Page 66 of Unnecessary Drama

‘Okay,’ he says. ‘So…’

‘So we’re friends. We’re back to being friends,’ I say. Being friends, I have decided, is the best and safest way forward. As long as I don’t think about any of our history, the kiss, the way I feel, as long as all of that is safely bottled up, being friends will be easy.

‘Good,’ Jesse says, nodding. ‘Good.’

I see his eyes land on the legs of the dog that are sticking out from under my pillow, wearing the telltale green dogtor scrubs. I can tell from his expression he knows what it is. Great. Now he’ll think I sleep with it. Which I do sometimes. But I never want him to know that.

He looks like he’s working himself up to say something else, but suddenly there’s a scream, followed by another, and a smash, and someone yells, ‘Brooke!’

28

Lauren is sitting on the couch, clutching her hand, which is bleeding.

‘There was a mouse!’ she shrieks. ‘It ran that way.’ She points down the hallway and blood drips from her hand, adding a new shade of red to the wine stain on the carpet.

‘What happened?’ I say.

Everyone starts yelling at once. Apparently, Lauren was going to attempt a handstand with Henry and Kendra holding her legs and Penny supporting her butt and Tristan filming, when mid-manoeuvre they all saw the mouse and everyone freaked out. In the chaos, someone smashed a tray of glasses and Lauren rolled into the smashed glass.

‘It touched my foot!’ Kendra is yelling about the mouse.

‘Babe, no it didn’t. That was me,’ Tristan is saying.

‘Get me a bandage, and we can still do the handstand. Quick, before I lose momentum,’ Lauren says.

‘Show me your hand,’ I say.

This isn’t my first rodeo. Lauren was once drunk and walked on broken glass and I had to pick the shards out of her feet. I feel a sense of almost calm settle over me. I knew something was going to happen to Lauren, because something always happens to Lauren, it’s just a matter of what it is and how bad it is. And now it has happened, and it is this—a small, manageable thing—and I can deal with it.

‘It’ll be fine,’ she says.

‘It looks deep,’ I say, grabbing the roll of paper towel and tearing off sheets to hold against it.

‘Brooke—’

I interrupt her. ‘Just let me handle it, okay?’ I say and she shakes her head and flops back against the couch.

‘My parents are doctors. I can help,’ Tristan says.

‘Your parents are psychologists,’ I reply.

‘I have first-aid training,’ Henry says.

‘That’s more helpful,’ I say, making room for him on the couch.

‘Well, I mean, I did the course online, and they sent me a PDF afterwards. Let me just find it in my emails. I might need a quick refresher,’ Henry says, a lot less sure when he sees the blood.

‘It’s barely a scratch,’ Lauren says, but I shush her and look at Jesse. ‘Can you get the first-aid kit?’

‘We have a first-aid kit?’ he says.

‘Yes, in the kitchen. In the medicine cabinet.’

‘We have a medicine cabinet?’

‘Jesse, please.’

‘I’m sorry, this is all news to me!’ He throws his hands in the air.