After visiting many bars, and drinking many drinks, I’m really starting to feel tipsy. It’s 2 a.m. now so we’ve graduated from bars to clubs. We’re currently in Saturn, a nightclub largely frequented by students, but I think everyone is drunk enough to fit right in.
There’s me, Millsy, Ruby, her cousin Gemma, and then there’s Erica and Lizzy, who Millsy tells me are her new couple friends – they’re not a couple together, they both have husbands, so the six of them all hang around together and do couple stuff. I imagine Millsy not being invited to take part in couple stuff with his friend is like me not being invited to do baby stuff with mine. I totally get how infuriating it is.
Everyone, apart from me and Millsy, is on the dance floor. Instead of busting moves we’re popping the cork on yet another bottle of fizz, tucked away in a dark, private corner of the club that Millsy reserved just for the occasion.
‘I’m having such a good time,’ I shout to him over the music.
‘I can tell,’ he replies. ‘You look so happy.’
‘I am happy,’ I shout back. ‘So much stuff just feels so right. When I got ready earlier, and I was doing my hair and make-up, I actually felt like I was looking at myself, for the first time since my makeover, even in this tiny black sparkly dress. This is me now and I love it.’
With great alcohol consumption comes great self-confidence.
‘You look amazing,’ he shouts. ‘And this new self-confidence is only making you seem sexier.’
I’m starting to realise how unstable self-confidence can be. You can think you have it, question it, find more – you can maybe, just maybe, even have a little too much of it at times. It’s such a fluid state that changes day to day. On the one hand, I feel so much more confident now that I stand out more, but with that comes a vulnerability. Sometimes I feel more myself, other times I feel like a fraud. But when I’m around Millsy I just feel so at peace with who I am. I feel as if he sees me, not what I’m wearing. He’s always seen me. And whether I’m a lonely jilted blonde in the corner of a bar or a wild redhead dancing on a table to The Weeknd in a club (honestly, you should have seen me earlier!), it doesn’t matter; Millsy has always looked at me in the same way.
We’ve been sitting pretty close together so that we can talk, practically screaming into each other’s ears at point-blank range so that we can hear what the other is saying.
I move back a little, to look into Millsy’s eyes. He’s so sweet and I feel so guilty. The Jay stuff has been weighing so heavy on me all day. As soon as I start enjoying myself it pops back into my head and I feel so terrible.
‘We need to talk,’ I tell him.
‘About what?’ he asks.
‘About… about…’
I swear someone just turned the music up.
‘Can we go someplace quieter?’ I ask.
‘Sure,’ he replies.
We leave Saturn and walk down the road a little to where the massive tour bus is parked. Everyone knows the drill. We can just come back here at any point. It’s great, like a mobile chair, toilet and bed, with no need to queue and no taxi required either.
The bus driver opens the door to let us on. Millsy gives him a large tip and asks him if he’d like to wander to the twenty-four-hour café across the road to grab a decent hot cup of coffee. He’s more than happy to do so.
‘We’ve got the bus to ourselves,’ Millsy says. ‘I thought it might be weird chatting with the driver here.’
‘Yeah, definitely,’ I reply with a nervous giggle.
We walk up the stairs and along past the sleeping bunks, towards the back of the bus where there is a sort of living room. A U-shaped sofa wraps around the walls, surrounded by large windows that you can see out of, but no one can see in.
‘I’ll get us a drink,’ Millsy says.
I’m sure we’ve had enough but it might make this conversation go a little more smoothly.
I watch Millsy as he grabs a bottle of Prosecco from the fridge.
‘Ruby’s favourite,’ he says as he pours it. ‘I’m more of a champagne man myself… who’s actually more of a beer man, but it’s Ruby’s night, right?’
I laugh.
He’s such a sweetheart, doing all this for his friend, giving her a proper send-off into married life. Millsy looks great tonight too. He’s wearing blue trousers and one of his tight-fitting white shirts, which I’m not sure are actually supposed to be tight-fitting, I think they just look that way as they stretch over his muscles. He’s got two buttons undone, just as he had the night I met him, which only adds to the strange sense of déjà vu I keep experiencing.
