moving away or something?" Loras picks up one of Margaery's stuffed animals, the few she's kept by her bed in her frantic rush to grow up.
"No. But I don't know how many more times I can throw myself at her before it's pathetic." She flicks at her hair. She only does that when she's really nervous.
Loras says, "I think you passed pathetic about a year ago," and she throws a pot of eye shadow at him. Margaery has been trying to cop off with Daenerys Targaryen since the start of Year 10. Since they're nearing the end of Year 11, Loras — from his lofty view in Year 12 — thinks this has gone on for long enough. "Don't worry, little sister. She'll see how great you look and fall into your arms and snog you stupid."
Margaery sits heavily on the bed. "I wish. We can't all be as lucky as you."
"He didn't fall into my arms," Loras protests.
"No, you fell into his," Margaery says, grinning. Loras would ruffle her hair, but he knows exactly how long she's spent on it. He's been talking to her the whole time.
His phone buzzes in his pocket. "Speaking of," he says, reading the text, "they're outside."
"Right." Margaery takes a deep breath. "I really look nice?"
"Of course you look nice. What do we always say?"
Margaery smiles, and they chorus, "We're the prettiest."
"Come on." Loras gives her a quick half-hug.
Mya's sitting in the back seat of Renly's car. Margaery slides into the seat next to her while Loras sits in the front. He leans over to kiss Renly quickly. "You look gorgeous," Loras says.
"So do you," Renly says.
Loras keeps waiting for the first rush of feelings to subside whenever he sees him. They've been together for a year, since Loras was sixteen and Mya dragged him to her uncle Stannis's birthday party. They should be out of the honeymoon phase by now, he knows, but Renly's looking at him the same way he did when they first kissed, hiding out from everyone in the garden shed while Mya was busy organising a game of tig with her half-siblings and cousin. It still makes Loras's breath catch, his pulse race. He has to force himself not to climb into Renly's lap.
"Behave, you two," Mya says.
"Yes, please do behave," Margaery says.
"Our delicate ladyfolk are far too sensitive to be around us for long," Loras observes, grinning.
Renly starts the car and pulls out into the road. "Oh come on, they're related to us. You wouldn't want to be sat near someone sticking their tongue down Margaery's throat, would you?"
"You don't stick it down my throat," Loras says. "You're a much better kisser than that."
"Not the point," Renly says, while Mya makes gagging noises at Margaery. He grins at Loras. "Thanks, though."
"You do realise he managed to get you to drop the subject again?" Margaery points out. Loras turns to glare at her.
"Stop revealing all my secrets," he says. Margaery rolls her eyes at him.
"You're a devious man," Renly says. "Sometimes I wonder if I should be worried about how easily you can push my buttons. But then," he grins, "I remember I like it."
"Seriously," Mya says. "Can you go five minutes without being disgusting about each other?"
"I think you said 'disgusting' when you meant 'adorable', there," Loras says. "It's a terrible slip to make."
"Does my fist have to slip at your face?"
Loras laughs. "Okay, I'll behave."
"Aw," Renly says, the feigned disappointment spoiled by how wide he's smiling. "I hoped you wouldn't."
"We really should stop getting lifts from him," Margaery says to Mya. Mya nods.
Friday 8.45pm
Dany wipes her palms on her dress. Jon Snow is handing drinks around, the kitchen crowded, mostly with people from their year. Loras Tyrell from the year above is standing in a corner with an older guy, and as she sees Loras kissing the guy's neck she remembers that she's heard he has a boyfriend who's in uni. She looks away quickly.
"Hi," says a voice behind her. Dany turns around. Margaery Tyrell is standing there, wearing a green dress that makes her look even prettier than usual.
"Hi," Dany says. "Um, good party."
Margaery smiles. "It's better downstairs. They're starting a game of Spin the Bottle," she says, voice turning sultry. "D'you want to join?"
