“Yeah,” I say. “The typical.”
“Meh,” says Bella. “Oh, and don’t mind the chaos in the bathroom, I’ll clean that—maybe tomorrow.”
I laugh because I know it will, in fact, not get cleaned unless I do it. I sigh.
I am clean and like things to be structured. Bella is an unbearable slob. Messy. Unorganised. Chaos impersonated—we couldn’t be any more different. She is outgoing, parties every week, and jumps into bed with almost everyone. I don’t mind, while I do mind. I want her to have fun, but I especially mind when I am lying awake in bed, listening to ‘Naughty Wall Bangers 1 to 3’ in one night.
But I deal with it because Bella’s parents own this flat. And rent is very, very low. The only reason I still live here. Well, and Bella can be a very nice person unless not drunk. I learned to love her more than I sometimes admit.
“What are you up to?” I ask her. I always ask, just in case she gets lost—something that has happened more times than I’d like. I have known Bella since university, and it has always been a love-hate friendship between us. I helped her earn her degree, and she helped me stop being the loneliest loner in the entire world.
“Remember that guy from last week?” she asks.
“Which one?” I ask sardonically.
She laughs.
“The one that stayed for breakfast.”
“Oh, that one,” I say with a groan, “Vividly.” Because when I came into the kitchen to make myself breakfast, I ran into an undressed, very, um, broad guy, whom Bella had forgotten to tell that she lives with a roommate.
I don’t like dressed men, least of all do I have to see them naked.
“He’s throwing a party,” she says. “I’ll text you my location when I’m there.”
“Yep,” I tell her. “Anything else? Otherwise, I’d go back to reading.”
“You could join me,” she says. I only cock an eyebrow.
“Alright, alright,” she says, adding, “One day, I’ll make you leave your room and go out with me.”
“That day will never come,” I say and go to the kitchen, now that I am up anyway, and make myself a tea.
Bella gets herself ready, leaves, and returns three times because of all the things she has forgotten. Once for the key, and I have to open the door for her. Once for the phone, and once for the jacket.
In that department, we are twin sisters. I run back at least twice whenever I leave the house. I don’t know how other people do it, but I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached to my body, which is also the reason why I forgot that damn bag earlier.
When Bella is finally out of the house, I take my tea, get my blanket and place myself on the living room sofa. I actually enjoy Bella being gone so often, because it means I have the flat to myself.
It is dark outside when I hear my phone vibrate in my room. I have no clue how much time passed, and when I get up to get it, I see it’s already after midnight.
Seven messages from Bella, she must be drunk to the point of unconsciousness because I cannot grasp what she's trying to tell me.
I sigh and press her name to call her.
When she answers the call, an ear-splitting noise cuts through my brain. Apparently, she's in some club with very loud music.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask, shouting into the phone. “Can’t understand a thing from your messages.”
A maniacal laughter.
“Youu shoullld coome,” she slurs into the phone. “Telllng youh the’ss this guy.”
I don’t even listen to the rest.
“Listen, Bells, grab a cab and come home. Bring him by all means, but no more alcohol, okay?”
I can already see myself holding her hair over the loo if she makes it home. If.
