“Oh, one of my so-called friends is giving me grief over not throwing a party this weekend.”
“Do you want to? You don’t have to come over tomorrow evening if you’d rather party with your friends.”
I hold his hand. “I’d rather spend my time with you. And Casey. When’s he getting home anyway?”
“Any second. It’ll depend on how long he had to wait for a bus. Stop changing the subject.”
“You think I’m one of the cool, popular kids from your movies, right?”
“You are.”
The door opens, and Casey slips inside. Without a word, he takes his shoes and coat off while I plough on.
“Are they lonely? Are they surrounded by a bunch of fake friends? Because I’ve realised that’s who I am. You and Casey are the first real friends I’ve made since coming to university, and probably for a long time before that.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Emory says.
I wave my phone. “It is. The guy who was texting me didn’t even know my name. He thought I was called Ollie, for fuck’s sake.”
“I’m sorry.” Emory pulls me into a hug.
Casey sits on the other side of me and presses his hand against my shoulder blade in a comforting gesture. I think of the way he asked for a hug the night of the fake date. The urge to ask him for one now rises inside me. I would love his arms around me, along with Emory’s.
“I’m a slacker and a loser.”
“You’re not. You’re amazing,” Emory says fiercely.
My phone beeps and vibrates in my hand. Grant’s name flashes up. I’m tempted to block his arse. I’ve known him since Freshers Week. How could he not have known my name? He’s sent me another photo, this time of two guys kissing.
Grant
They want to join the party too.
No party. You guys have fun. I’ll see you around.
I turn my phone off and put it face down on the coffee table. I grab a handful of sweet popcorn and pop a couple of pieces in Emory’s mouth. “You promised me a movie night.”
“You’re changing the subject again.”
“I am. Because I want to relax and have fun with two wonderful guys who aren’t going to accuse me of being boring because I don’t want to party.”
“If you’re boring, then we are too,” Casey says.
“Let’s be boring together,” Emory says.
I laugh. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than be boring with the two of you.” I stuff the popcorn into my mouth and then put my arms over their shoulders. “Is this okay?” I ask Casey, painfully aware that, unlike Emory, he is not my boyfriend, and while I know he’s tactile with Emory, he might not want to be with me.
“It’s nice.” He rests his head against my shoulder. He smells of chlorine and shampoo. “Is this okay?”
I smile. “Very okay.”
Emory does the same. He also puts his arm over my waist, hugging me while holding Casey’s hand. He uses the remote to turn the film on, then jumps up and switches the light off.
“Do you want me to fall asleep?” Casey asks.
“No. I thought it would be cosier with the light off.”
“I like cosy,” I say.