"Um," she says. Dany always gets a bit flustered around Margaery. She was, after all, Dany's first real proper crush, before she met Doreah and everything else in the world dimmed. I am awesome and he can suck it, she reminds herself. "Yeah, okay."
Margaery lights up. Just then, Jon puts a paper cup in Dany's hand. "Here you go," he says, smiling.
Dany is surrounded by pretty people. She manages a smile and says, "Thanks."
"Come on," Margaery says. "Don't want to miss the game."
She leads Dany down to the cellar. The Starks have converted what was probably once a wine cellar into a big, sprawling sitting room, with sofas and armchairs and plenty of room for dancing, and coffee tables littered with magazines and coasters. There's a circle forming in a clear space next to one of the sofas. Margaery and Dany join, which is when Dany notices Irri and Jhiqui on the other side of it.
"Hi Dany," Jhiqui says, grinning. "This is going to be fun." She's eyeing the boys sitting near Dany, who Dany supposes are cute. She's far more into girls, really.
"All right," someone says, "let's get this party started."
Dany spends the first ten minutes of the game caught between being afraid the bottle will land on her and being afraid that it never will. It does, eventually, and she dutifully kisses a boy who looks about eighteen and doesn't say much. She sits back down, shaking slightly, and spins the bottle.
It lands on Margaery. A chorus of whoops goes up from the boys, and some of them lean forward eagerly. Face hot, Dany turns to her.
Margaery has a joyful look on her face, like she'd been hoping this would happen. Maybe that's why she got me to join the game, Dany thinks. Heart pounding, she leans in.
Margaery kisses her firmly, with one hand to the back of her head. It's nice; her lips are soft, she doesn't try to push it to French kissing, and Dany gets a little light-headed. She's kissing Margaery. She's kissing Margaery. For the first time that night, she forgets about her skirt or where Doreah's got to and just kisses her first proper crush.
Eventually, they pull away. Several of the boys make rude, lecherous comments, but Dany ignores all of them. She ignores everything in that room, except the sight of Doreah walking out of it.
Friday 9.15pm
Robb notices a stray cup in a plant pot and picks it up, sniffing. Coke and lime.
It's not conclusive enough, but he's been glimpsing things for the past ten minutes that have added to his growing suspicions. A flicker at the corner of his eye, like a hand moving out of sight. A crisp crushed into the carpet near the stairs. An indefinable sense of something being amiss.
Robb finds Jon still in the kitchen and pulls him aside. "Bran's here," he says, quiet.
"Are you sure?" Jon looks around the kitchen. "I haven't seen him."
"You know how he is, even Dad doesn't see him sometimes," Robb says. "I found an empty cup of Coke and lime in the dining room."
"I wondered who was in the fridge." Jon sighs. "Shall I fetch him?"
"I'll do it. You should talk to those friends of yours." He gives Jon a pointed look.
"Yeah, I know." Jon squares his shoulders. "You're right. I'm going in."
"If you see Bran, send him to me."
"Will do."
Robb isn't sure where to look first, so he starts in the cupboard under the stairs. Only the vacuum cleaner and the ironing board are there, so he starts looking in the other hiding places he knows of.
Jeyne finds him when he's poking around behind the sofa in the living room. "Are you okay?" she asks.
"Looking for my brother," Robb says, standing up and dusting his hands off, trying to look like he wasn't just kneeling and digging around with his arm like a fool. "Bran. He's nine. He's supposed to be in bed, but I think he's snuck down here."
"Ah," Jeyne nods. "I've got a nine-year-old brother. They do get everywhere. Shall I help you look for him?"
He smiles at her. She always makes him feel like he could be a king, and like it doesn't matter who he is because she'd be nice to him no matter what. "I haven't tried the cellar yet," he says.
They find Bran curled up, half hidden behind an armchair, watching a game of Twister. "Up," Robb says, holding his hand out. "You should be in bed."
"I wanted to see the party," Bran says. He takes Robb's hand, though, and looks at Jeyne. "Hello. Are you Robb's girlfriend?"
