“Um. Yes. And my phone,” I lie.
“Jesus, the attacks around here are getting worse,” mutters the man. “Now you see why I don’t like Molly out on her own at night!”
Leaning down, I slide my hands down my thighs, sucking in panicked breaths. My forehead stings and the ringing in my ears won’t stop.
“We’ll take you back to your friends,” says the woman and places a gentle hand on my arm. “Maybe you should get checked out if you hit your head.”
“I’m fine.”
Is the spaced out feeling of disconnection from my surrounds because of the fear, or the bang on the head? I walk slowly, in case I trip again and alert the couple to how bad my head hurts. Once I step into the safety of the pub, I indicate my workmates half-hidden by a group in front of their table. “I’m all right now. My friends are there.”
“If your sure,” says the woman and I can hardly hear her words above the volume of the music.
“Thank you for your help.”
The woman stares at my face. “I never noticed outside, but your face is bleeding.” She pulls a packet of tissues from her black handbag.
I touch my forehead and stare at my fingertips. Numb. Blood. The woman passes me a tissue and I hold it against my face.
“You should report this. Here, this is our number if the police want to talk to us,” says the man.
I shuffle from foot to foot, not paying attention. I want to go home. Run away. There’s no point contacting the police about random muggings. The man pushes a piece of paper into my hand and I point at my friends again. “Thank you,” I repeat. “I’ll find somebody to take me home.”
“Get checked out. That’s a nasty gash on your head.”
I smile and nod at the smartly dressed couple who receive more curious looks than I do due to their smart attire. I thank them and walk away with the impression the couple don’t want to leave me. They hover in the doorway as I approach Julian. What would’ve happened if they had walked by instead of interrupting? A shiver trips down my spine. Everybody is right. I’ve underplayed the effect dating Jax Lewis has on my life.
Julian looks up at where I hover, holding the tissue against my forehead. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
“No.” I grab my bag and jacket.
He stands and touches my arm and I flinch. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing. I have to go.” I edge away.
But where do I go? What if I walk out of the door and there’re more crazy girls? I curl my arms around my bag, hands shaking. “Can we call a taxi and leave? I don’t want to catch the bus.”
In the bustle of the pub, my appearance passes over everybody apart from the friends in front of me. I don’t want to be stared at, whispered about. The couple who helped me has gone, leaving me to the safety of my workmates.
“I have to go.” I repeat. “Please.”
“Tegan? What’s happening?” asks Claire.
I bite hard on my lip, I will not cry. Not here. “Please. Can we go?”
“Come on.”
I head to the door with Julian, closely followed by Claire and Zoe. Outside, I rest against the bricks and suck in the cool air. The shock hits with the cold as I break down in tears and numbly recount the event.
“Shit. Call the police!” says Julian. “That’s fucked up!”
“They were fans?” ask Zoe. “Jesus!” She pulls the tissue from my head and examines the wound before peering into my eyes. I gasp for breath and Zoe curls her arms around me and draws me close. “Let’s get you checked out.”
“No. I don’t want any fuss.”
Zoe huffs. “Tell her, Julian.”
“She’s right. Get checked over if you’ve banged your head. You’re stumbling when you walk, that isn’t good.”