It kind of reminds me of what I saw outside the bathroom.
If I do a few shots, will that be burnt from my brain?
The party ends—finally—and several guests plan to kick on to an upmarket pub around the corner. I have no desire to wait forty-five minutes in a line that weaves down the street for the privilege of paying thirty dollars to get in and twenty dollars for a drink, and stand around looking at the same strangers I’ve exhausted myself making small talk with for the last four hours. I bid farewell to a jolly Arthur, and he walks off down the street, leaving me waiting for my ride.
‘How far is the Uber?’ Bee is standing next to me now. Her eyeliner has smudged into the crease of her eyelids, and she has a slightly glazed look.
‘Two minutes. You aren’t kicking on?’
‘William is training in the morning. I don’t want to be up at eight on a Sunday to leave his place with him.’
We don’t speak again until we’re back home. We’re removing our makeup, Bee is removing her contact lenses, we’re brushing our teeth side by side. She keeps sending me furtive little looks in the mirror. Her eyes are narrowed in a way that reminds me strikingly of William’s expression, and I really can’t wait to go to bed because I can’t even remember the last time I was looked at this much by this many people over sucha prolonged period of time. It’s unsettling. How on earth do popular people handle it?
‘You aren’t going to say anything?’ she says, finally, looking at me through the mirror. I’m actually not going to say anything just yet, since she has chosen the exact moment my mouth is full of toothpaste. Taking the time to spit and rinse buys me time.
Because Bee must know. And know that I know. And know that I did not immediately tell her.
It all makes sense why she isn’t staying at his house tonight.
Are they in a fight? Did they break up? Have I already been lax in best-friend comforting duties? I’m not sure I have any gems in the freezer, so I might have to order in something fried…
Oh, right. I still haven’t said anything.
‘I was going to tell you,’ I say, but I’m not even sure if that’s true. I think that’s obvious from the waver in my voice.
Bee’s reflection worsens (for me). She’s pissed off, not upset. She’s shooting the messenger. ‘Okay. So, apologise then.’
I immediately jump to respond, turning to face the real Bee, clasping her hands. ‘I’m so, so sorry. What can I do to help?’
‘You can start by texting sorry to William as well.’
Wait, what?I shake my head. ‘Hang on, what am I apologising to that shitstain for? Interrupting his little bathroom rendezvous? Forcing him to come clean to you before I did?’
‘What?’
‘What?’
We stare at each other. It dawns on me that we’re having two different conversations.
‘What do you think I’m apologising for?’ I ask.
‘Your behaviour tonight,’ she says, like it’s obvious.
‘Mybehaviour? What didIdo?’ Arthur would have told me if I had done something embarrassing, right? Now all I can imagine is me moving down a line of strangers making small talk, leaving a trail of laughter, mockery and finger-pointing in my wake.
‘I was just expecting a little more support from my best friend, who I brought with me tonight forsupport.’ Bee crosses her arms.
‘You and William ditched me the moment we arrived!Youabandonedmein a room full of strangers to fend for myself.’
‘What, you couldn’t have approached us at any point? I was really nervous meeting all of William’s friends, and I got to hear about how everyone had met you throughout the night, but you didn’t even ask me how I was going!’
‘That works both ways,’ I say, crossing my arms to mirror her. I’ve shocked myself: I have no idea where that came from.
I can see I’ve shocked her too, though she recovers quickly. ‘I’m not just talking about tonight.’
The fact that she isn’t just coming out with it and is instead feeding me bits of information in dribs and drabs to build the suspense is beyond frustrating. Bee is normally much more direct when she’s angry with me about something. ‘So, what is it about, then?’
‘I feel like you’re being so unsupportive of my relationship with William.’