Jeyne blushes slightly. "I don't know yet," she says, looking at Robb uncertainly. There's some hope in her expression, and Robb feels like his heart is expanding.
"I'd like her to be," he says, half to Jeyne and half to Bran. Then he shakes himself. "Get back into bed, Bran."
"It's not fair," Bran says, but he lets Robb march him up the two flights of stairs. Jeyne says something about getting a drink and slips off to the kitchen as they pass it.
When they're in Bran's room, Robb stands over him while he gets into bed. "See, I'm in bed," he says, stubborn as ever.
"Stay there this time," Robb says. "You've seen the party, now go to sleep."
He's turning away when Bran says, "Do you like her?"
Robb turns back. "Jeyne?" He can't help smiling. "More than I've liked any girl."
Bran nods to himself. "I thought so. It seemed like you had something important going on at the party."
Robb is still for a moment, then sits on Bran's bed and hugs him. "You're very perceptive, did you know that?"
"That's what Uncle Brandon said last Christmas," Bran says. "I still don't know what it means."
"You see things others wouldn't," Robb says. He stands up. "Go to sleep now, Bran."
"All right." Bran turns onto his side and closes his eyes, and Robb shuts his door softly.
Friday 9.30pm
"I wondered where you'd got to," Jon says when he gets to the garden.
Sam looks up. "It's too warm in there," he says. "I like it out here."
Jon sits next to him, on the raised brick wall separating the patio from the grass. "It's quiet. Good place to think."
"Yeah." Sam looks into his drink.
"Is something the matter?"
Sam doesn't look at him when he starts talking. "You've been avoiding me," he says. "Not at school. You always sit with me at school, and it's like everything's fine. But then when any of us go round to anyone else's house, you're always talking to someone else, or in another room." He does look up, then. "Am I imagining it?"
Jon wants to say he is, but this is Sam. He's never been able to lie to Sam. "No," he says. "I haven't exactly been avoiding you. Just ... being alone with you."
"Oh." Sam looks devastated, like he's just lost his last bit of hope. "Why? Don't you want to be friends any more?"
"Of course I do," Jon protests. "It's not that, it's — I can't say it."
"Say what? Is it — what, am I too fat for you to look at or something —" Sam sounds upset, but not really angry. He's always doing this, acting like he expects everyone around him to stop liking him for no good reason.
"Sam, don't ever think I don't like you," Jon says. "Okay? I like you." He takes a deep breath. It's as close as he can get to saying it.
"Okay," Sam says, and he doesn't get any further before Jon kisses him.
Sam pulls away sharply. "Is this a joke?"
"What? No." Now it's done, his heart is thumping loudly in his ears and he's somehow more anxious.
"A bet, then," Sam says, misery written all over his face. "Yes, it's very funny, let's see how much someone'd have to be paid to kiss the likes of me."
"Sam," Jon snaps. He turns to face him, cupping Sam's cheeks in his palms. "Shut up. Your bullies are pricks. Your dad's a prick. Anyone who makes you feel like you feel is a prick. I didn't kiss you for a bet, or a dare, or a joke. I kissed you because I —" He forces himself to say it. "I like you. I like you."
"You?" Sam looks like he wants to laugh. "Come off it, Jon, look at you. You're gorgeous, why would you ever like me?"
"You're cute, Sam. Really cute. You're sweet and you make me smile. Why wouldn't I like you? And don't start listing," he says, as Sam opens his mouth to protest. "I don't believe any of the reasons you always give me. The people who've told you you're not cute are pricks. Pricks."
Sam kisses him with a desperation Jon didn't expect. He kisses back, turning it as soft as he can, because he's been thinking about kissing Sam for about a year and he's always wanted to kiss him slowly under the stars.
Sam breaks off the kiss and says, "I can't." He runs inside, and Jon sits for a minute, listening to the sounds of the party spilling out of the windows.
Friday 9.40pm
"It's okay," Loras says, for approximately the sixteenth time in five minutes.
