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“She is so you, but that’s a good thing. She’s raw, real. You can tell what she’s feeling at a glance—her personality leaps off the page. I love that her superpower is her mind, Yoda-style persuasion, thought control. I wouldn’t change a thing—”
Alex’s muted phone, tethered to the wall by Lucy’s charger, lit up with a text. She froze, staring at the glowing screen on the arm of the loveseat.
“I turned it on…just in case.” Lucy raised her eyebrows.
Alex set Lucy’s drawings on the table and peered at the screen. “It’s…Dad. I-I can’t. He’ll want me to put Mark on the phone, wish him a happy anniversary…” She swallowed hard, unmuted the volume, and yanked the phone from the charger. The screen lit up: sixteen texts from Mark.
“You don’t have to answer that—you don’t have to do anything. Just stay here and chill.”
“Won’t Charlie be home soon?”
“He’s not back until the third, and even then, he can kip on the loveseat if you want to stay—” Lucy’s phone buzzed. She shoved it aside.
Alex sat down on the chair beside Lucy. “Harry didn’t have to leave.”
“Nah, he did. He’s expected at his parents’ annual New Year’s Day supper.”
“And who made you Harry’s social secretary?”
“Yeah, well, it’s just sex. I’m sure it won’t last. Let’s face it: he’s destined to be with an Olivia, not a Lucy.”
“Oh, shut up. You’re talented, funny, and gorgeous. I’d kill for your boobs, and you’re the most caring person I’ve ever met.” A soft smile fought Alex’s cheeks, still tight from crying. “I’d choose a Lucy over an Olivia any day.”
“Aw, babe, thanks. Sorry I didn’t tell you. Me and Harry…is uncharted territory, and you’re so protective of him. It’s felt a bit…weird, you know? Almost too close to home?”
“Like dating my brother?” Alex smirked.
“Argh! I knew that comment would come back to bite me.”
“Wow, you’re dating my Harry. I love seeing friends fall for each other…no awkwardness—”
“Yeah, until we break up…”
Alex’s face fell.
“Oh, fuck. My big mouth.”
Alex swallowed and set her phone on the table. “So…when did you go off Charlie?”
“After I shagged him.”
“What?!”
“Yeah. It was only once, in October. Turns out he’s a typical City boy, all mouth and no trousers. He went at me like a jackhammer, rolled off after two minutes, and fell asleep. Talk about rubbish. I have thongs that are more stimulating.”
“Well, good. You two together made me think of some pervy Peanuts comic, ‘Charlie and Lucy’—” The Sherlock theme erupted from Alex’s phone.
“Mark?”
“No, Dad again.” She smiled at Lucy. “So, all Charlie left you with was a broken headboard and a hickey to wear to Tom and Naomi’s wedding?”
Lucy furrowed her brows, glancing at her friend’s phone. “Lex, maybe you should call your Dad back.”
Alex crossed her arms. “Well?”
“You mean my straightener burn?” Lucy smirked. “Nope, Harry’s work.”
“What…?” Alex’s finger poked her phone’s calendar, counting weeks. “That means you two have been at it…” Her eyes bulged. “…for eight weeks?”
