Page 70 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
‘Well, you told all those people at school that I shagged Diego Paz in a stairwell at the sixth-form ball.’
Crap, she remembers that?
‘I was drunk and that was over ten years ago.’
‘Well, that was all people did at that school, spread news that I was a slapper. Little’s changed. People like you just keep that rumour mill turning, don’t you?’
I step back on hearing her affront. ‘Hold up. People like me? You don’t even know me! You trampled all over people like me at school. You didn’t do anything to stop us thinking any different. You stole essays, you belittled people and you took advantage of them.’
She is silent as she takes in those words, wondering whether to be insulted or ashamed. She created a lot of that drama and reputation for herself. Plus, school was a very long time ago. I’d like to think we’ve all progressed since then in terms of our maturity. I’m not sure she’s allowed to make face judgements about me. Not anymore.
‘Look, think what you like of me. Get yourself together because everyone’s waiting outside,’ I say abruptly.
As I turn to leave, she attempts to compose herself and rifles through her handbag, swearing under her breath. From the corner of my eye I see her take out a small bottle of which she takes some long inhalations. I don’t know why I’m still here.
‘Let me guess, peppermint?’ I ask.
She seems surprised that I would know what that is.
‘About as useful as a bag of dicks,’ I mutter.
For some reason, she laughs at this reference.
‘Trust me, I’ve tried it all. You have to eat. Nibble on a cracker. Gluten-free if you must, otherwise it’s just hormones swimming around in your stomach.’
‘Where did you read that?’ she asks, like she might not trust my sources.
‘From one of my “shitload” of sisters; Meg and Emma have five between them.’
She arches her eyebrows at the sheer number of babies in that sentence.
‘What about these ginger chewy sweets?’ she says, holding up a box from her handbag.
I wince, remembering how I tried those too and spat them out, thinking Will was trying to poison me.Will. At least when I found out I was pregnant, I had a Will. My satchel by my hip, I open it up and pull out a bag of Tangfastics.
‘These. Any sour fizzy sweets you can get your hands on. These got me through my first trimester. I used to keep mini bags in my desk at school. I could have been sponsored by Haribo.’ I place them on the counter next to the sink with the Voss water.
‘And you just carry them around with you now?’ she asks.
‘I took the train here. I like a travel sweet.’ Haribo makes me happy. I like keeping it around me.
‘Are they organic?’
‘They’re gluten-free?’
She stares out my snarky reply. I can’t quite read her. Is she sad? Behind all those tears, what is the emotion there?
‘Look, do you need anything else?’ I don’t know why I ask this. Fifteen years ago is when you should have got to know me and realised, despite my duff haircut and my hand-me-down rucksack, I had good taste in music and I would have probably still looked after you in a toilet if you’d needed me. She grabs onto my hand and looks me in the eye. The girl’s got grip. What are you asking from me?
‘I’m sorry I stole your essay at school. That was shitty.’
I don’t know how to respond to that. You’re welcome? Feel better?
‘I am sorry I told everyone you shagged Diego Paz in a stairwell.’
‘We didn’t shag. He couldn’t get it up. He spent half an hour rubbing himself against my inner thigh, ripped my four-hundred-pound dress and told everyone in great detail about a vagina that certainly wasn’t mine. He had a cock like a hairless mole.’
‘Oh.’ I pause. ‘You should have told Diego. He might still be having sex like that. He might technically still be a virgin.’