‘So what’s up?’ he says sitting down next to me, pushing a drink into my hand. ‘You seem kind of freaked out.’
‘I fucked up,’ I blurt. ‘I haven’t been totally honest with you and it’s killing me.’
Millsy takes my hand in his.
‘Hey, Cara, come on, it’s me,’ he says. ‘You know you can tell me anything.’
‘I went on a date with Jay,’ I blurt. ‘Last night. I went for dinner with him. I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you hated him and figured that, if it was a bad date, I could just forget about it. But I thought it was going to be good, because he seemed so great, but you were right, he’s a dick. He’s an absolute dick. I should have listened to you. But nothing happened, I swear, nothing at all.’
I am drunk and I am babbling. I’m not even sure how much sense that made.
‘Are you finished?’ Millsy asks me.
‘Yes,’ I say weakly. I can’t read him. I don’t know if he’s mad or upset or what.
‘I’m sorry you had a bad date,’ he says. ‘I should have done more to warn you off him, but you’re a grown woman. I wanted you to make your own mind up about people.’
Oh, God, he feels sorry for me. Now I feel even worse.
‘I’m clearly a shit judge of character,’ I say. ‘I was with my ex for ages before I realised how possessive and jealous he was getting.’
‘That’s exactly why you need to figure people out on your own though,’ Millsy says.
‘Wait, why aren’t you mad at me?’ I can’t help but ask. It’s not that I want him to be, I’m just confused.
‘Am I crazy about you lying to me? Of course not. Have I told bigger lies in the past? Absolutely.’
‘I know but—’
‘Cara, just forget about it,’ Millsy insists. ‘I’m glad you’re OK.’
‘I don’t ever want to see Jay again.’
It feels important to get that out there just in case it doesn’t go without saying.
‘Well, that makes two of us,’ he replies with a laugh. ‘No such luck for me. What did he say to upset you so much?’
‘Oh, a bunch of stuff,’ I reply.
‘He was talking shit about me, wasn’t he?’
I don’t want to hurt Millsy’s feelings by telling him what Jay thinks of him.
‘In Scotland, he told me about some cheating stuff,’ I say. ‘And I guess everything stems from that.’
‘Wait, he told you about that?’
‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘Is it true?’
‘You still went out with him, knowing that? That doesn’t sound like you at all.’
‘Are we even talking about the same thing?’ I ask.
Why would any of that stop me from going out with Jay?
‘What are you referring to?’ Millsy says.
‘Jay told me that you slept with his girlfriend,’ I say. ‘He said that he was seeing someone and you slept with her.’
‘Unbelievable,’ Millsy says. He actually looks really annoyed now. ‘That’s what he told you? That I slept with his girlfriend? No, no. He slept with the girl I was seeing. Remember the waitress, from the reunion? That’s Jane. She wasn’t my girlfriend, but I was dating her, and it felt like things were starting to go somewhere, and then she met Jay. He didn’t even want to steal her, he just wanted to sleep with her. But he took her from me, so easily, and I knew he would
try to do the same with you.’
‘OK, if you had told me that this was why you hated him, it would have made a lot more sense,’ I say. ‘I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.’
‘It was a while ago now,’ he says. ‘The wounds are getting smaller, but they open up sometimes. But, if he’s telling people that it was the other way around… I should confront him.’
I’m not sure if he’s looking for his phone or if, in his drunken state, he thinks paying Jay a visit right now is a good idea, but I’m not taking any chances.
‘You absolutely shouldn’t,’ I insist. ‘He lives miles away, you’re very drunk, your biggest fear is being hit in the face, you have a wedding tomorrow, remember.’
Millsy is already on his feet so I push him back down onto the sofa and sit myself down on top of him. I’m facing him, sitting on his lap, holding his wrists with my hands. It feels as if I’ve got him restrained but I’m sure that he’s more than strong enough to put me to one side and storm out of here.
