‘Oh sweet Jesus, my head,’ Piper groaned. Or tried to. Her voice didn’t quite manage to escape her throat.

‘I made you a tea,’ Rob said gently.

Piper yelped. Rob. What the fuck?

‘Oh god,’ she murmured. ‘What the fuck?’

‘There’s a bucket next to the bed if you… you know.’

Piper curled on her side, pressing her face into the pillow. Her head was throbbing , her stomach churning, but worse than that was the shame. What had she done last night? Flashes of memory were trying to push their way to the front of her mind, but she wasn’t ready for that yet. Maybe she never would be. Could you book yourself in for a lobotomy? Had no one made Eternal Sunshine-style memory wiping real yet? They should get on that.

‘Can I get you anything?’ Rob said.

He sounded near, but Piper didn’t think he was actually in the bed with her. She slid her foot across the sheet. No, she was definitely the only one in the bed.

‘I can do a fry-up?’ Rob said.

Piper wanted to pull the duvet up over her head and wait for death. Instead she forced one eye open and focussed it on the mug of tea on the bedside table.

‘I think just tea is good for now. Thanks.’

‘Okay,’ Rob said. ‘I’m going to go down to Morrisons and get bacon and eggs anyway. In case you change your mind. And sausage? Do you like black pudding?’

Piper’s stomach roiled.

‘I’ll just get the stuff and you can see what you feel like later. Okay?’

‘Great,’ Piper murmured. ‘Thank you.’

---

Once Rob had gone, not just out of the room, but out of the flat – Piper waited to hear the front door click closed – she dragged herself slowly to sitting and blinked both eyes open. Rob’s bedroom. In Rob’s flat. Grown-up Rob. She’d been in Rob’s bedroom a couple of times when they were teens. It had been a typical teen boy’s bedroom: smelled like socks, clothes on the floor, posters on the walls, mugs and dishes and abandoned towels everywhere. He had a TV and some game console – she couldn’t remember what – and she’d been envious because she wasn’t allowed technology in her room. She’d been fascinated by it all: the bed Rob slept in, where he took his clothes off and put his clothes on. Where he no doubt watched porn and wanked. She hadn’t been able to think about that for too long, the butterflies in her belly overwhelming her.

Grown-up Rob’s room – she really had to stop thinking of him as ‘grown-up Rob’ –was tidy, apart from a pile of trainers and shoes under the window. The walls were grey and plain apart from a framed poster above the bed. Piper was too hungover to tip her head back enough to see what it was. There was a pile of books on the other bedside table, next to a pint glass of water and a set of earbuds. And her dress – her silver sequinned kimono dress – was draped over a chair in the corner, her bag and shoes on the floor underneath. Had Rob undressed her? She was wearing her underwear, thank god, but… surely Rob hadn’t undressed her? She cringed, lying back down again and pressing both hands to her face. Why? Why had she got so drunk? She’d promised herself she wouldn’t. She was meant to be coming home and showing everyone that she’d been right to leave, that she had a whole different life now. Instead she’d immediately become a drunken mess. Matt would piss himself when she told him.

Piper forced herself to drink half the mug of tea before carefully clambering out of bed and padding across the room to the chair. She opened her bag to get her phone and yelped at the sight and the smell. Why was her bag full of pork scratchings?

Back on the bed, she texted Matt: Got hammered. Woke up in Rob’s bed. Kill me.

The phone rang almost immediately and Piper jumped, before clutching her head with her free hand.

‘Ow,’ she said when she answered.

‘Get it girl,’ Matt said. She could hear him laughing. She hated him.

‘I hate you.’

‘So. How was it?’

‘We didn’t have sex.’

‘Blowie? Handie? Did he just focus on your neeeeeds?’

‘Nothing? I don’t think? I think we might’ve kissed, but also that could’ve been a dream.’

‘Where is he now? Are you still at his place?’

Piper rubbed the back of her neck. It felt crunchy. Like crackling.

‘He’s gone to get bacon and eggs. He’s going to make breakfast.’

‘I feel like you definitely must’ve shagged him. Unless he thinks the fry-up’ll make you put out.’

‘I definitely didn’t shag him. It’s been a while. I’d know.’

‘That’s good anyway. That he didn’t take advantage of you in your delicate condition.’

‘That’s pregnancy. And I think it’s pretty basic not to shag someone when they’re drunk.’

‘Oh fucking hell, Pipes, not too hungover for a feminist lecture, eh? I know. I was joking. Are you okay?’

‘I feel like I’m dying. And I’m kind of cool with it.’

He laughed. ‘The fry-up’ll help, I promise.’

‘I’ll have to talk to him. What if I said stuff last night?’

‘What kind of stuff? Like about his arms and his jaw and his full bottom lip and deep blue eyes?’

Piper groaned. ‘Oh what the fuck?’

‘You texted me,’ Matt said. He was so smug. ‘You tried to send me a photo of him, but it was blurry as fuck. So you described him instead. He sounds hot. Almost gave me the horn, never mind you.’

‘Oh god.’ She drank the rest of her tea. It helped. A little.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Matt said. ‘I’ve been around you drunk loads of times. You talk a fuck of a lot, but you never do anything properly embarrassing. Not like Jodie.’

Jodie was prone to taking her clothes off when drunk. All of them. And once, they’d all left a club – one of the few times Piper had gone out with Matt and his friends – and Jodie had disappeared down an alley for a wee, then fallen over backwards with her knickers round her ankles, and just lay there, howling with laughter, until the rest of them had gone to find her. She wasn’t even embarrassed the next day. In fact, she kept recreating it to make the rest of them laugh.

‘You probably told him you’d missed him at the very worst,’ Matt said. ‘That’s all. I promise.’

‘I don’t know,’ Piper said. ‘What if I, like…’

‘Told him you want to climb him like a tree?’

‘Oh god.’

‘He might be into it.’

‘He won’t be. He never was.’

‘You don’t know that. How far away is the supermarket?’

‘What supermarket?’

‘The one he’s gone to to get breakfast things. Which, by the way, isn’t something men do for women they don’t like.’

‘He’s just nice. He was always nice.’

‘You’re such an idiot. How far is it?’

‘Ten minutes maybe?’

‘So get your arse out of bed and make yourself presentable for when he gets back. You’ve probably got make-up all over your face and hair like a bonfire.’

‘Fuck,’ Piper said. ‘I’ll ring you later.’

‘Send me another photo of him. See if you can get a shirtless one.’

‘Thank you,’ Piper said, swinging her legs out of bed and taking a moment to allow her stomach to settle.

‘No probs. Love you.’

‘Love you too.’

Piper took a few deep breaths before standing and shuffling over to the bedroom door. But when she opened it, she was relieved to find it was actually an en-suite bathroom. Bright and clean and smelling like lemons. Perfect.