Page 19 of Falling for You
Stevie closes the cupboard door and turns his back to me, now facing the sink. ‘I can’t, I’ve got some stuff I need to do.’
I pull a face at the back of his head. ‘Like what?’
‘Also,’ he turns to me and walks out of the kitchen, ‘I’ve done you a favour.’
I look up from the reams of delivery options on my phone.
Burger, Chinese, Indian … it’s just like New York.
‘I’ve got us invited to a party.’
‘No thanks,’ I say, looking back at my phone as I follow him into the living room. ‘I’m good.’
‘It’s tonight,’ Stevie is saying, as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘A masquerade ball.’
‘Sounds horrible.’
God, that looks like a good burger. Twenty pounds, though, including delivery – that feels like a lot.
I really need to get to grips with how much things are supposed to cost here. I feel like I’m walking around with ‘Hey buddy, I’m a friendly American, scam me!’ stapled to my forehead.
‘It’s basically like black tie and dresses and then we wear a mask. Or, like, fancy dress.’
‘Right.’
‘It’s a PR event for a huge perfume or something. They’ve hired performers and everything.’
I look up at Stevie, leaning against the doorframe. ‘Are you performing?’
He shakes his head. ‘No, not my kind of performing. But I know one of the girls who has been booked and she was given a load of tickets to, like, fill up the event.’
Okay, I think I’m going to have to get this burger. I don’t care if it’s twenty pounds and I’m being ripped off; I’m starving and it looks great.
‘Well, have fun,’ I say, plucking my bank card from the coffee table.
Stevie raises his eyebrows at me. ‘You’re coming, Nathaniel. This wasn’t a question.’
I smirk. I know Stevie is serious when he full-names me.
‘Why?’ I say. ‘You know I’ll hate it. Just leave me here, I’ll be fine. I’ll watch sport or something.’
‘You hate sport.’
‘I also hate going to fancy parties in fancy dress,’ I quip, pointing my bank card at him.
‘I can’t leave you by yourself on a Saturday night.’
‘I’m a big boy,’ I say, giving a fist pump as my order goes through. ‘Oh shit!’ I look up at Stevie desperately. ‘It’s not going to be here for an hour. Are you kidding me?’
Stevie rolls his eyes. ‘Look, I’ll sort your outfit. It’ll be fun. You’re not spending your second Saturday night in London sitting in this flat by yourself.’
‘Fine,’ I mutter, all defiant energy having left my body the moment my burger slipped out of my fingers and into standstill traffic.
‘Great.’ Stevie punches my arm. ‘I’ll be back later with your outfit. Enjoy your burger. We need to leave here at nine.’
I go to reply when Mom’s name flashes on my screen.
‘Wait, Stevie, Mom is calling now!’ I call after him. ‘Can’t you just …’