‘Do you know why I’m not mad at you?’ Millsy says, suddenly a lot calmer.
‘Why?’ I ask.
‘Because Jay took Jane from me so easily and there was nothing I could have done. And, I suppose, he tried to take you away from me too, but you’ve seen through him. I didn’t have to stop you – you binned him off on your own.’
‘As funny as it sounds, I would never let a boy come between us,’ I tell him with a smile. ‘Especially not a disgusting liar like Jay.’
‘I’m just so glad I didn’t lose you to him,’ Millsy says sincerely. ‘You’re too important to me.’
‘Come on, Millsy, we’ll be friends forever. After everything we’ve been through this summer. We’ve nearly ruined every event we’ve been to. I don’t doubt for a second that we we’ll ruin the weddings,’ I joke. At least I hope I’m joking.
‘Well, there is no one I'd rather ruin weddings with than you,’ he tells me.
‘You too,’ I reply. ‘It's going to be so weird when I have to start going to these things alone again.’
‘Unless…’
‘Well, yeah, unless we keep up the pact forever, but I'd like to think at least one of us will find love at some point,’ I say with a laugh, but then I notice Millsy isn’t amused. He looks so serious, and he rarely ever looks serious. ‘I don’t know why you’re frowning, because you stand more of a chance than I do.’
‘You’re not getting this at all, are you?’ he says.
‘Getting what?’ I reply, pretty much proving him right.
‘This,’ he says.
I’m already sitting on top of him but Millsy finds a way to pull my body closer before reaching up and pulling my lips towards his. We kiss for a few seconds before he lets me go. It’s as if he’s testing the waters, seeing how I respond, trying to work out if I'm into it.
It isn’t just a kiss though, it’s something else, because feelings bubble up inside me that I have been trying to keep hidden under the surface. I want Millsy to kiss me again. I think I’ve wanted him to kiss me for a while. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a kiss like it.
He stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something. He actually looks pretty nervous.
I don’t even know what to say. I just know that I want to kiss him again.
I grab his face and pull it towards mine. Our first kiss was gentle but this one is something else entirely. There’s something wild about it, something so desperate. I close my eyes tightly shut, hardly able to believe this is actually happening. I know I’ve had a lot to drink, but I’m not hallucinating this, am I? It seems too good to be true.
Whether I’m imagining this or not, I’m making the most of it. Before I know what I’m doing I’m unbuttoning Millsy’s shirt. Yes, me, making the first unbuttoning move. This isn’t like me at all. I’m not confident like this, not with men. There’s just something about Millsy that is making this so easy, that’s making me feel as if I can do anything I want.
He follows my lead, gently running a hand up my back before dragging it back down, the zip of my dress between his fingers. I let go of him for a second, only to allow my dress to slip off. Millsy unhooks my bra with a level of skill I didn’t realise any man possessed. I remove his shirt before tangling myself up in his arms again. Amid all of this, we barely part lips for more than a second.
Is this what we’ve been building towards, all of these weeks? Thinking that things were totally platonic, all the while harbouring these feelings for one another? I have absolutely no idea, but this feels right. It feels so, so impossibly right that it’s hard to even consider what comes next. Right now I’m just enjoying the moment and we’ll deal with tomorrow when we get there – not that I’m in any rush for tonight to be over.
27
My hangover taps me awake, right between my eyes, with an ice pick.
The headache is the first thing I notice. Then it’s the pain in my back. Finally the heavy feeling across my body, but that isn’t from drinking too much or getting up to all sorts in a tour-bus bunk all night, it’s Millsy’s arm. He’s behind me, spooning me, in this sleeping bunk that is absolutely only intended for one person. It would be nice if I weren’t so freaked out because I, you know, had sex with my best friend.
