Chapter 1
Billie
Could this year get any worse?
Nicky blew on her coffee as she listened to me, her gold hoop earrings reflecting the light pouring in from the coffee shop window.
Her long-sleeved cheetah print top pulled slightly against her chest as she leaned in.
Her usual dark, musky perfume surrounded our table.
Her dark brown eyes were wide as she listened, shining with the usual amusement—mixed with a splash of horror—as I told her about my last date.
Eventually, she sighed. “You’re telling me he spent the entire time talking about his ex-wife?”
I groaned, running my hands through my long blonde hair. “I’m just going to give up. It’s useless.”
Nicky chuckled and shook her head. “No, you’re not. I’m proud of you for getting out there again. Look, you indulged. You had a one-night stand that turned into a damn crush on a student. Billie, seriously, I love you, but that was never going to work.”
I swirled my hazelnut latte, the spoon making a pattern in the foam.
Alex. Ugh. Still, the thought of her made my toes curl.
She was hot and playful, and I loved how confident she was.
She slowed down with me, like she could read my body in a way no one else ever has.
It all made me want more time with her. I wanted to get to know her; she made me blush just by paying attention to me.
I knew it was just fun for her. It was for me, too, at first. But then I saw what she found with Dr Carter.
My stomach flipped at the thought. It hurt seeing them together, realising how blind I had been.
But when I really paid attention, it was clear how in love they were.
Alex stepped up in a way that showed she was ready for a commitment she’d never pictured with me, and Dr Carter softened in a way only a truly happy person does.
I just wanted what they had found.
“Nicky, Alex was... she was different. You know I didn’t know she was a student when we met!”
Nicky scoffed. “Oh, I know. You abandoned me and Pete to go shag the girl in the staff room.”
I couldn’t help but smirk at the memory. I had never done anything like that before, but Alex had just been so magnetic. I took a sip of my drink, giving Nicky a completely unapologetic look.
She rolled her eyes and groaned again. “Yeah, yeah, I know the girl is a complete magician or some shit, but for goodness' sake, Bill, you slept with her twice!”
I rolled my eyes and flipped her off as I sip my coffee. “I’m not in love with her, Nicky, calm down. I just... I haven’t had someone want me like she did, even just those two times. Okay? That’s it.”
Nicky’s shoulders slumped, her voice turning soft in that way I hated.
“Bill, you will find someone. I know you will.” She sat up straighter, looking at me with the utmost seriousness.
“You are hot as hell. You’re kind and clever and funny.
You will find someone who wants to throw you against the wall and fuck you in the street because they can’t wait long enough to get you home! ”
“Jesus, Nicky, shut up!” I hissed as a few heads turn our way.
Nicky laughed. “Nope. My best friend is hot as fuck and deserves someone who appreciates her, not someone who is just looking for a bit of fun while they finish a doctorate or a man who isn’t over his ex. You deserve someone who just wants you for you.”
I rolled my eyes and sipped my coffee. I wanted that, too.
Obviously. But it felt so out of reach. I’d never had someone who wanted me for longer than a few dates.
Maybe there was something wrong with me.
Maybe I cared too much. Maybe they got scared away when I suggested seeing each other more than once a week, or because I blushed too easily.
Maybe I just had a big sign on my forehead that says Unlovable or Only Good for One Night.
Because that had always been the case. Nicky, while obviously biased, wasn’t entirely wrong.
I wasn’t bad-looking. I had that "natural blonde with curves" thing going on that usually caught people’s eyes.
It just... only seemed to do that, rather than anything more.
Nicky softened again, and I groaned. “I know what you’re doing. You’re doing that whole ‘I’m clearly not enough’ mantra in your mind, and it's bullshit, Bill. Someone will come crashing into your life and you’ll never believe that again. I just know it.”
“Easy for you to say. You met Alan when you were fifteen! You’ve been married for ten years and have your beautiful boys. Nicky, you are living the perfect domestic life, and I can barely get a second date.”
Nicky rolled her eyes. “It isn’t perfect. No relationship is ever perfect, Billie, you know that. But I also know that you are not destined to be on your own.”
“How? How do you know that?” I groaned. Seriously, it’s starting to feel like it.
Nicky smiled. “You’re just not. You will find someone, but—”
My phone dinged on the table. The sound of the stupid dating app she made me download felt like it’s mocking me.
Nicky looked at me as if she’s just manifested the love of my life.
I sighed and picked up my phone. My heart dropped when I saw the message from Nicole—the beautiful, tall blonde I was supposed to go on a date with tonight.
My eyes flew over the text:
Nicole: Sorry, but I’m going to cancel. To be honest, I’ve met someone. I wish you the best of luck!
I turned my phone around and showed Nicky, who looked like she wants to jump through the screen and strangle the woman.
Nicky and I have been best friends since childhood.
I remember when she met Alan, the kid from the badminton club she joined.
Nicky was terrible at it, but she kept going back because the tall, handsome, dark-skinned kid would smile at her.
