Page 76 of Sex Ed

Caitlin.

ED

It’s midnight when I hear the knocking and for a moment, when my eyes spring open, I am slightly worried that Nigel has found that butt plug again and the noise is him throwing it around the room. However, I turn to see my clock, register the time and realise it’s coming from my front door. At this time? Is the building on fire? Christ, I hope not.

I sit up, scrambling around to find a T-shirt, and head to the door. As I open it, Mia falls into my flat, clearly quite drunk and unable to stand. I catch her.

‘Eddie,’ she says, resting her head against my cheek.

‘Mia? Wow, how drunk are you? How did you get here?’

‘I ran!’ she says, her body in a star shape and arms in a muscle man pose. ‘We have to talk!’ she exclaims, waving a finger in my face. ‘Nice boxers.’

‘Now? It’s kinda late…’

‘It’s not. It’s Saturday night. It’s a time for dancing,’ she says, breaking out some moves for me like she might be having some sort of fit.

I fold my arms, bemused. ‘What did you want to talk about?’

‘I went on a date with a man called Scott tonight. We met on Tinder.’ She loud-whispers the Tinder bit.

I nod. ‘I’m taking it that because you’re not with Scott at this moment then it didn’t go very well…’

Mia proceeds to charge through my flat, half dancing, half jogging. ‘Where’s Nigel?’

Most likely hiding given she’s burst in here so loudly. ‘How badly did it go with Scott?’ I ask, assuming her highly inebriated state to have a reason.

She stops running away and turns towards me, frowning. ‘He wouldn’t share his crisps with me,’ she slurs.

‘Well then, that’s a complete no-no,’ I joke.

She stands there for a moment and looks at me, her face sad and dejected. This isn’t the first time Mia has done this. We’ve had numerous drunken staff nights out that end in her chatting to me about her man woes. ‘Please tell me you’ve not come here for crisps?’

She laughs in a drunken, overly loud way and pushes my shoulder. I try to shush her. ‘Nooooo. I’ve had chips already but I couldn’t finish them, so I very kindly gave them to someone at a bus stop.’

‘Because you’re all about the give…’

‘You know me so well,’ she says, tears in her eyes.

I urge her to sit down on my sofa to steady herself but as I put a hand to her back, she grabs me and hugs me tightly. ‘We really do need to talk.’

‘We need to sober you up.’

‘I saw things tonight,’ she says, like she’s been haunted.

‘I’m not surprised, it’s the high street on a weekend. Everyone was probably drunk and misbehaving.’

‘Oh, it was a complete state. I saw someone flash tit at the kebab shop. But that’s not what I mean.’

I watch as her eyes roll about in her head. This might get quite painful, having to work out her half sentences like song lyrics. Why does she look so infinitely sad? Her eyes are just glazed over, looking at me like a cartoon deer.

‘Mia, did someone hurt you? Were you out and drinking alone? That’s never a great idea. You need to look out for yourself more.’

She pauses for a moment. ‘Why do you say things like that? Why do you care?’

I can’t quite read her tone. Is she accusing me of caring for my friend? My worry turns to confusion.

‘Because I worry about you.’

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