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Tonight is trivia night with some of the girls from the hospital. We try to go at least once a month, sometimes more if we can. It’s difficult to manage, because Gemma is newly married and Chelsea has a two-year old at home.
“Ladies! I’m baaaack! Now the fun can begin!” sings Paige as she plops down next to me on the dark red booth, sloshing her fruity Cosmo all over my arm.
“Paige, you cow!” I laugh. “Strawberry whatever-that-is won’t come out of this blouse!”
Paige is our token wild child. She’s the one you call for a great time, and she never disappoints. Tonight, she’s been chatting up every fit guy in the bar, getting free drinks sent over for the lot of us more than once. You’d never know she was a sensitive, caring pediatric nurse by the way she acts when we’re out.
“C’mon El, cruise the pub with me! There’s loads of hot guys here tonight,” Paige whines. “I need my wing-woman!”
“No!” I joke, gently pushing her back so she won’t spill on me again. “I want to win this. We’re in the lead.” I show her our trivia scorecard. “See, only one more round to go.”
“Tosh! You’re such a party pooper, Ellie.” Paige scrunches up her adorable nose and pouts her lips at me. Her straight black hair sleeked back into a high ponytail and her slightly tilted dark eyes hint at her Asian heritage, but this girl is all Brit when it comes to personality.
“After the game, I promise.” I smile and bat my eyelashes playfully.
She brightens up immediately. “Yay!” Paige claps her hands and beams, “Ellie’s gonna chat up some guys with me!”
“Oh lord,” says Gemma, “you realize you’ve created a monster.”
“Me? It’s her mum and dad that’s created her. I just… feed it once in a while,” I tell my friends who immediately crack up. We’re all laughing when the quizmaster announces the beginning of round four.
“Okay ladies, get ready,” I say seriously, pretending to crack my knuckles. “I want to win that prize.”
“Oh come off it El, it’s a sodding six-pack of beer!” says Chelsea who is rolling her eyes at me but grinning widely, her curly blonde hair falling out of it’s clip and into her face.
“Still, it’s the glory, not the beer that is the true prize at trivia night,” I explain to another round of eye rolls.
“Ladies and gentlemen, final round. First question…”
We go back and forth, debating different answers to the nine questions posed so far in the final round. By the time we get to the last question, our team is neck and neck with a group of guys a few tables over.
“You’re not going to win, ladies!” one of the more attractive guys calls over to us.
“Shut it hot stuff!” Paige shouts, embarrassing us all with her very loud flirting.
“Jeez Paige, take out an ad why don’t you,” hisses Gemma. “You’re totally legless right now!”
Chelsea and I giggle into our hands so we won’t encourage Paige’s bad behavior.
“Alright! Final question for showbiz night at the Red Door!” the quizmaster announces. “It’s a tough one…. Okay, here it is. What secondary school in London was attended by two members of the band, Sphere of Irony?”
Time seems to stop as all of the blood in my body rushes to my feet, leaving me suddenly dizzy, with only the whooshing sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Drinking beer all night had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now? I feel queasy and lightheaded enough to faint despite my racing pulse.
Am I going to pass out? Cry? Scream? All of the above?
“El? Are you alright?” Chelsea asks, probably having noticed my gaping mouth and blanched face. “You don’t look well.”
“I-I-I need to go,” I snatch up my handbag and struggle to get out of the booth before I do anything embarrassing or worse. My friends don’t know about Adam, nor do they know where I grew up. It’s too painful to think about let alone discuss with anyone.
“Ellie? What’s going on?” Gemma asks, grabbing my arm so I can’t leave. The worried expression on her face nearly makes me lose it right then.
“Please,” I beg, willing my friend not to push the issue. Tears are stinging the back of my eyes, ready to unleash at any second. Gemma must understand because she releases me, no further questions asked.
Then she changes her mind and pulls me into a hug. She whispers in my ear, “You be safe and ring me if you need to talk, okay?”
I nod into her shoulder and flee the pub the second she lets go. Stumbling out into the crisp late autumn air, I suck in several deep breaths before I regain enough composure to walk the short distance to the tube station. Tears run silently down my cheeks and I swipe at them randomly as they fall. I’m twenty-nine years old and I’m still hung up on Adam Fucking Reynolds. I’ll never be rid of him or this feeling of emptiness, even though I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since our hotel rendezvous three years ago.
The train glides to a stop in front of me and I shuffle in with the other weary passengers as the voice tells me to ‘mind the gap’. I drop into a seat and close my eyes, thinking about how I ended my relationship with James earlier this year, about a month after the Grammys and the talk with my mum. Ended it for myself, but also for a man I’ll never have and never see again.