She had always kept an eye out for me. I was the mousy kid who just tried to survive being invisible.
When I hit puberty, that became a little harder.
I grew boobs and my hips popped, and all of a sudden, people started looking.
There weren’t shadows to hide in anymore once the universe put a spotlight on me.
At first, I was terrified. Then I leant into it.
I started getting party invitations and people took an interest. One particularly rowdy party at an older guy's house turned into a night of glances that led to my legs open on some Manchester United sheets. Quite frankly, for my first time, it wasn’t too bad.
I revelled in the way someone seemed so into me.
But then... that was all it ever was. Someone takes notice, I enjoy being chased, and we have a fun time. But then it ends. I don’t feel used, exactly—I like sex, I like the passion, I like the thrill—but it would be nice if just once, I saw that same want for me to hold a conversation or laugh.
Nicky sighed “Well, fuck her then.” She finished her sandwich and pushed her hair off her shoulder. “Will you let me go through that thing? I bet I could find a winner.”
I put my phone down. “No way.”
“Come on! I can read people. Just one picture and I’ll tell you if they’re worth it.”
“You are not doing your weird voodoo stuff.” I tried to hold back a smile. She wasn’t wrong; she does have a sense for these things. I swear, she’s part witch.
Nicky laughed. “Just let me use my powers for good!”
“Come on, change of subject. How are the boys doing?”
Nicky squinted at me, but she allowed the pivot. “Eli is a teenager in an eleven-year-old’s body.”
I smirked. “That kid is too clever.”
Nicky groaned. “Oh, tell me about it. Let me tell you what my son has been doing. You know that bar we built at the end of the garden? Decked out with consoles, a pool table, and all the fizzy drinks they could need?”
“I know it well. I’ve been thoroughly beaten by your boys on those consoles.”
“Yes, well—Eli has been filling his backpack with the drinks and going into school and flogging them!”
I nearly spilled my tea as I laughed.
“Oh, you laugh, but I’ve been filling that fridge having no idea my son is running a black market profit! Actually, not even profit—it's pure revenue, because I’m the one paying for the stock!”
“He’s going places.”
Nicky rolled her eyes. “It’s terrifying. And Connor’s birthday is coming up. We’ve gotten him a Kindle because I don't think we can fit any more books in his room.”
I beamed. “I love those boys so much.”
“They love you too. You should come over soon.”
I nodded. “Absolutely. We could do a takeaway on—”
I gasped as hot coffee spills down my back. I stand abruptly, knocking my own latte over the table. “Fucking shit!”
I whirled around, coming face-to-face with a mortified waitress.
She stood there, wide-eyed, petrified, as I desperately hoped my skin isn't peeling off my spine.
Nicky was up in a shot. Ever the mother, she grabbed a packet of wipes from her bag.
The waitress finally found her feet, rushing off and returning with a towel and blue roll, stammering apologies.
The girl tried to wipe down my back and Nicky wipes my hands like I’m a toddler. God, what is my life?
I stood there, arms slightly out like a penguin, while Nicky scrubbed at my lower back with a dexterity only a mother of two could possess.
The waitress—who looked like she’s barely old enough to buy a lottery ticket—was still vibrating with anxiety, clutching a wad of blue roll like a security blanket.
"Honestly, it’s fine," I said, trying to sound like a gracious victim rather than someone whose bra strap was currently fused to her skin by hot sugary milk. "No harm done. Just a bit of a shock."
"I'm so, so sorry! I just... I tripped on the rug and it just went everywhere," she stammered, her face a shade of crimson that would have put a fire engine to shame.
Nicky finally stopped scrubbing and tossed the damp wipes into a nearby bin. "There. You’re not quite 'night out' ready, but you won't stick to the car seat on the way home." She gave the waitress a sympathetic, albeit firm, smile. "We’re alright now, love. Bless you."
The girl nodded frantically, disappearing toward the counter as if she’s escaping a crime scene. I gingerly lowered myself back onto the chair, trying to keep my back from touching the wood. It’s useless. Every movement felt like I was being slowly peeled away from a Post-It note.
A moment later, the waitress reappeared, her hands trembling as she sets a fresh hazelnut latte down in front of me. "On the house," she whispered. "And a slice of lemon drizzle, if you want it?"
"Just the coffee is lovely, thank you," I managed.
As she scurried away for the final time, Nicky leaned back, eyeing me with that look—the one that said she was trying very hard not to find this hilarious. "Well. That was a grand finale."
"It’s a metaphor," I muttered, reaching for the new cup. "My life is literally a series of hot messes being dumped on me when I least expect it."
I took a sip, forgetting for a split second that it was fresh off the machine.
The liquid scalded my tongue instantly. I hissed, pulling back and closing my eyes as the stinging heat settles into a dull throb.
I could feel the drying coffee tightening on my skin, the phantom buzz of my phone in my pocket reminding me of my cancelled date, and the lingering scent of Alex’s perfume in my memory that I just couldn’t seem to shake.
I leaned my head back, staring up at the industrial-style light fittings above us.
My life is hell.