Page 10 of Lust

“Sure can. I’ll pick you up at 7.00 p.m. I’ll give you my number so you can send me your address.”

I hand her my phone and watch as she puts her number in while I wonder what it is I’ve just agreed to. Well, I say agreed to loosely.

The next few minutes are spent with Suzi and Cress arguing over whether to have Chinese or Indian. When they both look to me for a decision, I want to tell them I don’t mind either way, but I swallow down the words. Sod it. I want to go out with friends—I want to be invited to go out for a start. I want to enjoy my life, to have fun. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to. I’m an adult, independent and can make my own decisions.

“I haven’t had an Indian in a while,” I say, more confidently than I feel.

“Perfect. Indian it is. I have to go before Sheila comes looking for me. I’ll see you both later,” Cress says and disappears out thedoor. Her head appears around the door frame a second later. “Almost forgot. Syd, BYO.” Then she’s gone again.

BYO? What on earth does that mean?

Suzi laughs. “Oh, Syd. It means bring your own drinks.” There’s no condescending tone. If anything, it’s a little pitying. Not sure which I prefer, but I understand it.

“Of course it does. I knew that,” I scoff with a wave of my hand. I know she doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t call me out.

“Great. See you at 7.00 p.m.”

Once Suzi is gone, I open my phone and send my address to Suzi. No backing out now. Realising the time, I double check I swept up all the broken china, then grab my things from my locker. When I enter the shop floor, my eyes drift to where I last saw Blake, but there’s no sign of him now. Putting my strange interaction with him aside, I head home to get ready.

CHAPTER SIX

SYDNEY

“No, no more,” I beg as Cressida and Suzi chant “Down it! Down it!” beside me. I pick up the shot, take a deep breath, my nose turning up at the smell, then knock it back like a pro. But I’m barely an amateur never mind a pro. The Sambuca burns a path down my throat, almost threatening to come back up along with the other…so many I’ve lost count.

“Whoop! Go Syd!” Cress bellows, fist pumping the air.

“I’m done,” I slur, flopping back against the sofa from my position on the floor of Cressida’s apartment.

Suzi barks out a laugh before composing herself enough to point a swaying finger at me. “You’re going to feel that tomorrow.”

She is not wrong. I can already feel my head thumping in time to a hangover knoll to end all hangovers. I close my eyes hoping to ease my churning stomach but all it does is make the room spin. I’ve heard countless stories of the famous spinning room. I can honestly say I’m not a fan. Immediately snapping my eyes open again and attempt to focus on my friends.

“Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick,” I say, sluggishly considering getting up to find the toilet before I decorate Cressida’s carpet.

“Did you just say, ‘oh my god’?” Suzi demands, rising to her knees and barely managing to remain upright. “She did. Cress, the holier than thou Syd just used God’s name in vain.”

“I did not. I would…” I can’t finish my sentence and not because of the alcohol—well, maybe just a little bit.

These two women are a bad, bad influence on me. An image of the lecture my pa would give me if he could see me now. But it’s gone as quick as it came and I drink the water I asked Cress to get me earlier, which has sat untouched since. The cool liquid soothes my Sambuca scorched throat, and I drink it all down.

“I think I need to go home,” I state, forcing myself upright before awkwardly climbing to my feet. The faint tinkle of laughter follows me as I stumble my way into the toilet, managing to close the door but give up with the lock when I my fingers refuse to work properly. The room spins again as I relieve my bladder, then find my way back to the living room where Suzi and Cressida are dancing round the room.

“Syddddd! Come on, let’s dance before the Uber gets here.” Suzi grabs my wrist and drags me forwards, twirling and making me dizzy.

My head feelslike someone went at it with a sledgehammer as I roll over in bed.

“Arrgh!” I groan, holding my head in both hands, afraid it might break clean off if I don’t. “Why would people willingly do this?” I mumble, my mouth like sandpaper. I frown and squeeze my eyes closed tighter, but that simple movement causes splintering pain to arc through my head.

My phone rings, and I blindly reach out for it on my bedside table, desperate to stop the loud blaring ring tone. Snatchinghold of it, I bring it to my face and crack an eye open enough to answer it before putting it to my ear.

“Hello,” I croak.

“Sydney!” Suzi hollows. “You’re alive then?”

“Barely. Never again,” I say, then add, “Please, no more shouting.”

Suzi laughs. “Famous last words of every hangover sufferer across the world. Get yourself some coffee, and if you’re lucky, you might feel semi-normal by lunch.”

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