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“Sorta, but I’m dreading it too.” Alex’s shoulders slumped. “Finding a new place, living with strangers? It’s all such a gamble…” She tried to sound devoted to the cause for her excited friends.

“It can’t be any worse than living with those so-called ‘friends.’ Don’t worry, babe. We’ll vet your potential flatmates.” Lucy shifted closer to the counter. “You won’t get stuck with losers. I was born to play judge and jury.”

Alex hid behind her smile. Time to pretend, for everyone’s sake.

• • •

“I’m going to turn into a big lump of cheese. All these cheese sandwiches, cheese and onion pasties,” said Alex. “Helen thinks I’ve lost weight. I’ve actually gained since May.” She chewed a final bite of her mac ‘n’ cheese sandwich, her eyes rolling back in her head. “It’s so damn good though.”

“Chop, chop. Let’s go exploring.” Lucy brushed crumbs from her plaid shirt and hopped off her stool. Alex gathered their trays and trash, placing the pile at the end of the counter for the staff to collect.

“A day isn’t enough to see all of Manchester, so I’ll show you my highlights,” said Freddie. “The old buildings are beautiful. The city’s done a great job of modernizing without forgetting its past, you know? And the arts and culture is second only to London. Great clubs, music, bars, museums…”

“Football teams,” said Alex. “Well, one specific footy team.”

“Since we’re already in the Northern Quarter, let’s have a nose around here, then we can move on to the Cathedral, Albert Square, and if we have time, the Gay Village or Castlefield. Whatever you prefer,” said Freddie.

“Castlefield has the canal-side bars, right?” asked Lucy.

“Yep. You’ll love it.” Freddie lifted the strap of his messenger bag over his head and onto his shoulder. “Alex, you should be proud of your birthplace. This city’s creative, tolerant, and fun. Just like you, my little blonde friend!” He wrapped her in a hug and lifted her off the ground with a flourish.

Lucy groaned. “Freddie, you’re so cheesy.”

“Like me,” said Alex, legs dangling. “I’m full of cheese.”

Freddie laughed and lowered her back onto her feet. “This way, bitches.”

He led the girls eastward along Church Street. Saturday afternoon shoppers searching for rare vinyl and secondhand clothes clogged the sidewalk, forcing Alex and Lucy to walk single file behind him until they reached Oldham Street.

“Okay, here we are. Afflecks! Four floors of shopping mayhem. My favourite secondhand leather jacket came from here. Go forth and shop.”

Lucy put her hands on her hips. “Not sure how much shopping’s gonna happen. I only budgeted so much, and if we’re hitting up Castlefield later, I’d rather buy food and booze than clothes.”

Freddie’s shoulders drooped. “Kick me where it hurts, why don’t you?”

“I’ll check it out. Looks cool,” said Alex.

Lucy squeezed his arm. “Okay…but Freds…don’t go nuts. You know what you’re like.”

They climbed the stairs to the first level where secondhand clothing, jewellery, tattoo, and piercing vendors elbowed for space with kitschy Japanese wares and a beauty salon.

Lingering outside the tattoo studio’s entrance, Lucy rubbed her upper arm. “God, I thought the pain would never end. I almost bit right through my lip, didn’t I, Freddie? I’d do it all again in a heartbeat, though. I love my tattoo.”

“Yours is one of the best I’ve ever seen,” said Alex. “I’d love another if I could decide on a design. I’d like a quote, from Shakespeare maybe…’Oft expectation fails, and most oft where most it promises’.”

The line from All’s Well That Ends Well proved the great Bard was on to something. High expectations really were the root of Alex’s heartbreak. Her chest grew tight.

Lucy snickered. “Well, that’s fucking cheery. Why don’t you get one that sums up your dedication to playwriting?”

“Or get a Union Jack, Big Ben—something that screams London,” said Freddie.

An artist worked on an intricate flower design on a woman’s shoulder. Alex’s stomach lurched with queasiness. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t keep the truth from her best friends.

“Look, I wasn’t 100 percent honest with you guys.” Her declaration pulled their attention away from the tattoo in progress. “I didn’t ask Dad for money. I told him I wanted to go home…home as in back to Florida.”

“You did what?” Lucy snapped. “I thought we agreed. You would ask for cash so you could move to another flat.”

Freddie froze in a rare display of stunned silence.