Sam shakes his head. "No, it's not. I left him out there! I just left him!"
He'd come immediately to Loras, who had been happily curled up in Renly's lap on one of the sofas in the cellar, after about an hour of dancing. Renly had stood up when Sam approached, and said, "I'll leave you two to talk."
"He'll survive," Loras says. He's hugging Sam, doing his best to keep his voice soothing. "Come on, it's not like you told him to get lost."
"I just can't," Sam wails. "What will my dad say?"
"Maybe my dad could talk to him," Loras suggests. "They're friends, maybe he'd listen. Dad's been really great about Margaery and me being queer."
"Yes, but your dad's always been kind and lovely. My dad'd skin me alive if he found out I like boys. He's been suspicious ever since he found me sewing with Mum when I was six. He always says, 'No son of mine is going to be a poof.' I really think he'd kill me first." He swallows tears.
Loras hugs him harder. "I'll help you keep it from him," he says. "Whatever you need. You can't let him rule your entire life, you've got to have some things for yourself."
"I've got things. I've got my friends," Sam says. "He doesn't hurt me for having friends."
Loras sighs. "I wish you'd let me call Childline or social services or something," he says. He's been saying it since he was twelve, but Sam always shakes his head, and he does the same now.
"They'd take me away from Mum," he says, "and my sisters. You know I can't."
"I refuse to let him keep you from being happy," Loras says, teeth gritted. "Well, as much as I can, anyway. You will go back out there and you will snog the living daylights out of Jon Snow. I know you've been pining after him since you were eight. Go and be happy, and fuck everything else. Just fuck it. You deserve a gorgeous boyfriend, Samwell Tarly."
Sam blushes. "D'you really think he'd want to be my boyfriend?"
"Yes, you doofus, that would be why he kissed you. Now go. Be happy. Don't worry about your dad, okay? Not tonight."
Sam stands up. "Thank you, Loras. You're a good friend."
Loras shrugs. "You're practically family. Now go." He does, scampering out with a hopeful smile.
Renly comes back a few minutes later, two drinks in his hands. "Everything okay?"
"Gay crisis," Loras says, standing up so Renly can sit down and he can sprawl on his lap again. "Now I believe we were having a gay non-crisis."
Renly laughs. "Almost anything is a non-crisis. You'll have to be more specific than that."
"Oh, will I?" Loras takes a sip of his drink, holds it in his mouth, and kisses Renly. He makes a startled sound when Loras opens his mouth and the Archers and Coke slides into Renly's. They swallow half the mouthful each, and keep kissing, putting their drinks down on the table next to the sofa without looking.
They come up for air after a few minutes. "Well," Renly says, "that certainly was specific."
Loras grins and leans down again.
Friday 10pm
Robb should probably be doing more host things, like getting drinks for people and making sure nobody spills things on the expensive rugs, but right now he's kissing Jeyne Westerling and it's the best thing that's ever happened to him.
She tastes like sunlight, if sunlight can have a taste. He knows it's stupid to think it, but he can't help feeling like he's falling in love. He's had a swooping sort of sensation in his chest since their lips first met, twenty minutes ago. They haven't been kissing non-stop since then, but as near as makes no difference. She keeps shifting closer, her hands in his hair, his on her waist, and they fit together. They just fit.
Friday 10.15pm
Dany hasn't seen Doreah for over an hour. She's looked in the downstairs loo, in the kitchen and the ground floor rooms and the cellar and even the garden, disturbing Jon Snow kissing his best friend Sam, their hands under each other's shirts. Jon had made her promise not to tell anyone before he'd let her go back inside, and she'd given the promise immediately. Of course she wouldn't tell anyone. With all the weight of the secrets she already carries, what's one more?
Finally, she starts upstairs, looking around to make sure there are no Starks or close friends of Starks to see her. Nobody's supposed to go upstairs but the family, and at any other party people would be breaking that rule left and right, but everybody likes Robb and Jon, everybody respects them.
