Page 9 of Great Sexpectations
‘Mate, she came on to me. I’m so sorry. It’s not been going on long, a month maybe.’
No, Zombie Face… Shush now.
Cameron’s face is completely ashen. He shoves his friend and storms off, leaving Cat Lady sobbing into her whiskers. Who shags their affair at a party where their boyfriend is in attendance? That’s awful but also kinda stupid.
I shuffle behind Cameron as I’m aware this will feel like a stake through the guts and part of me is worried. Don’t do anything stupid. Please. He gets as far as the driveway, then just stands there, not before dropping his head and putting his hands to his knees. I watch him from the front door, the pulse of happy dance music in the background.
‘Are you OK?’ I call out. I open a cupboard to the left of the door and take out the first coat I find.
Cameron swings his head round to see me. ‘Hey, Stantz.’ He takes off his glasses and wipes tears away with the back of his hand. ‘That wasn’t totally embarrassing,’ he exclaims, sarcasm in his tone.
‘For them, not you…’
I venture out onto the gravel driveway of the house and hand him the coat. It’s a fur-trimmed full-length plaid number that looks like it might belong to a pimp. I am not sure where my brother would wear this, but I put it over Cameron to protect him from the sharp autumn chill in the air. I know your heart is in pieces, but at least don’t let it feel the cold. Do I say I saw them doing the do? That may be too much for his fragile soul to take.
‘Is it terrible that I kinda knew?’ Cameron tells me. ‘They used to flirt terribly in front of me. I just thought they wouldn’t be so horrible as to actually go through with it.’
Oh, Spengler. That sucks. I don’t know what to tell you. You look the same age as me, mid-twenties, and my mum’s only advice when it comes to love is that you have to go through some of this shite to understand what you deserve. It’s what these years are for. I don’t know if he needs to hear the advice of my ex-porn star mother at this moment, though.
‘Do you have somewhere to go tonight?’ I ask him.
‘He’s my housemate. I think that’s the killer.’
‘Oh.’
I’d offer for him to come to mine, but I live with my parents. My mum would offer him a glow-in-the-dark Halloween-themed condom.
‘I might just go for a walk? Clear my head.’
This house is near a river, so this makes me worry slightly.
‘Do you want company?’ I ask.
He shrugs. ‘You’re kind, but we’ve just met. Please don’t feel obliged to look out for me. I’ll be fine. I’ll find a pub and get smashed somewhere.’
Around here? We’re in North London. He’ll get his face smashed in wearing that costume.
‘You could go back to yours and piss over all of his belongings? The smell of ammonia is particularly hard to budge,’ I contribute.
This is why our rubber sheets sell so well.
This time, his breath fogs the air with laughter.
‘I mean, there are other options too. The beauty of this party is that there’s actual security to keep out the journalists. His name is Kevin and he’s dressed like Frankenstein’s monster. I can tell him I caught them doing coke in the bathroom and get both of them thrown out? Then you can come back in, we can have a chat and you can get drunk here instead?’
‘Could we get more of that sushi?’ he asks.
‘Yeah, there’s a back door here. We could literally sit in the kitchen and take our pick. There are some damn fine Diablo chicken wings in there too.’
‘I love chicken wings.’ He perks up.
‘Who doesn’t?’
‘You’d do that for me?’
‘It’s a Ghostbuster thing, right?’ To show him how cool I really am, I then reach for my proton pack and strike a pose. I really do win at impressing people I’ve just met.
‘Just don’t cross the streams,’ he says.
