‘I love pesto!’ I say, a little too enthusiastically. And loudly because I hear someone across the room laugh.
‘Who doesn’t? Don’t mind him. He’s obsessed with lunch,’ Mia intervenes, trying to save me.
Caitlin scans us both. Oh dear, instant fail. ‘Well, it’s good to meet you both. The teacher over there… Tommy?’
I glance at Mia and see her clench her teeth at the very mention of his name.
‘He’s mentioned a welcome drink at The Otter’s Pocket after school if you’re free. Would be great to have you there,’ she says, sweetly.
‘Yeah, we can go. Right, Mia?’ I say, perhaps a little too quickly, elbowing her.
‘I don’t turn down pub invitations so yes, we will be there,’ Mia replies.
She moves on to the next people in the room as I stare into space, wondering how and when I became such a buffoon when it came to the opposite sex. Is it genetic? Is it a product of too many teen years spent in my bedroom and not engaging with the world? Is it just not in my nature?
‘Did you just say you liked her box?’ Mia whispers as she’s out of earshot.
‘I did. I also asked if there was anything nice in her box.’
‘Classy, Eddie. Super classy.’
TWO
MIA
I dance everywhere I go. It’s a bad habit but also something I attribute to the natural rhythm and joy that just flows through me. Ed doesn’t agree. He thinks my dancing looks like I’m swatting away swarms of imaginary insects. Naturally, the kitchen sees the best of my moves but if we’re in a pub and I’ve had just the right amount of alcohol in my system then we are set to launch. Plus, I bloody LOVE this song.
‘Really?’ Ed says, watching me do my moves as he stands there waiting for our drinks to be served, his card hovering, waiting to tap the card machine. He’s so bloody efficient. I’m the sort who has to rummage through all four compartments of her handbag and both coat pockets to check it’s about my person, and even then I’ll try to pay with a library card.
‘This song was all over TikTok… Come on, I’ll teach you the moves,’ I say, dragging his arm towards an open space.
‘That would be a firm no,’ he replies, arms crossed stubbornly.
‘But it’s The Weeknd.’
‘No, technically it’s still Friday.’
‘No, the dude singing the song, that’s his name.’
‘That’s not a name.’
‘I actually despair of you.’
I break into a move and plant an elbow into a man next to me.
‘Control your girlfriend, mate,’ he mutters.
‘Not my girlfriend,’ Ed replies. ‘Thank God…’
I narrow my eyes at him. Oh, you would be so lucky to have this rhythm in your life, Eduardo. I don’t know why you fight it. I laugh and hug him and feel his body relent. It is my life’s mission to break this man’s barriers down.
‘You never told me about that bloke you’re seeing? That bloke you met on Plenty of Fish,’ he asks me.
I like that I can talk about my dating antics with Ed. He listens and offers counsel, but I think even he’ll admit my stories are a good source of entertainment too.
‘Oh, that’s not happening anymore,’ I explain.
‘Why not?’ he asks, disappointed. ‘You had sex with him, and you told me how much you enjoyed the event…’