4
‘So did you start to think it was a bad idea before or after you stuck your tongue down her throat?’ I ask, taking a sip from my too-sweet airport coffee and raising my eyebrows at him over the rim.
‘Stuck your tongue down whose throat?’ Tilly asks, as she rejoins us after taking a trip to the bathroom. Her eyes dart from mine to David’s, lingering on the latter’s.
‘Polly’s, of course,’ David replies, like it’s a silly question. But given Tilly’s hangover this morning, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d forgotten.
‘And definitely before,’ he says, returning to my question. ‘I knew it was a bad idea the moment I didn’t leave the club as soon as I saw her.’ Then he goes on to give me all the details of the kiss with his ex that I’m still bummed I missed out on.
Only semi-bummed though. My night had its perks too.
‘But less about David and Polly because that is seriously old news and none of us liked her anyway,’ Tilly huffs, one hand massaging her temples as if it’ll make her hangover go away faster.
She hasn’t told me yet the details of how her night progressed after I’d left, but I can assume it was a late one from her dark eyebags and how her usually bouncy ginger curls are thrown into a chaotic bun.
‘Um, I did,’ I cut in, continuing the conversation about Polly, because it’s true.
She may have been a bit of an airhead, but Polly was sweet. Definitely better than the majority of other girls David dated while we were at uni, and that list is long.
‘And me, she was my girlfriend,’ David adds.
Tilly scoffs at the last word. ‘Girlfriend in the loosest sense of the word, you dated for a month.’
David scowls at her, his eyebrows dipping under the rim of his tortoise-shell glasses. ‘Says you, when’s the last time you even went on a date?’
‘I don’t know, David, when did you?’ she shoots back, adding extra emphasis to his name.
I zone out, too caught up in my own thoughts to care as two of them squabble over the technicalities of what constitutes a relationship.
I’ve learnt through the years that it’s not worth getting involved when those two are going full throttle.
Bickering is the foundation of their friendship, whether that makes sense to me or not.
‘Anyway,’ Tilly continues, pulling me back into the conversation with a pinch on my arm. ‘I want to hear all about your night, little miss secretive. I thought you were coming back to the club, then you text and tell me you’re at some other guy’s place!’
Tilly stares at me with her arms crossed, and fingers drumming against the fluffy blue fleece jacket she’s wearing. I can’t help being jealous of the fact she’s in what can only be described as a wearable duvet whilst she’s impatiently waiting for me to spill the details.
We’ve barely made it past the doors of Departures at Gatwick airport, but I know I need to fill her in quickly before a certain someone arrives. I would’ve filled her in this morning when I arrived back, but she was so tired she was worried she wouldn’t remember it and told me to wait until later.
‘Okay, do you want to hear the good news first or the bad news?’
‘Oh god, let me guess. Good news: big dick. Bad news: shit kisser?’
She winces, and I know we’re both thinking back to the last guy she slept with where that was the sad reality.
‘Not far off on the good news front,’ I reply. ‘In fact, he wasn’t the problem at all. He was seriously hot, body like the guys who make it onto magazine covers, zero inhibitions and also sort of a gentleman. He made me a cup of tea.’
‘Okay, weird, but we’ll roll with it,’ David says, brushing that last bit off. ‘I’m not catching onto the bad news here.’
‘It was me,’ I say, gesturing down at myself in my Primark matching tracksuit set. Airport comfort clothing at its finest. ‘I was the bad news.’
‘Babe, I know you haven’t slept with that many guys because of your saga with he-who-shall-not-be-named, but we kissed when we were drunk once and you were great! Don’t be insecure!’ Tilly pats me on the shoulder but I shrug her off.
‘Thank you, but no, it’s not that. The issue was, I may have ended up blabbering about Adam to him. And there may have been some… crying.’
‘You cried!’ David’s face bugs in disbelief, his head moving so suddenly some of his buttery blonde curls fall over his face.
‘Just a few tears! And then we fucked and it was great.’
An understatement, but I don’t want to admit to them that sex with this near-stranger was as good as sex with my boyfriend of seven years.
‘And then I fell asleep and I escaped this morning because as amazing as the latter part of the evening was, I was also straight-up mortified. He must’ve thought I was a trainwreck.
It was only in the morning that I realised, even if he hid it well, the night had pity sex written all over it.
