‘Probably in the hall where you left them, just hurry up.’
‘What’s the bloody rush?’ I ask. ‘I could use a coffee, at least. Some food? I feel like garbage.’
‘Nick, I am having people over this afternoon. They cannot see you here.’
I climb out of bed butt naked and walk into the hall, grabbing my crumpled clothes.
‘By “people”, I take it you mean your new boyfriend? I saw the Instagram posts.’
‘That’s none of your business.’
‘I’ll take that as a yes. Didn’t take you long to move on, did it?’
‘For your information, Dale is not my boyfriend, he’s just a friend.’
‘Dale?’ I start to snigger. ‘Jesus, that’s not even a proper name, it’s a landform.’
She watches me pull on my trousers and sighs. ‘Nick, I don’t know if you were hoping for some sort of reunion here but—’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, a reunion?’ I exclaim. ‘I was just hoping for a bit of toast. You really do flatter yourself, Ange; the amount I had to drink, you could have been anyone.’
‘Like Sarah?’
I stop fastening my trousers. ‘What?’
‘Sarah. You mumbled the shit out of her name in your sleep.’
I feel my cheeks burn. Thank God I wasn’t passed out anywhere near Matt.
‘She’s just a friend,’ I mutter, lifting my phone out of one of my shoes. My braces are missing in action.
‘I didn’t ask who she was,’ Angela informs me, ‘I just wanted to make it clear that nothing between us has changed. I’m glad we’ve both found new friends, though.’
‘God, you’re infuriating,’ I reply. ‘Please be nicer to your next pushover.’
‘OH, I WILL! Wait. He’s not—’
‘Bye, Angela.’
Uber ordered; Angela practically drop-kicks me out of her flat, shoes in hand. On New Year’s Day, rides are limited so I’m forced to hang out in a freezing cold hallway for forty minutes before it eventually arrives. A tiny part of me wants Dale to show up and see me here, but in my current condition I’m in no state for any kind of confrontation. I just want to get home and forget this ever happened – but not before I kill Matt for not dragging me away from her the moment the tequila kicked in.
As I do my walk of shame from the Uber to the flat, Matt’s already holding the flat door open for me, grinning.
‘Mate. . .’ he begins, his laughter already bubbling over.
‘Don’t!’ I reply, pushing past him towards the bathroom. ‘Just get the kettle on.’
I throw my clothes on to the floor and run the water, hoping to wash away any remnants of last night’s blurry hook-up. God, is that lipstick on my—
‘Can’t believe you did that!’ I hear him yell from the hall. ‘There must have been at least a thousand other women there.’
‘The real question here is how could you let me?’I yell from the shower, his laughter still showing no signs of subsiding. ‘Ugh, I feel violated.’
‘Dude, I couldn’t find you for the last hour and then I saw your face glued to hers in the taxi queue. You looked completely into it. I wouldn’t cock-block my best mate.’
The words ‘best mate’ make me wince a little knowing that I’ve been sleep-talking about his girlfriend. It’s making me feel like even more of a shithead. Sarah will be back in a couple of days and hopefully she will have grown tentacles and had a personality bypass because I need something to turn me off.
Matt makes some French toast while I dry off, informing me that Dale is a footballer whose track record with blondes is worse than his.