She feels horrible for breaking this rule, for sneaking into the private family spaces. Upstairs, there are closed doors all along the corridor. One has brightly-coloured letters spelling RICKON, another has a huge HAZARDOUS MATERIALS — KEEP OUT! sign on it. One has a poster of a wolf. There are soft sleeping sounds coming from most of the rooms.
At the end of the corridor is a door that's slightly ajar. Different sounds are coming from this one. Dany pauses outside it, trying to hear them better, to work out what they are.
There's a muffled sob and she realises. Someone is crying. "Hello?" she calls, quiet so as not to wake the sleepers.
"No one's supposed to be here," comes a whisper. It sounds like a girl's voice, but hoarse.
"Are you all right?" Dany pushes the door open and steps in.
Doreah is curled up in the bath. It looks like she's been crying for a while, her makeup streaked all down her face, her dress crumpled and damp. Her mouth is contorted in misery.
Dany feels like her heart has been ripped out. "Dori," she whispers, dropping to her knees and reaching out to touch her cheek. Doreah jerks away. "What happened?"
She laughs bitterly. "I got my heart broken, that's what happened."
"Oh Dori." Dany closes her eyes against the tearing in her own heart, and tries to take Doreah's hand. Doreah pulls it away. "Who was he?"
Doreah stares at her. "How can you —" Her face changes, disbelief and something like amusement, but with an edge to it. "You can't be serious."
"What?" Dany is lost. "You've never told me you liked someone. He's clearly mad, if he broke your heart."
Doreah shakes her head. "You are serious," she says. There's tears still making their way down her cheeks. Dany wants to reach out and brush them away, but Doreah doesn't seem to want anyone touching her, so she keeps her hands where they are.
"Yes. Did — did I forget?" She feels ashamed, that she missed such a huge thing, that her best friend could get her heart broken and Dany wouldn't have the slightest clue who could have done that.
"No, you just apparently didn't notice." Doreah sighs. "It was you. Who else would it be, Dany? Who else have I been calling at three in the morning when I can't sleep, just because their voice is the best thing in the world to me? Who else have I been hopelessly in love with since I moved to this stupid town? Who else —"
"You love me?" Dany is trying to process this, but it's too fast. She'd never even dared to hope.
"Yes, more fool me. And then there you are," Doreah starts crying properly again, "kissing the one girl I know you've liked for ages, and what am I meant to do then, Dany?"
Dany feels very small, and ashamed, and devastated. "I didn't know," she says. "Dori — I liked Margaery before I met you, but — but then I met you and I've barely been able to think about anyone else since."
Doreah stares at her. "You're not — she's not your girlfriend now?"
"What? No. It was just a game, just Spin the Bottle," she says, and Doreah wipes at her eyes.
"It was — that was Spin the Bottle?" Doreah makes a sound that's half sob, half laugh. "Right. The circle. God, I am so stupid."
"You're not stupid," Dany says. "I'm stupid, though."
"No." Doreah is sitting up, wiping at her cheeks. Dany hands her toilet paper, and she scrubs at her face. "The mantra, Dany. Say it."
"Viserys is wrong," Dany recites. "I'm not nothing. I'm awesome and he can suck it."
"You're not nothing and you're not stupid," Doreah says. She sniffs. "You're amazing, and I look a mess, I'm sorry."
"You don't look a mess," Dany says, even though she does, really. "You never look a mess to me." She blushes, looking away.
Doreah takes one of her hands, laces their fingers together. "Would you kiss me," she says, "like you kissed Margaery?"
"No," Dany says. "I'd kiss you much better than that."
Doreah smiles, and Dany leans over the edge of the bath to kiss her.
Friday 10.30pm
Jon has Sam backed against the garden shed; they moved there after Daenerys saw them, so no one else could see. He's kissing him under the stars and it's just how he imagined.
Sam pulls away and says, "We should probably be getting back."
"Not yet," Jon says, leaning in again and kissing him. Sam kisses back for a minute, then pulls away again.