I had to get back in time for our taxi anyway, so I slipped out while he was still sleeping. ’
Tilly grimaces on my behalf before reassuringly rubbing her hand up and down my arm. ‘Bright side, at least you never have to see him again.’
‘Never have to see who again?’
We all turn around towards the voice I know best in the world.
The voice I’ve heard telling me it loves me countless times, but that I’ve now also heard moaning another girl’s name from inside my own bedroom.
I wish I could say hearing his voice makes me feel nothing, but the fact is, it’s making me feel a lot.
A lot of anger, sadness, a hint of regret, but there’s still that treacherous shred of me that knows when I turn and look at him, I’ll feel an undeniable pull. One I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist over the next two weeks, even if I know I should.
He’s the only guy I’ve ever loved, the person I thought I’d end up being with forever, even though our relationship was at times one spark shy of a nuclear disaster.
But love’s supposed to be a rollercoaster, right?
And it never mattered before when the drops came, because we’d always climb our way back up again.
I steel myself before turning, catching sight of him in a navy hoodie I’ve worn countless times.
The hoodie makes me think of the black T-shirt I slept in last night that belonged to another man.
Having Adam in front of me makes me feel a pang of guilt for my actions that hadn’t hit me before now.
Until this moment, thinking back on the events of last night had filled me with a feeling of exhilaration, tears and all.
But now it’s muddied with the notion that I’ve done something wrong, even though that’s bullshit given the fact that whatever I did, he did first.
His blue eyes are still glazed with sleep because he’s not a morning person, and he’s got a travelling rucksack hooked over one shoulder, one of those ones everyone gets when they go interrailing, and he’s dragging a ski bag behind him because of course he owns his own skis.
He moves closer to us until he’s standing right in front of me, shadowing me with his six-foot frame to my five-three.
‘Hey, Lotts, you look really cute this morning.’
His greeting leaves me staring up at him in confused silence.
All I do is blink, repeatedly. Then I feel the telltale blush rising up my cheeks, and if I let myself, things will feel like normal again.
His voice waking me up in the morning. His voice greeting me when I get back from another long day at work.
Then I remember everything that’s happened, and I can’t believe the nerve of this guy!
We broke up mere weeks ago, have barely spoken since, and here he comes with his big opening line saying I look ‘really cute’?
‘Oh hi, man-who-doesn’t-understand-monogamy,’ I shoot back at him along with an ice-cold glare.
He sighs, realising it won’t be as easy this time to get me to take him back.
I may be being a little over the top, I know what he did ‘technically’ wasn’t cheating, but if you have to consider the technicalities of an action to justify it, it’s clearly something you shouldn’t have done in the first place.
I have a right to be angry, and in this moment, I want him to know that’s how I feel. To see how what he did has affected me.
‘For the hundredth time, Lotts, we’d broken up.’
‘Had we? Besides, it had been three days, Adam. Three.’ My voice is harsh and my throat feels tight as I squeeze out the words.
He looks down at me like I’m a wounded animal he’s found in the woods. Like he wants to save me, but it’s his fault I feel like this.
‘Lottie, can we go someplace and talk about this?’
Tilly steps in front of me, a wall between the two of us, and I’m grateful to have her in my corner.
‘By all means say what you need to say, Adam, we’re all friends here,’ Tilly says, taking her place at my side with her arms folded.
‘Wish I had some popcorn for this,’ David mutters from behind me, and I suppress a smile at his attempt to defuse the situation.
Adam’s focus shifts between the three of us, resigned. It’s always grated on him how close we are, as if having best friends meant I had less time or space for him. I swear he saw David as competition for years, even though it’s obvious he’s been secretly pining for Tilly since Freshers’ Week.
Or at least, that’s my theory for why they bicker the way that they do. They’re either flirting, or they really do constantly get on each other’s nerves.
But back to Adam, who’s tugging a hand through his unruly hair, which looks frustratingly good today. Mid-brown, adorably messy on the top in a way that should take ages to style, but I know is like that naturally.
‘Fine, I’m not embarrassed to say it. Lottie, you know how much I care about you. I’m sorry about what happened but believe me that it meant nothing.’
‘Oh, so you going out for dinner with her the night after you were caught also meant nothing?’
He studies my friends to figure out who the culprit is, settling on David, who shrugs his shoulders.
‘You weren’t exactly subtle about it, dude,’ he says, not denying he’s the one who told me.