Page 38 of Fake It 'til You Make It

Oh boy!He faceplants and crashes ass first into a fir tree.

‘Ouch!’ I squeal, both at digital Mike’s epic fall and the ache in my ribs from my torso-wrecking laughter. I’m crouched forward over my knees, trying badly not to pee my panties.

I lift off my VR headset and look up to see a stone-faced Mike, waving his headset at me. ‘You said you haven’t played VR before,’ he gripes.

The severity of his expression has me belly laughing to the extent I have to tell him to hold that thought so I can run to the toilet to wee.

When I return to the lounge, he’s set up a climbing game and is holding out my VR headset and hand pieces for me to take.

‘I hope you didn’t wet your big panties, Abbey. That would be embarrassing.’

I grab the gaming pieces from him. ‘More embarrassing than face planting and ass crashing into a tree?’

Though he glowers, there’s a definite joviality about his features. ‘Put your headset on and put your betting terms where your mouth is, Fluffy Boots.’

‘You get fussy when you’re losing, Mr Pro Athlete.’ My playful pout is perceived, as intended, as good-natured banter, but it’s me who ends up put in my place when Mike flashes me a smile. Not a smirk, not a grin, just a smile. A smile that draws on his lips, lifts his cheeks, flashes his teeth and dances in his eyes. It’s the kind of smile that lights sparklers in my tummy and forces an almost reflexive smile from me.

The girls are right; he’s really rather beautiful.

It feels like we’re caught in a moment. That moment in a cheesy romcom movie, when the characters fall for each other but don’t know it. Cue slow motion shots and romantic music, theworld around the characters fading into a background blur, as if the only two people in the fictional world who exist are Him and Her.

But that’s not us. Mike is obnoxious, has a different woman on his arm at every red-carpet event (as demonstrated by Google), and he’s a gargantuan noise pollutant.

‘It’s on,’ I tell him, remembering what I stand to gain by beating him – blissful quiet in my short-term expensive let.

‘Let’s climb,’ he says, roughly pulling on his headset. ‘This apartment won’t clean itself.’

14

TED

The sound of hammering on the front door infiltrates my dreams, the contents of which escape me as soon as I open my eyes to the sun beaming in through the windows, where I forgot to close the blackout blinds last night. I wasn’t drunk when I came to bed but I was whacked, after hours of competing with Abbey on the VR gamer.

The last of Mike’s party guests – the party at which he did not make an appearance and I was apparently host – left in the early hours of the morning.

I check my smart watch and see it’s after nine. I’m an early riser, so this is a rare occurrence.

The thumping on the door is back, as I slowly bring my legs around to the edge of the bed, wearing my boxer briefs.Who is knocking on the door and how did they get here?

I yawn, stretch and rise from the bed, realizing I’ve had a solid night’s sleep. The best sleep I’ve had since my fiancée ripped out my heart and set it alight in a trash can…

Padding through the apartment, I hear another round of pounding.

Who is this feisty in the morning?

My hands are already opening the door when it dawns on me…

‘Abbey.’ That’s right, I won last night. It was a narrow victory but a victory nonetheless.

‘Don’t you look dreamy?’ she says sarcastically, telling me exactly how sleepy and untidy my face and hair must look. And my?—

‘Sorry, I’ll go get some clothes.’ I look her up and down. Her short shorts, her string vest and… ‘Rubber gloves?’

She holds up her yellow-covered hands. ‘We might not be in a pandemic anymore but I don’t need to fondle the beer bottles of your Friday-night crew.’

‘You don’t have a spare pair of those, do you? If my brother sent them round, those guys could be carrying all sorts of infestations.’

She puffs out a short laugh. Then her eyes very fleetingly run the length of my body.

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