Lou was running late. She’d slept through her alarm, couldn’t find anything to wear, had forgotten she’d loaned her straighteners to Ella and had turned her room upside down looking for them. She had a seminar first thing and she couldn’t miss it. She was struggling with the essay – Colonialism in Victorian English Literature – and really wanted to talk to her tutor about it before she got back to it, and it was due at the end of the week.
She made herself a coffee in a takeaway cup and left, slamming the door behind her. She turned on to Bold Street and had to step into the road to avoid a street sweeper on the pavement. It was only when she stepped back up again that she saw Kyle. He was leaning against the plate glass window of the new cafe on the corner.
‘I’m late,’ Lou said and carried on walking, biting at her lip. Her stomach had clenched at the sight of him, but she couldn’t stop; she wasn’t going to engage with him. It had been so long since she’d last seen him that she’d really started to believe he’d given up coming after her. She should have known better.
And then he grabbed her arm.
‘What the fuck?’ she said, yanking it out of his grasp and spilling some of her coffee. She yelped, licking the back of her hand.
‘I want to talk to you,’ Kyle said.
‘Not now,’ Lou said. ‘I’m late. I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.’
‘I’ll walk with you,’ Kyle said.
Lou shook her head, but carried on heading up towards the main road. She couldn’t believe she’d apologised to him, what the fuck. And what was he even doing there, waiting for her? Tears pricked her eyes and she glanced down at the back of her hand, which had turned pink. That was why she was almost crying. Not Kyle. She’d burned her hand.
At the lights, she sipped tentatively at her coffee, the steam prickling her top lip.
‘What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?’ Kyle said.
Lou stopped and stared at him. ‘Are you joking? I told you. I’m not interested. And I really don’t think it’s OK for you to turn up here …’
The lights changed and Lou crossed, Kyle keeping pace with her.
‘There’s a party,’ Kyle said. ‘For Valentine’s. And I thought you might –’
She stopped on the other side and turned to him. ‘Look. Please. I can’t … I just need to get to uni. And I’ve hurt my hand and I’ve had a shit morning and I can’t –’
Kyle reached out and ran his fingers over the back of Lou’s hand and she yanked it away. Again.
‘OK. Then meet me for lunch,’ Kyle said.
Lou wanted to say no. She almost said no. But she knew he wouldn’t accept it, knew he wouldn’t let her go if she said no. So she said yes.
Issey woke up to find Liane pressed up against her back, one arm curled around her waist, hand dangling over her belly. One of Liane’s legs was between Issey’s, their ankle bones knocking together.
‘Fuck,’ Issey murmured. She was already turned on. She’d woken up turned on. What if Liane’s hand moved just a bit lower …
She shuffled forward, away from Liane, swinging her legs out of bed and letting Liane’s arm fall down onto the mattress. She grabbed her dressing gown and tiptoed out of the room and down to the kitchen.
Paige was sitting at the dining table, fully dressed, eating an enormous bowl of cereal.
‘Big night?’ she said, pausing with the spoon just in front of her mouth.
‘Sort of. Not really. Weird night.’
‘Get a tea,’ Paige said. ‘You’ll feel better.’
Issey put a teabag in a mug and flicked the kettle on. She walked around the other side of the table and leaned back against the units.
Paige looked up and nodded, pointing at her mouth to show it was full of cereal.
‘I … You said you were bi, right? When we first moved in here?’
Paige swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Did I? I think I’m pan.’
‘Oh, OK,’ Issey said. Her bare feet were freezing on the tiled floor. She stepped one on top of the other. ‘I don’t think I know what that is exactly.’
‘Well, some people think bi suggests binary gender – so, male or female, right?’
Issey nodded. The kettle started to boil and she walked around the breakfast bar to get to it. Paige shifted in her seat so she was half turned towards Issey.
‘But if you believe gender is a spectrum, then bi doesn’t really work because there’s not just two. I mean, it works for some people, that’s how they identify and that’s fine. But it didn’t feel right to me. And pan does. So.’
Issey poured hot water into the mug and then turned around again.
‘How did you know?’
‘What?’ Paige said, reaching back and picking her phone up off the table. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go in a bit …’
‘Oh, sorry.’ Issey crossed the room to get milk from the fridge.
‘No, it’s OK,’ Paige said. ‘I’ve got, like, a minute. How did I know I was queer, do you mean?’
