One
It’stwenty minutes to midnight on New Year’s Eve, and I’m thinking about the Ugly Sisters fromCinderella. Or one of them, at least.
Okay, it’s me. I’m thinking about me.I’mthe Ugly Sister; only Cinderella isn’t actually my sister — she’s my best friend. And her name isn’t Cinderella, funnily enough; it’s Chloe. Oh, and while we’re at it, we’re not in some fancy palace, either. We’re in a ‘fun’ pub calledDiamondsin Margate.
No one ever writes fairy tales about places like that, though, do they?
Even so, everything else more or less scans. There’s even a handsome prince, who’s currently standing by the bar, looking like he’s about to film a commercial for an aftershave calledTitan,orConquest, or something else reeking of toxic masculinity. He’s got one of those ‘chiseled’ kind of faces that are so perfect they almost don’t look real, and if I were to get close enough, I just know he’d smell like leather and wood-smoke, and all the broken hearts he’s left behind him.
Not that I’m going to get close enough, obviously. My heart is in no danger, because I know I’m just here in my role of Ugly Sister — I mean,friend— and the first rule of the Ugly Friend is ‘Know Thine Place’. Sure enough, before I can finish the sticky glass of liquid that passes for wine here inDiamonds, Chloe’s grabbing my hand and pulling me up onto the tiny dance-floor that’s supposed to be the ‘fun’ part of this place.
“Come on, Summer,” she hisses, flipping her glossy blonde hair over her shoulder, then checking to make sure Prince Charming has noticed. “Just one dance, I promise.”
I follow her reluctantly into the crowd. I hate New Year’s Eve. All that pressure to have the best nightever. All those random strangers you have to hug. The blind panic that descends when the countdown begins and you’re forced to stand there pretending to be having fun when all you can think about is how you can literallyfeeltime running out on another year in which nothing really happened, and oh my God, what if this isit? What if younevermanage to do all the things you wanted to do with your life, and you just find yourself standing here again this timenextyear, as if no time at all has passed and you’re still —
“Summer! Focus!”
Chloe snaps her freshly manicured fingers in my face to get my attention. The nails are long and pointed, like weapons, so there’s no ignoring them.
“This isn’t the time for one of your existential crises,” she yells above the thump of the music. “It’s New Year’s Eve!”
“New Year’s Eve is theperfecttime for an existential crisis,” I tell her, shaking my hips to the beat. “I’ve had three today already. I might try to fit in another one before bed.”
Chloe rolls her eyes, then suddenly narrows them as something behind me catches her attention. She’s cleverly positioned herself so that she’s facing Prince C, so it’s probably him. I wiggle my hips some more, knowing that my time on the dance floor is coming to an end, and I’m about to be replaced, having discharged my Ugly Friend duty to the best of my ability.
“Wait,” Chloe says, her heavily made-up eyes widening in disbelief. “I think he’s looking atyou.”
This statement is so surprising — not to mention unlikely — that it prompts me to turn around to see for myself. And it’strue. Chloe wasn’t just winding me up, like I thought she was. The man of the moment isn’t so muchlookingat me asstaringat me, his soulful brown eyes following me intently as Chloe grabs my hand again and dances into his line of sight.
“Just keep dancing,” she whispers urgently in my ear. “And pretend I’m saying something funny. Comeon, Summer.”
I throw my head back and guffaw with obviously fake laughter as we whirl around the dance floor, looking a bit like rejects fromRiverdance.
“Oh my God,” Chloe says, looking like she wants to slap me. “I think he’s coming over. I think he’s going to ask you to dance.”
She pouts with the annoyance of someone who knows this isn’t the way it’s supposed to happen. Cinderella is the one who gets the guy, not the Ugly Sister. But there he is, putting his glass down on the bar, then striding confidently towards the dance-floor, his intention to break my heart written all over his implausibly handsome face.
The crowds part. The entire room seems to hold its breath. My heart suddenly decides it’s too big for my body and tries to escape through my mouth. I can’t believe this is happening. The most handsome man in the room has pickedme. Me, Summer Brookes: callcenter team leader and professional Ugly Friend. It’s just like a fairy tale — albeit one set in a grim “fun pub” above a tanning salon. I am literally inside theYou Belong With Me Video, at the bit where the guy picks the nerdy girl rather than the cheerleader, and we know her life will never be the same again.
My life will never be the same again.
Thank God for that.
I smile up at him as he reaches me, hoping I don’t have lipstick on my teeth. Time seems to slow down as he leans in, his breath warm on my cheek as he gently brushes the hair back from my ear, and presses his soft lips close so I can hear him over the music.
This is it,I think, trying my best to take a mental snapshot of this moment.This is my moment. I wonder if this bar has CCTV, so I can watch this back later? It’s the only way I’ll believe it actually happened.
“Excuse me,” Prince Charming whispers, his voice just as low and husky as I imagined it would be. “Sorry to bother you, but … would you mind if I danced with your friend? She’s absolutely gorgeous.”
And then I run across the room and jump neatly out of the window, disappearing into the blackness beyond, never to be seen again.
The End.
Except I don’t, obviously. I justwishI could. Instead, I turn roughly the color of a strawberry margarita (Which is a particular skill of mine, and undoubtedly one of the reasons I’m currently single…), then shrug my shoulders as casually as I can manage.
“Sure,” I say, aiming for indifference, but sounding like I’ve just stubbed my toe. “I was just going to the bathroom, anyway. I, er, really need to pee.”
Naturally, the music chooses that exact moment to fade out, which means my intention to take a whiz is announced to everyone on the dance floor.