I’m too scared to move, too scared to wake him up, too scared to face the reality of what I’ve done. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to do it, but just because I wanted to doesn’t mean that I should have. He isn’t just my best friend, he’s my landlord. More than that, though, he’s Millsy. He’s a good-time kind of guy; he doesn’t want a girlfriend. He hooks up with people and then he’s done with them, right? That’s what everyone keeps saying.
I can’t be like that though. I’m boring and monogamous. This is why I’m so annoyed that Lloyd is going to be at Flora’s wedding because, once things are over between me and someone I have slept with, I am too awkward to ever make eye contact with them again. I only want to sleep with people I have strong feelings for – I don’t want hook-ups with my friends – and that’s the problem. Somehow I have only just realised it, but I also feel as if I might have known all along: I have strong feelings for Millsy. I spent so long telling myself again and again that we were just friends, trying not to worry about why he didn’t fancy me when he’ll supposedly chase anything in a skirt, that I was kidding myself, pushing to the back of my mind that my feelings for him were only getting stronger by the day.
And now here we are. The last thing I expected, when we came up with our plus-one pact, was for either of us to get hurt, and yet here I am, sabotaging the best friendship I’ve ever had and the coolest flat I’ve ever lived in, for what? A quick night of passion? Well, OK, it wasn’t exactly quick, and the fact that I was so emboldened by a combination of alcohol, and Millsy’s unique way of making me feel amazing about myself, gave me this level of self-confidence that I’ve never experienced in the bedroom (or in the tour-bus bunk, in our case) that just made it the absolute best. It was just sex though, and just sex just isn’t worth it.
I can hear someone snoring. It’s a sort of gentle, almost feminine snore, if there is such a thing. That must mean that other people are asleep on the bus too. It’s only 6 a.m. We all agreed to set our alarms for 8.30 a.m. so that we could start getting ready for the wedding, which is today. I feel as if people hardly ever have their hen parties/stag dos the night before their wedding any more. I know that I wouldn’t do it; it feels like flying too close to the sun. You don’t have to be a genius to figure out how many things could potentially go wrong by having wild parties the night before the big day. Anyone who has ever seen one of the Hangover movies could advise you against it. But Millsy said that it was what Ruby wanted. One last crazy night out like the good old days to see her into married life with a bang.
I try to gently wiggle free from Millsy’s embrace but as soon as I start getting anywhere he squeezes me tighter in his sleep. Brilliant, just brilliant, I'm going to have to wake him up if I wan
t to get out of here, and I want to get out of here so badly right now. I know that it’s Ruby’s wedding day, and that I said that I would be there, and I will, but right now I just want to get out of here.
‘Millsy,’ I whisper, tapping him on the arm that’s wrapped around me. ‘Millsy.’
I wiggle my body to try and wake him.
‘Oh, morning,’ he says sleepily. ‘You OK?’
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m good,’ I say casually – although I don’t sound casual at all. ‘I just, I need to go.’
‘What? Is everything OK?’
He takes back his arm and lifts himself up onto his elbows. Poor guy, he isn’t even awake yet. He’s looking at me through one eye because he’s still half asleep.
‘Oh, yeah, it’s fine, it’s just… one of my hair extensions has come loose – it’s hanging off. It’s hurting a little, pulling on my hair, and I’ll need it sorting in time for the wedding, so I’m going to go now.’
‘Shit, I didn’t do that, did I?’
‘No, no,’ I quickly insist. ‘Zander said this could happen. It just needs fixing back in place.’
I feel terrible lying to him, but I don’t know what else to say.
‘I can come with you,’ he says. ‘Just let me find my clothes.’
‘Oh, no, it’s fine,’ I reply. ‘You know how long they took to put in the first time. It’s going to take more than a quick brush to fix this mess. You need to be here for all the wedding morning stuff with Ruby.’
‘I’ll see you at the wedding, then?’ he says.
‘Yeah, see you there,’ I tell him.
I notice him lean towards me – to hug me, I think – but I pretend not to notice. I don’t look to see how he reacts, trying so desperately hard to style all of this out as cool and casual, even though I am neither of those things right now.
The Plus One Pact Page 20