‘Hey, sexy lady!’ Matt called out as Piper walked out of the main gates of the building.

She grinned at him. ‘Damn, they’re meant to remove pervs from the premises. Don’t know why they made us all chip in for that water cannon if they’re not going to use it.’

As soon as she reached him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed.

‘You okay?’ he said into the top of her head.

‘Tired.’

‘You were brilliant this morning, babe.’

He’d already texted to tell her this, but she was happy to hear it again.

‘Thanks.’

‘Had any shitty comments?’

‘Couple.’ She let him go so they could start walking up to the pub. ‘Few pervs. Some people telling me I’m fat.’

Matt mock-gasped. ‘Shit! I’m sorry. Didn’t you know? I’m a terrible friend.’

She laughed. ‘I know, right? All these years and you never mentioned it.’

Matt had been fat when they met at university. Piper and Matt had gravitated together – both Northern, both quite loud, but not as confident as they pretended to be. They’d become BFFs ridiculously quickly, inseparable within a couple of weeks.

They’d kissed once at a New Year’s Eve party. Matt had smoked then and Piper was always trying to bum cigarettes from him, even though she’d never smoked in her life. That night, he’d let her. He’d put the cig between her lips and cupped his hand around her mouth to light it. She hadn’t even had time to inhale when he’d taken it back out again and pressed his lips to hers. She’d been sort of startled, but also drunk enough to decide to just go with it. It hadn’t been a good kiss. They’d had zero chemistry. He’d pulled away, mumbled ‘sorry’, put the cig back in her mouth and they hadn’t mentioned it for years. Not long after, Matt had started going out with Joe, a boy on their course, who wore a leather jacket, hardly ever turned up to lectures and acted as if Matt didn’t exist. Matt had been completely besotted.

Another drunken night, Matt had told Piper he was bi. Now he was seeing Rebecca, who was sweet and funny and way more into Matt than he was into her. It was a pattern. Piper was so grateful she’d never been interested in him romantically; she’d totally have got her heart broken.

They walked around the corner and crossed the road into the pub they always went to when Matt met Piper from work, which he tried to do at least once a week. It wasn’t the kind of pub Matt preferred –it was dark and dingy and favoured by locals, whereas Matt usually liked hipster bars with imported beers and fancy nibbles – but they’d popped in once and kept coming back ever since. The staff knew them now, they had their favourite table in the bay window and Matt even allowed himself a packet of Scampi Fries, which Piper had been sworn to secrecy about.

‘How’s Becks?’ Piper asked, once they were seated – Piper with a bottle of Corona, Matt with a gin and tonic, and the pack of pungent-smelling crisps pulled open on the table between them.

‘She’s good,’ Matt said, nodding. ‘Haven’t seen her for a few days.’

‘Oh god. Are you dumping her?’

Matt picked up a crisp and popped it in his mouth. ‘Maybe.’

‘Matt! Why?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. She’s great. She’s just not… I don’t look forward to seeing her. I mean, we have fun, yeah? But I was more excited just now waiting to see you than I am when I see her.’

‘Well,’ Piper said, picking up her drink. ‘That’s cos I’m awesome.’

‘You are.’ Matt grinned. ‘You were so great this morning. I was so proud of you.’

She smiled at him. One of the things she’d loved the most when she first met him was how open he was about his feelings. He’d told her he loved her within a few weeks, and was always effusive with his praise and his emotions. She’d struggled a bit at first (she’d said ‘Me… um… too’ when he’d said ‘I love you’ and he still took the piss about it occasionally), but now it was easier. They always said they loved each other when they ended a phone call; it came naturally to Piper now.

‘Have you read all your messages yet?’ Matt asked.

The pub door opened and they were hit with a blast of cold air. Matt shivered dramatically.

‘Not yet,’ Piper said. ‘I had some on Facebook, but—’

But the thought of reading them had made her feel like a teenager again, standing outside a party and hearing her friends talking about what a mess she looked that night. She didn’t want to say that to Matt.

‘Have a look now then. If they’re terrible, we can get hammered.’

Piper knew Matt couldn’t actually get hammered – he had to be up for work at six in the morning – but it was a sweet offer.

‘Fine,’ Piper said. She took a fortifying swig of her beer and tapped open Messenger. The messages from her friends were all lovely, of course, but she had a bunch of notifications from strangers too.

‘This guy wants to motorboat me,’ Piper said, pinching a Scampi Fry.

‘That seems fair enough,’ Matt said. ‘You do have magnificent bosoms. Block him.’

Piper blocked him. The next message was supportive and funny – from a woman saying she agreed with everything Piper said and asking where she’d got her lipstick. Piper thanked her and sent her links both to the lipstick and her Instagram. The next one said I used to be like you. I was unhappy and comfort eating and I didn’t have the energy to exercise and then tried to get her to sign up to some aloe vera pyramid scheme thing. Piper blocked her. There were a few more letting her know she was fat. ‘Do they think I don’t know?’ she asked Matt. ‘It’s literally what I was on there to talk about.’ And a couple telling her she’d never get a man looking the way she did, which she knew wasn’t true and didn’t care about anyway. And then, towards the end, there was—

‘No,’ Piper said, putting her phone down on the table and picking up her beer.

‘What?’ Matt asked. ‘If it’s another dickhead just get ’em blocked.’