"But Grenn'll be looking for us by now," he says. He's using his worrying voice. Jon traces a fingertip over his cheek.
"Don't worry. He won't find us." Jon leans in again. Sam kisses back for a few minutes — glorious minutes, soft lips and a taste of vodka — but pulls away again.
"I really think we ought to be getting back," he says.
"Sam." Jon cups Sam's face in his hands. "Every single person at this party could stand behind us and watch, and right now, I wouldn't care. I just want to kiss you."
"Oh." Sam looks like he's not quite sure what to do. "Well. I'd like that."
"Good." Jon smiles. "Come here then," he says, and kisses Sam again.
Saturday 2am
"If I don't take you kids home now, your dad will kill me," Renly says.
"I'm not a kid," Loras protests. "And it's not Dad you'd have to worry about."
"It was a figure of speech. Okay then, your Nana will kill me."
Half the party is gone, the other half unwilling to leave. Sam is standing with Jon, beaming like he never has before, giving Loras two thumbs up. Margaery's on the other side of the room, playing tonsil hockey with Lancel Lannister. He can't say it's her best ever choice of rebound.
And he can't even kiss Renly any more, because Mya is sitting next to them, playing Bejeweled on her phone, blinking at it sleepily. He wonders if she'd really notice if he kissed him, but he tried that ten minutes ago and she'd shoved him until he stopped. "Don't make me sing that South Park song at you," she says now, as if she knows what he's thinking.
"Mind reader," Loras throws at her. She laughs.
"Thinking dirty things about me?" Renly grins. Mya pokes him, not looking up from her phone.
Loras leans in until his mouth is next to Renly's ear and murmurs, "Always." Renly shivers.
"Right." Mya stands up, stretching. "I'll rescue Margaery from the clutches of the Lannister, you go and get the car started."
Loras passes Robb snogging a girl with red-brown hair, gives Sam a thumbs up as he passes, says thanks and goodnight to Jon, and follows Renly outside to the car.
The second they're in it, Loras says, "I wish I could go home with you."
Renly leans over and kisses him. "I wish you could too," he says into Loras's mouth. Loras smiles.
"How about tomorrow?" He kisses him lightly. "You, me, some whipped cream," he kisses Renly's smile, "maybe I'll bring my tie again."
"I've got handcuffs," Renly says. Loras's breath catches.
"Yes, my lord," he whispers, shivering deliciously.
Renly says, "I didn't ask anything," but he sounds a bit breathless. Loras closes the distance and kisses him, fitting right back into place. Every time they kiss, it's like a jigsaw slotting together, their mouths, their bodies, in perfect harmony. Loras eases Renly's lips open with his tongue, Renly smiling into it, and Renly's hands slide into Loras's hair.
They're still kissing when Margaery and Mya get to the car. "Ugh," Margaery says, tapping Loras on the head until he breaks the kiss. "It's bad enough Dany disappeared the second I kissed her, I don't want to have to see you two love birds being happy."
"Hug her for me," Loras says to Mya, the please inherent in the tone. Mya does, and Margaery leans into it. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, I'll be okay." Margaery smiles, and it's almost genuine. "I'll wallow for a day at most, but I never loved her or anything. I just wanted to snog her. Which I did, so it's a win, really. I just have to get over the disappointment."
"A Lannister, though?" Renly says, wincing into the rear-view mirror at her.
Margaery shrugs. "He was there. He's pretty. Mya wouldn't kiss me. She was my first choice for a rebound snog."
"I'm flattered," Mya says, deadpan. "It was great hanging out all night, but I'm really not into girls."
"You could've tried," Margaery says. "I'd have showed you a good time." The playful gleam is starting to come back into her eyes, and Loras relaxes. She really will be okay.
While Mya deflects Margaery's flirting in the back, Loras slides his hand onto Renly's thigh. Renly glances over and Loras mouths, "Tomorrow." Renly grins and starts the engine.