Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-One
The one where he leant me his sexy coat again
On our twenty-sixth birthdays, Adam agreed to host our new year’s party in his first-floor flat in London. By this point, many of our friends from school and university were off doing other things but we’d picked up a few strays along the way from our jobs, clubs and general living.
I wasn’t sure about city life.
It was full of people but it didn’t feel like there was any sort of community.
It often struck me how you could share a lift with someone from the same building once or twice a week but never ask them their name.
I found myself falling into those same unsociable habits, trying to fit in and not draw attention to myself.
I got an admin job at an art gallery in the city but was uninspired by the strange, abstract work that they sold there, and the insane money people were willing to spend on it.
When Adam suggested we have the party at his, I almost couldn’t believe it.
He was protective of his modern, shiny flat to say the least. Of course, there did turn out to be an agenda and a very clear reason why I was only meant to bring about six of my own friends.
And that was because he’d invited his work mates.
At least ten of them because he wanted to schmooze someone who could help get him a promotion.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made my birthday about him in some way.
I guess because that’s exactly what he’d done.
But it didn’t matter because I was seeing Sam for the first time since I’d moved to London weeks ago. We were going to get shitfaced together and party like we were teenagers again.
An hour or so into the party, we were huddled around the TV playing the moustache drinking game on the music channel.
Essentially, you put a stick-on moustache on the TV and every time a person looks like they’re wearing it, you drink.
A few of us were standing to work in crucial dance moves, some were perched on the edge of the sofa, and Sara knelt on the hardwood floor to be closest to the bottle of tequila for refills.
“My knees have dealt with worse!” she yelled, cackling.
Only our friendship group found that funny. Not Adam’s friends. Or Adam, for that matter. They were all too busy judging our rowdy behaviour from the kitchen island.
I didn’t care. I was turning twenty-six in less than two hours. So, fuck it!
Rihanna bobbed into the moustache on the screen whilst holding her umbrella.
“DRINK!” Sara yelled.
Priya managed to snort whilst sipping and some of it came out of her nose, which had us all cracking up, including her new girlfriend, Izzy. She got our vibe. She was a keeper.
Sam was noticeably drunk. He’d had a tough few years, flitting in and out of careers.
Falling in and out of love with people. Then there was his tough relationship with his dad and brother.
So, I didn’t make too much of it, taking a mental note that he would need some care in the morning.
We had makeshift beds to spread out on the living room floor for those who needed to stay the night.
Half an hour until midnight, I felt a hand on my elbow and turned to find Adam. I smiled, leaning into him, but his posture was rigid. I looked up to find his jaw was set. Brushing myself off, I maintained my smile and said, “What’s wrong?”
“You know what’s wrong,” he said, his voice level but low. If anyone looked over, they would have seen a normal conversation between a loving couple. Sometimes, I thought that was the most dangerous thing about Adam – his ability to be angry but look fine.
I shuffled, peeking over at Sara, who’d caught my eye and wouldn’t turn away.
She was protective like that, but I prayed she’d stay out of it.
I could handle Adam. He would just be disappointed for a few days.
Maybe twenty-four hours of silence. It wasn’t a big deal.
It just made me feel numb and vulnerable for a bit.
“I think you and your friends have had plenty to drink. It’s time to cut them off,” he said, staring at me like he was hoping for a reaction.
I shrugged. “Ok. It’s nearly midnight anyway. And we’re just having fun.”
“Yeah. Fun at my expense.”
“Has somebody done something to upset you?”
“You’re just embarrassing, Hattie. Acting like a child.”
I ground my teeth. I wanted to tell him he was being no fun, to lighten up. But this was his flat and it wasn’t fair to ruin his evening. That promotion meant a lot to him in a way I could never understand but tried to respect.
So, I forced out, “I’m sorry. I’ll get them to rein it in.”
But it wasn’t a task I could achieve, and I think Adam knew that. Priya and Izzy were making out on the sofa. My friend from work had already been tactically sick so they could clean off the last bottle of prosecco and Sam…
Well, Sam was dancing around the living space, pumping his hands above his head and at some point, in the last few minutes, had taken his top off.
I was about to rush over and see if I could get some water down him, but he tripped next to the large, open window. Adam’s friend was close enough to reach out and stop him, but he didn’t. He laughed instead.