‘No,’ Piper said again. ‘It’s not… It’s—’ She picked her phone back up and held it out so Matt could see the screen.

‘Ho-lee shit,’ Matt said, squinting. ‘Is that—’

‘Yeah.’

Piper’s hands were shaking. She put her phone down on the table again and pushed her hands under her thighs. Rob. Rob Kingsford. He’d been ‘Kingy’ for a while at school. And then ‘Robbie’. And then, eventually, ‘Rob’. Piper hadn’t heard from him since she’d moved to London. And she hadn’t even stalked his Facebook for ages. Months, probably. Definitely weeks.

‘What does he want?’ Matt asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Piper said. ‘I can’t look.’

Piper picked up her phone again and stared at Rob’s photo. He looked basically the same as he had done at school, except obviously older and bigger. In her head, he was still so much the Rob from school that the picture almost looked like Rob’s hotter older brother. She couldn’t quite imagine what this version of Rob would be like in real life. She knew, from her Facebook stalking, that he was a runner – he’d done the Manchester Run and even some sort of mini Iron Man, plus the mud thing everyone seemed to do at least once and which looked like Piper’s worst nightmare.

‘Jesus, are you drooling?’ Matt asked. ‘Give it here, I’ll read it.’

‘No,’ Piper said. ‘I can…’ But she couldn’t.

Matt reached for the phone and Piper let him take it.

‘Hi,’ he read.

Piper closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the table.

‘Saw you on TV this morning and just wanted to say you were completely brilliant. Is it weird to say I’m proud of you when we haven’t been in touch all this time? Hope not. Too late now. Anyway. Hope things are really good with you. Would be great to catch up if you’re ever home. Do you ever get home? Rob x’

‘There’s a kiss?’ Piper asked, opening her eyes and leaning over to look at the phone. ‘Really?’

‘Jesus, woman, you’re nearly thirty,’ Matt said, sliding her phone back along the table.

‘I’m twenty-fucking-six,’ Piper said. She looked at the screen, but Matt had tapped out of Facebook.

‘Yes, there was really a kiss,’ Matt said. He put on a stupid voice: ‘Do you think that means he likes you?’

‘I just can’t believe he messaged me,’ Piper said.

‘You haven’t heard from him since school, right?’

‘He sent a card when Mum and Dad…’ She wafted her hand. ‘But that’s all. I’ve almost added him on Facebook so many times—’

‘While stalking.’

‘Yeah. Like… what’s the harm? We were definitely friends. You can add friends on Facebook.’

‘That’s literally what it’s for.’

‘Yeah. But I always thought it would be weird. After all this time.’

‘Apparently not,’ Matt said. ‘Since he messaged you. Check if he’s added you.’

‘Shit,’ Piper said, tapping Facebook open again. She hadn’t even thought of that. And there it was. A friend request from Rob Kingsford. Fuck.

‘Accept it, you daft cow,’ Matt said, reaching for the phone again.

‘I can do it myself,’ Piper said. And tapped.

‘Now check his profile. See if he’s single.

Piper shook her head, but she was already on it. ‘No relationship info to show’ she read. ‘That doesn’t mean he’s not in a relationship…’

‘You can check his photos for girlfriends later,’ Matt said. ‘I’m going to get us another drink. You want a gin?’

‘No, I’ll have another Corona.’ Matt stood up and Piper grabbed his sleeve. ‘Actually I’ll have a gin, yeah. Thanks.’

Matt ducked down and kissed the top of her head before taking the two steps over to the bar.

Piper stared at the phone until dots danced in front of her eyes. Rob Kingsford. Rob Kingsford had messaged her. And added her. And suggested they meet up next time she was home. She had no plans to go home, but that wasn’t the point. He wanted to see her. He’d thought about her.

‘Now put your phone down and listen to me. I need to tell you what happened to Crazy Jay last night.’

Piper turned her phone face down, but as Matt talked about Jay – one of his colleagues who always seemed to get himself into utterly ridiculous, borderline illegal, situations – she let her mind drift back to Rob. At school. In the park. On the beach. The first time they met, he was up a tree. She heard his voice first and then looked up and saw his face peeking out from between the branches. And then his arms as he swung down and landed on the grass just in front of her.

‘What an entrance,’ he’d said. And she’d laughed. And that had been it: they’d been friends. There was a group of them who hung out on the prom and the beach and by the lake in the park in good weather, and sat in the shelters at the front of the park whenever it rained. When they got a bit older and a couple of them had Saturday jobs, they met in one of the numerous coffee shops on the high street. And then, even later, in Wetherspoons. Those nights – all of them talking and laughing in ‘Spoons, before getting chips on the way home – were some of Piper’s favourite memories. She didn’t let herself think about it much. Sometimes, when she was trying to sleep, she couldn’t help herself: they crept into her subconscious like smoke around a door. Rob smiling at her over the top of his pint, her knee pressing against his under the table. Claire sitting in his lap, her hand playing with the sagging collar of his T-shirt, her smile smug.

‘Are you listening at all?’ Matt said and Piper jumped.

‘Shit. Sorry. No.’

‘Talk about a face journey,’ Matt said, doing an impression of Piper’s face going from soft to angry to sad and confused.

‘I was thinking about Rob,’ she said.

‘I assumed. So?’

‘So?’

‘So reply. Tell him you’ll go out for a drink next time you’re home.’

Piper shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. I think the past is best left in the past.’