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I shrug. When I’m on the phone to my best friend, we don’t have long to speak. I’m only interested in finding out what she’s been up to and I don’t want to waste time talking about myself any more than I have to. “She’s just a work colleague.”
“She seems fond of you.” Mallory has a weird look on her face that I can’t read. Maybe it’s because Sophie was standoffish.
“Yes. I’ve told her I’m not interested in anything romantic with her.”
“Why?” She scowls.
She’s not you. “She’s not my type.”
“I guess it would be strange dating someone like yourself. Just think how many fur babies you’d have.” Her words seem light, but her expression is full of distaste.
“We have a few things in common like our love for animals. She’s local to Leeds and she likes the same movies as I do, but it’s not wise to date a co-worker.”
“Oh, so you’ve been to the movies together, and probably shopping looking at you both. You have the same dress sense, although she’s not as pretty as you.”
I blush. She’s being nice rather than flirting, but it still quickens my pulse. “We’ve been out a few times… as friends.”
She nods.
The line slowly goes down as we make our way to the bar. We get two plastic cups filled with red wine and take them to the main stage. A guy with a huge camera signals he wants to take our picture. Mallory hugs me tight as we smile at the lens. He gives us a card to look him up online so we can find the photo before moving on to his next shot.
The large speakers beside the stage blast out a heavy base between different entertainers. We listen to the music and tribute acts. The alcohol goes down a little too easily and day turns into night as we party the hours away.
CHAPTER4
MALLORY
There’sno way I can hide it. I’m drunk as a skunk and ready to sing some karaoke. I love The New Penny. It’s the oldest gay bar in Leeds and has the best atmosphere for making a fool of yourself. Flicking through the book of songs, I findSpice Up Your Lifeby the Spice Girls. I put in my song request and go back to stand with Lara.
“Are you having a good time?” I ask, feeling myself swaying from side to side.
“Yes. I’ve loved spending the day with you and wish you weren’t leaving tomorrow.” She hugs me tightly. Guilt pulls at my heartstrings, but I shut it out. I’ve missed spending time with her too… not that I’m going to admit it.
“We’ve got tonight, though. You could sing with me if you want to add some spice to your life.” It’s hot in here, and she’s finally opened the top button of her dress.
“You did not request to sing a Spice Girls song.” She loves nineties pop, and it’s part of the reason I chose it.
“Oh, but I did, and I’m going to be the queen of pop while I light the stage up.” I show her my jazz hands, wiggling my fingers in the air.
The song finishes and we clap at the group of girls who have just sung one of Dua Lipa’s hits. My name is announced over the microphone, and I try to pull Lara up to the front with me. That was quick considering how busy it is in here. Lara stands her ground, refusing to budge from the bar.
“No way. I’m not doing it.” She shakes her head.
“Do it for me.” I give her my best cute pout, but it’s not softening her stance.
“No.” She starts to pull away.
The guy with the microphone shouts my name again. I frown at Lara before letting go. Slowly, I make my way to the front, onto the small stage, and take the mic. There’s a small television with a blue screen. My head spins, but it’s not from nerves. My vision is a little fuzzy around the edges, so there’s no way I’m going to be able to read the words on the tiny screen. Lucky, I think I know them all.
The festival sounds start with the introduction to the song, and I bust some moves. I start to sing and the words come flowing out. Shaking my bootie, I get into the song, and the crowd cheers. Even if I was terrible, these people would cheer, which isn’t a bad thing. I’m on the last verse of the song and I step towards the audience, loving the vibe. Unfortunately, I miscalculate the edge. My right ankle buckles, and I’m stumbling out of control. One minute, I’m dancing, the next, I’m falling. A guy tries to catch me, but it’s too late. My foot hits the main dancefloor as I slide off the stage. My ankle gives way again and I go down like a sack of potatoes. Even drunk, the pain is unbearable. I let out a scream before my vision goes black.
* * *
People crowd around me as I come to. Lara grabs my arm, shaking me for a response. Her eyes are watery, although I’m not sure why she’s had such a strong reaction.
“I’m fine,” I say, trying to shake off some of the embarrassment.
“Are you sure? Did you hit your head?” She touches my shoulder, but I can barely feel it. I’m probably still in shock.
