And here we were. The script would go out the window for all I knew, and so did everyone else. Storm’s head hit the table with a heavy thud. Someone across the table looked like he was about to cry. Alastair? He walked out.
Thank God for that.
And Kirsten? She just chuckled. Then she stormed out, letting the door slam shut behind her. It still had plastic on the handle, a strip of it rattling loudly against the metal doorframe.
Which was when I finally snapped. I groaned. I shouted out loud. Screeched.
Then I gathered myself up, adjusted my tie and spoke sternly.
“You heard the lady. Now get the fuck back to work.”
Okay. Sink or swim. Or perhaps not. What the fuck did I know?
I made it home just before midnight, a ridiculous time to try to start to wind down. I needed to be back at the studio complex by six, really. Eight as per the schedule, but there would never be enough time to get anything done. Not like this. My tablet was still in my hand; I was still typing as I pushed the door open, the familiar hallway stench of fresh urine hitting me right in the face.
I needed to move to a better place. Get out of this absolute dump of a flat and move up in the world. Not that I could afford it. I had more loans to pay off, and a shitty starter wage that definitely didn’t allow me any extravagances.
The rush of air behind me should have startled me, but I’d seen his dump of a car parked in the road. I’d expected it. Maybe not this late, but…
“You’re so late.”
“First day in the studio. It was chaos.”
“Did it all go…okay?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
I could. Maybe I would have if it wasn’t for the giant lead ball sitting in my stomach.
We didn’t speak in the lift. Nor did he open his mouth before letting me open the door for him. Watch his back as he shuffled inside. Shoes off. Like a massive déjà vu.
“Drove down earlier, you know. In case.”
“Stupid. Everything is fine. You need to study. Uni is important.”
“Says the guy who didn’t go.”
“Arsehole.”
I took my glasses off so I could get out of my cheap tie. Shirt. The lot.
Perhaps it was just me retaliating. Making him see what an idiot he was. He’d kissed me? ME? Stupid ugly bloody me?
I wasn’t kidding because I was not an oil painting. My skin was full of the craters of youth. My nose too big. My face… My eyesight was ridiculous. I couldn’t even make out the shape of him from where I was jumping around trying to dump my trousers.
I needed sleep.
I did NOT need this.
I needed this like I needed to breathe. Him.
“I know I behaved like a dick last time,” was his opening line from the other side of the bed, where he was fiddling with his belt. Taking off his socks.
“You are a dick.”
“Childish, Georgie.”
“Nope,” I breathed out, turning my back to him and making my way to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth. Vigorously. Cleaned my glasses that were all smudged from the day. Put them back onto my stupid nose.
