Page 51 of Begin Again Again

“Oh, I remember. I mean, you were that kind of girl when you were drinking, but not anymore.”

Beth chewed her inner cheek.

“I’m not trying to say you’re not hot,” Lara continued. “You’re gorgeous. But since you’ve been sober, I’ve watched you flounder on Tinder and Hinge and Bumble—”

“That was me trying to set up walking dates during lockdown! That wasn’treal.”

“Or it wasall too real. Come on, you’re just not cut out for hook-ups.”

“Back that up,” Beth said, genuinely hurt. “Prove it!”

“Okay, you’re always making jokes on your profiles.”

“What’s wrong with jokes?”

Lara rolled her eyes. “Men don’t want to fuck girls that make jokes.”

“How do you—”

“They mightdategirls who make jokes,” Lara interrupted. “But they don’t want to hook up with them because they seem like too much work.”

“It’s too much work to laugh now?”

Lara sipped her Chardonnay.

“What’s your point, anyway?” Beth demanded. “That I can’t handle someone like Byron?”

“No. But maybe you should be trying to find someone serious, not fucking around with a twenty-five-year-old.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s been a while since Stephen, maybe you’re ready for something more… productive?”

“Mmmhmm.”

And with that, she and Lara returned their attention to Drag Race, neither of them speaking until it was time to say goodnight.

Beth reached for her Urban Decay highlighter palette. Her brush hovered over ‘Spotlight’ before settling on ‘Sin.’ Why half ass it? She dusted her face in the powder until her cheekbones and temples glimmered.

Maybe Lara had a point, and she was more ‘unstoppable dork’ than ‘sex kitten’ these days. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t spend time with Byron. Just thinking his name filled her stomach with butterflies and being so head over heels felt bright and new in a year that was anything but. Their situationship would probably fizzle out the way they usually did. And if it all went to shit and he hurt her? Well… it wouldn’t be great, but she’d come back from worse.

She applied Dior Addict lip gloss in two wet arches and studied her mouth. Her top lip was thinner than she’d like. She’d considered filler but every time someone on TV had filler, Beth stared at their mouths whenever they were on-screen. That wouldn’t be worth the trade-off. Her friend Connie said expensive places were more subtle, but everyone said that, and Beth stared all the same. Probably better to stick with her normal lips. She stepped back, taking herself in. She was wearing her favourite black velvet mini-dress and a heavy gold necklace. She looked nice, but a little boring for a burlesque show. She had a sudden image of herself surrounded by willowy teens in Billie Eilish tracksuits and chokers. What if she looked old? What if she looked like Byron’s mum? She grimaced at her reflection. “Fucking hell.”

“What?” Lara stuck her head around the bathroom door. “What’s up?”

We’re not even knocking now?

Beth made herself smile. “Do you think this look is too mid-2000s?”

“Your age or your outfit?”

“Don’t flatter me. You know I’m ’91.”

“Yeah, but you have the skin of a baby peach.” Lara sat on the edge of the bath, a glass of Chardonnay on her knee. “Don’t stress. You look cute.”

“Thanks.” Beth chewed at her lip, fucking up the Dior. She picked up the tube and reapplied.

Lara sipped her wine. “Is lover boy far away?”

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