Page 10 of Luna Ascending

Today is a disaster. Everything electronic I touch freezes, spits out error messages or just plain turns itself off. The kids are especially irritating and just to make my day I left my bloody phone at home. I don't like to think I'm especially attached to it, but I feel strangely naked without it. Not that anyone is likely to be contacting me anyway I remind myself.

By 15:30 I'm exhausted, frazzled beyond belief and could kill just to crawl into bed. I am never agreeing to one of Liz's stupid schemes during the week again, perhaps ever! I squeeze the last of the books back onto their shelves, giving the bindings a reassuring pat and turn the flickering lights out on the library.

Tomorrow, I have to get hold of the school's handyman to look at the blasted things again. Those lights are forever on the blink and I swear they choose the days my migraines are at their worst to act up.

Getting back to the tenement I have to bat away an overattentive Mrs Grimsby who really wants to know who's fancy car was here last night, and fall in my front door. Big hot steaming bath and a hot chocolate it is...

∞∞∞

By the weekend I've almost recovered. It's ridiculous, I'm only in my early twenties – it's unfair my hangovers last for days! I'm definitely feeling better today, and I have a sneaking suspicion my good mood is down to that stupid speed dating app. I've got a message blinking away in my inbox saying I've matched with Marc.

After a few messages back and forwards I'm flirting, openly, actually flirting. Much easier by text! I'd be a little more excited if it was Aaron I was messaging but hey... I still feel a fizz of excitement. It's bloody sad that it's been so long since I had a bit of male attention.

Liz and I plan a cinema night out, but it turns into dinner first at a bistro bar she has her eye on. Oddly enough Liz drops into conversation that it was one of Tavey's haunts and he might be there this weekend. Bit stalker-y if you ask me, but she seems really excited.

I have my own agenda... If Aaron and Tavey are friends, or family, maybe Aaron will be there too. I don't mentioned it to Liz - I can't cope with her enthusiasm and subsequent disappointment for me if it doesn't work out. To be honest, I know the chances are pretty slim.

At the end of dinner, we're just moving to the bar when my phone pings in my pocket and I jump. Liz is here with me, and no-one else bothers to message. Liz peers at my phone over my shoulder.

“I can see you. ” she reads out “Well that's a bit creepy!” Liz frowns peering around.

"It's Marc, you remember, the super suave guy from that horrendous speed dating night you dragged me to..."

“Him?! Marciel?? Did you like him? I didn't think he'd be your type, too... showy! His family are the same - rich and controlling.”

Immediately I'm defensive. What a daft assumption that he might not be my 'type' because he's rich. I don't have enough time to express my annoyance before an arm snakes alarmingly around my waist, making me squeak in surprise. Liz's eyebrows shoot up so high I think they'll disappear.

“Hi, Marc...” my words come out in a stutter, trying to remember my manners “this is Liz, my friend. She was at the speed dating too...”

I wait for him to move his arm and he does so reluctantly. Marc looks briefly at Liz and nods curtly, then turns his charming eyes back on me.

“I was hoping I could persuade you on a date, but meeting like this is perfect!” He beams.

I can feel Liz rolling her eyes without even looking at her and she excuses herself to the bathroom. I lean away from Marc giving myself a bit more space – he seems drunk but remarkably still in control.

He's looking me up and down, and suddenly I feel really self-conscious. I didn't put much thought into what I was wearing tonight – the chances of meeting Aaron, or anyone, was pretty slim. My favourite, but slightly careworn, jersey dress suddenly feels like it's seen better days. If his slowly meandering appraisal taking in every inch of me is anything to go by however, he's not put off.

Marc insists on buying me a drink, even after I explain I'm on a breather from alcohol. I guess the booze he already has on board means he won't take no for an answer.

While he goes to order, I have a chance to inspect his classically high cheek-boned good looks, without being caught staring. He might not be Aaron, but heisa very handsome man. Lots of women would kill for a little bit of attention from him. If I'm honest though, his current antics are alarming. He's clicking his fingers at the barman.

I know some people can be spectacularly rude without realising, but I find myself sinking lower in my seat hoping no-one thinks I'm with him. Without biding, a phrase my auntie used to chirp springs into my mind, something about watching the way someone treats others less fortunate in order to gauge character. A feeling of unease washes over me.

My headache, which was grumbling away in the background, chooses this exact moment to go nuclear. I queasily watch Marc weave back towards me triumphantly clutching a bottle of champagne and groan inwardly. I already said I wasn't drinking... a whole bloody bottle?! Marc seems oblivious and pours us both a glass with a flourish, insisting we toast.

He keeps inching closer and leans in conspiratorially, despite the fact I'm pretty sure my body language is saying back off. I fold my arms.

“You know you are very beautiful” he murmurs, as clichéd as you like “I'd love to take you on that spa date”.

He grins leaning even nearer, and I can't help feel like the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. I take a small sip of champagne, more for something to do with my hands than anything, and feel myself warm to him a little.

“I'm not sure” I try to act coy, hiding my discomfort a little “I don't really know you.”

Scanning the room, looking for Liz and a get-out, I see someone that makes my breath hitch. Aaron is standing bolt upright directly across the room, looking straight at us and frowning.

Marc seems oblivious, and chooses the moment to excuse himself to the restroom. I relax a little as he weaves away.

Aaron strides over to me. Something about the way he moves makes my heart thud. Holy crap, I swear he's more attractive than the last time I saw him! I attempt to flutter my eyelashes, but probably look more like I'm having a mini-stroke. He smiles charmingly at me anyway.

---