Page 49 of Come Back To Me

“I haven’t decided,” he says. “Dinner…drinks…a good fuck.”

He’s drunk. I decide not to be too hard on him. And besides, he took the time to gather some information on me. Not a complete narcissist, yeah?

I eye Ethan warily, the scruff on his chin, the deep-set eyes, the too-cool-for-school haircut. This boy/girl dance is exhausting. It feels the same each time: flirt, sex, date, disappoint, break up. I’m made of glass not steel.

“Let me decide for you then,” I say. And without another word I move past Ethan as he stares after me forlornly. I have to say goodbye to Posey before I leave, so I push past a couple making out and have to step over a drunken guy slouched against the wall. Ethan follows me into the living room where Posey is sitting on the couch half sprawled across her girlfriend. Her white blonde hair is combed back in a low ponytail and her eyes are sleepy either from the liquor or the joint she smoked earlier. I lean down and kiss her on the forehead, promising to call her next week to set up a lunch date. All the while Ethan lingers awkwardly behind me.

“You taking this one home then?” Posey says, jutting her chin toward him.

I glance over my shoulder before shaking my head.

“No,” I say. “I don’t take advantage of drunk men.”

Posey laughs and reaches her hand toward me. I take it and she squeezes my fingers.

“He’s not always an arse,” she says. “He’s quite kind if you look really deep. Really, really, really deep.”

We all laugh, even Ethan who curses colorfully at her before she shows him the finger and tells him to get the fuck out of her house. And then we’re walking out of the flat together, down the stairs, and past the doors with their bright white paint and shiny gold numbers. The minute I push open the doors to her building, the song of London greets me: cars, music, laughter drifting out of a pub, the sounds of people as they love, and flirt, and play. Ethan grabs my hand and I don’t pull away. I figure I’ve given him a hard enough time.

“I’d like it if you walked me home,” he says. “Just to be safe.”

I roll my eyes. “Where do you live?”

“Over by Paddington Basin,” he says. “Next to Selfridges.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m not walking all that way. I’ll call you an Uber.” I pull out my phone but it’s dead.

“Shit, do you have yours?”

He shakes his head.

Such a fucking liar,I think.

“Battery died hours ago.”

I notice he’s not slurring anymore. The wanker was faking.

“I can just come to yours then,” he says, cheerfully. “I don’t mind at all.”

We’re trudging through the streets now. It’s started raining. I shoot him a dirty look. Part of me wants the company, but I’d prefer to be the one to suggest it.

“Is this how you get women to sleep with you? Because it’s pathetic. I don’t take strays in, I’m not the bloody pound.”

He laughs. “No, actually. I never have to work this hard. I’m trying a new tactic where I sort of beg and act like a loser and hope you feel sorry for me.”

“Right,” I say. “Unfortunately that won’t work for you. You might want to reconsider.”

“Your friends said nothing would work.” He shrugs. “They reckon you’re still hung up on that David guy.”

I recoil at the sound of his name. It’s like someone just tasered me. How dare they tell him about David! God, I desperately need new friends.

“Who’s David?” I ask.

“Exactly,” he says.

I open the door to my building.Time to move on, Yara,I tell myself.

I live in a whitish building with ten units and worn espresso colored floors. The place is old, but the floors are new, made to look old. I love those floors, how they try to be something they’re not. The flats are four to a floor, except for the third floor, which only has two units. That’s where I am, in the attic space that has been converted into two small studios and divided by a thin sheetrock wall. My side has the skylight; my neighbor, Bidi, has a slanted ceiling and a window seat with built-in bookshelves. I’m jealous of her window nook, and as far as I know she is too busy fucking the guy from 5M to use it. I’ve been in her place once to return the vacuum she loaned me and spotted five varieties of bongs on the shelves that were meant for books. I bought my own vacuum after that. I won’t be taking loaners from someone who desecrates bookshelves. The room came with a single bed and a dresser that is so worn and chipped I’m not even sure what color it had originally been. I papered the drawers and packed away what little I had. You’d think someone who traveled America for as long as I did would have…more. But, I don’t. I shed things like a snake shed its skin. When I left I didn’t take anything with me but some clothes.

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