Chapter 1 #2
And with that Allegra grabs him by the arm.
The ground crunches as he steps over shards of glass.
He doesn’t break my gaze the whole time; my jaw is clenched so hard I think my teeth may shatter.
As he turns, I think about the number of Christmases I’ve spent with him, the money and time I’ve wasted on gifts, the number of times I said, ‘I love you’.
My heart feels like stone inside my chest – grey heavy stone, everything that Christmas isn’t.
I shut the door behind him and rest my forehead against it.
I hear the murmur of their voices in the hallway. ‘Crap, I’ve left my phone in there.’
‘You idiot. You can’t go back in there.’
‘She knows my passcode, she’ll see everything.’
‘Everything?’
I place cold hands to my temples and try to rub away my frustration, my confusion, my hurt.
I walk to the bedroom. His phone is charging next to his side, as usual.
I dial in the passcode and open up his messages.
Filtered pictures of his genitals, messages about hook ups and hard nipples, a whole complement of emotional devastation on his new iPhone 14.
I open our bedroom window that opens out on to the street. I throw that out, too.
Joe
Hey, Eve. You OK? So, as it’s Christmas and it’s a time for giving, I thought I’d give you this.
Yes, it’s that thing. I know, I know… It’s a bit cheesy and last year I literally just gave you a chocolate reindeer, but I wanted you to have it.
Is that weird? That’s weird. It’s just I’ve known you now for nearly two years and I think you’re great.
Really great. And I know you have a boyfriend, but I guess it can’t hurt to hear that someone else out there thinks you’re amazing.
I mean, I love you. That’s a lot, isn’t it?
That’s a strong word. I like you very much.
I like you, strongly. I’ve made my feelings for you sound like a questionnaire now.
What I mean is, I just like being around you.
You make everything better. Merry Christmas.
I look in the mirror. That’s a really bad monologue.
I can’t say that to Eve. Firstly, because it’s Christmas but also because it’s a proper Hugh Grant ramble and she’ll laugh in my face.
The pure facts are she has a boyfriend and I have to respect that line, that unwritten code of not being that person who breaks up a relationship.
Maybe I should just post this to her. It’s just a gift.
Between friends. At Christmas. ’Tis the season and all that.
Do I crush on Eve? A fair bit. Perhaps too much.
Instead of bouldering my way in there, though, I offer her friendship, I buy her the occasional drink, I admire her from afar like some doe-eyed puppy.
I distract myself with flings and date other people. People who just aren’t… her.
Her boyfriend is Chris, he works in publishing, he has a proper job and does grown-up things like play squash and has a car that works.
There is no question who’s the better option.
I met the boyfriend once at a works drinks do.
Did he speak down to me, highlighting the size of his car engine like a dickhead?
Yes. But I saw the way that Eve leaned into him and how much she adored him.
In that moment, I knew sabotage was not the way forward because it would likely just lead to heartache for me.
‘That is a lewk, Joe Lord,’ Gabriel, my housemate, says from the doorway of our shared house.
‘Too much?’ I say, turning to him.
‘I’d argue, not enough. You look like a mixture of Superman and Santa’s Little Helper. It’s frankly hurting my eyes,’ he says, shading his view. ‘The shorts are very…’
‘Tight? Can you see my…’
‘Candy cane?’ he says, laughing. ‘Joe, you’re a buff butler. They probably went a size down so you could give all the ladies something to look at. You’re all chiselled, tall and handsome. They’ll want to get their money’s worth.’
‘Look at? I’ve done this gig for too long now.
They get gropey.’ It’s a part-time gig I got into by mistake.
I thought I was applying to be a real-life butler.
I thought I’d be helping someone like Bruce Wayne fight crime in smart tailoring.
I didn’t realise I’d be wearing shorts so tight you can see the outline of my crack.
That said, I need the extra income and it’s easy money. Except when they get gropey.
‘But the tips…’
‘Keep the lights on. I know.’
‘Yes, I know that sounds awful as your housemate, asking you to whore yourself out to keep a roof over our heads, but needs must.’
I look at myself in the mirror again. Even I can’t believe the rates I get paid at Christmas.
I get paid stupid money because the rest of the world has plans.
Christmas plans involving drinks, carolling and getting ready for the coming of the big man in red.
Normal people have already blocked work out of their hearts and minds so yes, I work because no one else wants to.
If my agency wants me to pour shots into ladies’ mouths at a bottomless brunch, dressed as an elf with bells on his shorts and don a fur-lined cape like some sort of Christmas pimp then so be it.
Gabriel looks down at the gift on the bed. ‘When are you going to do it then? Not today, surely?’ he asks.
Gabriel is party to the knowledge about Eve because I told him once when I was drunk.
He knows about the crush, but the advice is awful.
He told me love is a competition, and I need to access my baser instincts and put myself up for contention.
Like silverbacks trying to win the mating rights of a lady gorilla.
Gabriel watches too many nature programmes.
‘No. She’s busy today, she has Christmas plans. You know, I may not even give it. It’s a stupid idea.’
‘Dude, no. That’s a cute gift. You’ve put thought into it. I hope you’ve put that much thought into my gift.’
I got Gabriel kitchen gadgets because that’s how he gets his kicks. What I’ve got him will blow his little mind and I can’t wait to see his face when he opens it.
‘Find her tonight, dressed like that, with some mistletoe. Keep it all on theme,’ he continues.
‘Not today,’ I say resolutely, shaking my head.
Gabriel pouts, another plan of his rejected. ‘And not with that speech either…’ He smirks.
‘You heard that? Was it shit?’
He nods. ‘I’ve never even met this boyfriend she’s with but even I know you’re a better option.
Maybe keep the focus on you and how you feel about her.
Like don’t tell her about the time you got drunk in that chicken shop and you told Mustafa and all his staff how much you loved her and he felt sorry for you and gave you free chips,’ he says, joking, even though he was the person who ate those free chips.
‘Just tell her how much she means to you.’ He glances over to the bed again.
‘You’re very good at wrapping. Can you wrap the rest of my gifts? ’
‘I am. And no.’
He looks over at the tag and the handwritten note. ‘You old romantic. If I wasn’t straight and with a girlfriend, I’d marry you myself.’
‘I want a ring before I commit. I’m not sharing you.
’ Gabriel was one of the first people I knew in this crazy city when I moved here for university.
We bonded over study breaks where Cup Noodles and naps featured heavily, and he has since been my saviour, letting me rent his second bedroom and looking after me like one would do a very large pet.
That might change when his girlfriend eventually moves in but for now, it’s preferable to living with randoms who label their food and eat in the bath.
‘You missed a bit of fake tan by the way, on your thighs.’ Gabriel looks down at his own thighs in comparison. ‘I would help but I don’t love you that much.’
‘Thanks, buddy. Do you need a lift to work? I head out in about half an hour.’
‘You’re going in costume?’ he asks, confused.
‘I’m driving. I don’t want to get stuck there later looking for public transport and taxis at Christmas. Plus, this might get us in the mood. I’ll chuck some Christmas tunes on?’
‘Then you, sir, are a saint as well as a disgustingly handsome elf.’
I laugh then scan over to the gift on my bed. Not this Christmas, Eve.