As if in slow motion, I watched Sam disappear into the dark street below.
My mind went to the darkest parts of my imagination as I sprinted over, my heart throbbing in my chest.
Sara was beside me in a split second, holding onto my arm like I might fall too. Sam was lying face up. He blinked then touched his head.
“I can’t fly, Hatter!” he called up.
I laugh-cried as I shot towards the door to the stairs. I’m sure Adam sputtered something about it being my fault, but I didn’t care. With Sara, Priya and Izzy hot on my heels, we rounded the place where Sam had fallen.
He was still lying there, and some kind passersby had waited with him to prevent him being run over. My heart was hammering as I knelt down beside him, the icy tarmac biting into my knees thanks to my stupidly skimpy, black minidress.
Sam was half-laughing, half-delirious.
“Where’s the pain?” I asked, checking him over. There wasn’t any obvious blood, but he also hadn’t moved.
Sara gave me a worried glance before standing to call for an ambulance.
“This is going to be the worst hangover I’ve ever had,” he said, nodding to himself.
“Sam. The pain? Where’s the pain?”
He scrunched up his face. “Everywhere, pretty much,” he croaked.
When the ambulance arrived, they let me travel with him to the hospital.
It was chaos inside. A&E was heaving with partygoers.
After seeing about ten doctors and being whizzed off for at least three different types of scans, they declared Sam a lucky, drunken idiot who had managed to only break bones for what could’ve been a fatal accident.
I finally managed to get hold of his mum once he’d fallen asleep, adrift on alcohol and painkillers.
He was allocated a quiet ward so I curled up as best as I could into the uncomfortable hospital chair and hoped they didn’t kick me out.
At some point during the early hours of New Year’s Day, I stirred, the yellow fluorescents glaring at me from the ceiling. I checked on Sam, who was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling softly. I’d never seen my friend attached to all the machines before. I felt uneasy and useless.
It was another moment before I realised someone had draped a thick, wool trench coat over me. I was still curled up on the chair. There were pins and needles in my feet and lower legs, so I hopped up to try and shake them out.
I held the weighty coat up as the sensation returned. My brain was slow with sleep, but recognition gradually returned to me. It wasn’t until its owner popped his head back through the curtains that my heart started racing.
“Oh,” I said. “You’re here.”
Freddie frowned, passing me a cup of something. “I am.”
“I didn’t think you would come. Sam said you two aren’t talking at the moment.”
He grimaced. “Mum was too drunk to drive but I was just having a quiet one, so she called me.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
He was in a loose, grey, gym sweater, but I could see the outline of his toned arms when he stretched like that.
I tried to keep my face passive but gnawed on my bottom lip anyway.
“Which was a big surprise since she hasn’t been speaking to me for a while either.
It’s actually nice to finally see Sam,” he said.
“Took falling out of a window,” I muttered, then immediately felt like the biggest bitch on the planet.
Freddie dropped his arms to his side. His expression melted into sadness, and he blinked away. “It probably looks that way.”
He dragged a chair into the cubicle and sat, not taking his eyes off his baby brother. He looked haunted. Dark skin under his eyes and pale lips. I took a seat too and sipped the hot chocolate he’d brought me. I wondered how or if he knew I didn’t drink coffee.
“Could this have been avoided?” he asked, his voice its usual gruffness. It didn’t sound like he was blaming me but more himself. He wasn’t even there.
I stared at Sam for a second. I didn’t know what he’d want me to share with Freddie. He hadn’t explained enough about their fall out. Would he be cross with me for talking to him? Or being honest about how he’d been recently?
I offered Freddie his coat back, which was on the back of the chair, but he shook his head. “You need it more,” he said. “You looked cold.”
So, he’d noticed my minidress then. I thanked him and wrapped it over myself again. Something about the action made him swallow and drop eye contact. I checked my phone to make myself seem unbothered. No calls from Adam. No messages. Nothing.
Sara, on the other hand, needed consoling. I sent her a quick response.
“Sam’s been struggling,” I said finally. “But I don’t know what I should be telling you. I don’t know what he’d want you to know.”
Freddie’s face didn’t change but he nodded. “You’re a good friend to him.”