Issey frowned. ‘I think so. Yeah.’
Paige shook her head. ‘I think I sort of always knew. I had crushes on boys at school and on girls too. And there was never a time that I really thought about one more than the other. I mean, specific people, yeah? But it was always just there. Both.’
‘Right,’ Issey said. ‘I remember you mentioned a girl you were seeing when we first moved in?’
‘Yeah,’ Paige said. ‘That’s not really a thing any more.’
‘Oh, right,’ Issey said. ‘I’m sorry. I never … I didn’t ever really think about girls.’
‘But you are now?’ Paige asked.
Issey nodded, biting her lip. ‘I mean, I always had crushes on boys. You’ve seen my room – I’ve got Bang! and 1D and Justin Bieber posters on my wall.’
‘You’ve got Beyoncé too,’ Paige said.
Issey smiled. ‘Everyone loves Beyoncé. But I don’t think I fancy her.’ She frowned. ‘Do I?’
‘I don’t know,’ Paige said. ‘But I know I do.’
‘I think … you know when people ask who you’d fancy if you were gay? I mean, when you’re not gay?’
Paige nodded.
‘I’d probably say Beyoncé. But I don’t, like, get turned on when I look at her.’
‘But there is someone, right? Which is why you’re asking me.’
‘Yeah,’ Issey said. ‘And I don’t know … I think about her. Like that. I do get turned on when I think about her. I think about touching her and kissing her and stuff.’
‘And stuff,’ Paige repeated and waggled her eyebrows.
Issey smiled.
‘Sorry,’ Paige said. ‘You just look terrified.’
‘I kind of am,’ Issey said. ‘It’s just … it freaks me out. And I think – is it just cos we’re spending so much time together? Or because she’s my friend? I remember reading a thing in Glamour or somewhere about how it’s natural to fantasise about other women, it doesn’t mean you’re gay. But I … I don’t know.’
‘Can you talk to her about it?’ Paige asked gently.
Issey shook her head. ‘Fuck. No. No. I don’t think so.’
‘If she’s your friend, she’d understand, right? Unless she’s homophobic.’ She glanced at her phone. ‘Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I’ve got to go!’ She stood up, dropping her phone in her pocket, and pulled Issey into a quick hug. ‘Don’t worry about it so much, OK? And you can talk to me any time. Will you be all right?’
Issey nodded. She felt small next to Paige. Small and young and stupid.
‘She’s not homophobic,’ Issey said.
‘Good,’ Paige said. ‘Talk later, yeah? Come to the Rose?’
Issey nodded. ‘OK. Yeah.’
Paige grabbed her bag and coat and ran out of the room. Issey heard the front door slam and picked up her tea, blowing across the surface of the liquid.
Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her dressing gown and she pulled it out. It was a text from Liane. The text had three coffee cups and the face with the medical mask.
‘I feel like shit,’ Liane said when Issey took her up a cup of tea and a plate of toast. ‘Actual shit. Shit in human form. Like the poo emoji. But not smiling.’
‘You’ll feel better when you’ve had some tea,’ Issey said, putting Liane’s mug on the bedside table and perching on the end of the bed with her own.
‘Do you need to go?’ Liane said. She didn’t look like her eyes were actually open, but they must have been open enough to see Issey.
‘No?’
‘Good. I know we haven’t hung out much lately.’
‘No,’ Issey said. She wanted Liane to say why. To either say she didn’t regret the kiss or she did. Just something. Instead of pretending it hadn’t happened.
‘We could go and get breakfast, maybe? I’ve got some vouchers for McDs.’
‘OK,’ Issey said. ‘I need a shower first though.’
‘OK,’ Liane said. Issey was almost out of the door when she said, ‘Iz? I feel bad about last night. I need to know you forgive me for my wangery.’
Issey stopped and leaned against the doorjamb. ‘You were a dick.’
‘The biggest dick,’ Liane said. ‘And not in a good way. I’m sorry. Does it help to know I feel like actual shit?’
‘Little bit,’ Issey admitted. ‘But I feel a bit shit too. For turning up like that. It was really nothing to do with me –’
‘No,’ Liane said. ‘I mean, yeah, it was nothing to do with you.’ She smiled. ‘But you were worried. And I said I’d phone. And I didn’t phone.’
‘So we’re good?’
‘We’re good.’