Nudge 14 The Group Effort
The Group Effort
There are certain things you come to expect when your friend moves into their first solo place: wine nights, a designated hangout spot, a sofa to crash on after a night out.
What you actually get? Full weekends sat on the floor, attempting to assemble poorly labelled flat-pack furniture.
Unfortunately, if one of us calls, we all run, no questions asked.
So here I crouch, dubiously balancing a bed frame above my head.
Kimi shrieks, dramatically dropping the manual. ‘Are you an idiot?’
‘You told me to screw these pieces together!’ Devi waves the screwdriver. ‘I knew they looked too big to fit.’
Kimi shakes her head. ‘Not you, babe. I’m talking to our new resident daredevil. You just handed over the perfect job to an evil genius!’
If I’d known she’d react like this, I might have chosen a different time to bring up the deal. But I’d hoped that our current DIY focus would be so strong that they’d let my news roll off their backs.
‘I didn’t give it, I wagered it in exchange for an even better, solo job. Let’s circle back to that part. I like that part.’ I slowly release the frame on Devi’s cue. ‘Ready?’
We all hold our breath as my hands leave the metal, placing all faith in the strength of our efforts. It stays where I left it, supported by the new hinge, as Devi grins with pride at our handiwork.
‘Yeah, a better solo job if you can stop being yourself for six months,’ she adds a second later, shrugging out from underneath the frame.
‘Not stop being me! Just stop being so organised all the time! It shouldn’t be that hard, right?’ I ask.
The room goes silent, their telling eyes and pursed lips saying more than their words ever could.
It’s insulting how little faith they have in me.
Or, at least, it would be if I weren’t feeling just as worried.
But I will not have them give up on me, at least not this quickly.
Someone’s got to rally for me, especially while I’m struggling to rally for myself.
‘I can do it.’ I snatch the manual from Raina and begin to arrange the next set of screws. ‘You believe me, right, Raina?’
She’s my best bet for an ally; her heart can’t take the tension. But I can tell by her face that even she’s struggling.
‘Raina?’
‘Of course I do, you know I always believe in you,’ she says. ‘But couldn’t you have bet a tenner or a doughnut, or something?’
‘A head of department role is a whole different ballgame,’ Devi sighs.
‘That’s what makes it fun!’ I say with a squeal, distributing the new parts between everyone.
Kimi tuts. ‘No, hun, that’s what makes it idiotic. And since when did we start doing deals with the devil?’
If there’s one thing Kimi is, it is consistent.
And I do have to rate it, honestly; someone needs to keep Aiden in check and I’m sick of carrying that burden by myself.
But I can tell my fire doesn’t burn as hot as hers – at least, not any more.
Not after the last couple of Fridays we’ve had and the way he’s carried me through them, against my will.
‘He’s not been too bad recently. Kind of helpful sometimes,’ I say, tracing over the events of the last few weeks.
‘That’s how he got you.’ Devi nods solemnly as she reaches for the Allen key. ‘Charmed you into losing that sweet, sweet promotion. I blame the arms. You didn’t stand a chance.’
‘It wasn’t the arms!’ I say defensively. ‘And he didn’t charm me – I wanted to.’
‘That makes it worse. You weren’t manipulated, you were just being stupid,’ Kimi huffs.
‘She’s not stupid, she’s just stubborn. Especially with him,’ Raina says as she holds the diagram up to our work.
It’s my turn to scowl at Raina now, in response to her pointless aside, but she takes little to no note of my anger, shrugging lightly in response.
‘What? It’s true. You two have always been like this. You spent all of A-level English competing for who could give the coldest shoulder. Then you see him once at uni and—’
A sharp nudge from Kimi stops her words in their tracks.
‘It was never a competition,’ I huff, ignoring the last part.
I won at practically everything Aiden ever threw my way.
When he didn’t want to talk to me, I made sure my silence was louder.
When he joked with everyone else but me, I made sure my eye rolls laughed for me.
Every time he went out of his way to make me feel like he was the one stuck next to me, I endeavoured to make sure that he was humbled – that he knew he was no grand prize either.
This will be no different if I have anything to do with it.
‘Come on, guys. You know I’m not stupid; I have a plan.
’ I reach across the carpet for my phone.
‘I’ve written down a list of activities that seem super reckless for me and separated them into a series of stages.
Stage One starts now and sets the tone, and Stage Five – the final stage – takes place just before Summer Splash. ’
The three of them stare back at me, faces a mix of horror and confusion. Then they exchange glances, clearly weighing up the best person to take this. Eventually, Raina steps up with a well-meaning sigh.
‘Mads, baby . . .’ She reaches for my hand. ‘You just made a plan to not make a plan. And it was deeply and unnecessarily thorough. Even for you.’
‘I can’t just think on the spot! I’m not wired to do that and frankly don’t think it makes sense,’ I say.
‘We know, babe. That’s why we’re so furious.’ Devi has given up on the bed frame and is leaning back against the wall. ‘This whole bet is ridiculous and we need to figure a way out of it before it’s too late. Did you sign anything?’
‘SILENCE.’ Kimi’s bellow is unprovoked and the command stops us all in our tracks, rattling the half-done bed. The doubt’s been wiped clean from her face, not a trace to be found. All that remains is the tough, fixed resolve of a winner.
‘If we are going to win this, then we need to stop acting like we’ve already lost,’ she says.
‘We?’ I ask.
‘Yes, we. You think you can do this alone? You’ve had five days and you’ve practically handed him the prize.’ She tuts. ‘This is group property now; we’re getting you that job. Devi, start researching. Raina, take notes.’
Militant as she is, Kimi’s orders send a ripple of relief through my soul. Alone, I won’t lie, the bet was looking a little shaky. But together I reckon we can do this.
‘Give me your phone, Maddison. I’m deleting your apps,’ Kimi says confidently, holding out her hand.
‘My apps?’ I ask.
I don’t know what’s worse – how ominous her statement is, or the fact she believes that something so vague will work with someone like me. Who just hands over their phone to a friend to ‘delete apps’? I trust Kimi with my life, but my phone is a whole other thing.
‘We’re deleting anything you rely on to plan. Calendar, habit tracker, journal, period tracker . . .’ She goes on, but she’s lost me already. I can’t hear anything that she says over the loud alarm bells ringing in my mind.
‘The period tracker seems a little extreme,’ I say.
‘It’s six months! Like me, you will learn to quite literally go with the flow.’
‘But the algorithm,’ Raina whispers. ‘All of that data . . . It will take months to get it accurate again!’
‘Don’t encourage her!’ Kimi says warningly, flicking through my app screens after I reluctantly hand my phone over. ‘I’ll let you keep your notes app, but I expect it to be used chaotically.’
She hands my phone back, watching as I scroll through the home pages. I try to quell my imminent breakdown. The order’s all wrong. The remaining apps have shifted in place. I try to oh-so subtly reorganise them in my head, my thumb mapping them out as it hovers over my screen.
‘You want to organise them,’ Devi says.
‘I do not!’ I’m lying.
‘Mads! Do you want to win this money or not?’ Kimi lightly slaps my hand.
When Kimi gets serious, there’s nothing you can do to derail her and she is indeed serious about this new bet.
I breathe a sigh of relief. With Kimi and the girls on my side, there’s absolutely no way I can lose.
Aiden Edwards will rue the day he staked his future on my failure, and he will do so from his remaining position as talent manager.