Cwtch Me If You Can, Page 2

  Cathy sighs, puts down the tea on some of my many novelty coasters (some people buy pencils or bookmarks when they visit a museum or go on holiday – but I buy coasters), and then marches over to my window, throwing open the curtains.

  I cringe from the light – the sun is setting, and the amber glow is just hitting my window. I pull the covers up over my head, only for Cathy to yank them back. She stands amongst my dirty clothes, hands on hips, pursing her lips and looking just like her mother.

  ‘You look like your mum,’ I tell her.

  ‘And you,’ she replies bluntly, ‘look like hell.’

  ‘I got dumped on Valentine’s Day,’ I tell her, like she doesn’t already know. I bet everyone knows – I mean, how many people get dumped on Valentine’s Day anyway? ‘I’m allowed to look like hell. I have no faith in romance any more.’

  I try to pull my sheets and duvet back from her, but fail. So, I lean down and reach for another piece of pizza. A loose bit of pepperoni falls onto my pyjama shorts, and I pick it up quickly, popping it into my mouth. There’s a faint, greasy red mark left, though. Damn, that’s going to stain.

  Cathy, my best friend and stand-in mother while I’m living with her, huffs. She’s only wearing leggings and an old Wicked! t-shirt, blonde hair pulled back in a plait, but she looks way better than I imagine I do.

  ‘Help yourself,’ I say, after swallowing, gesturing at the pizza box on the floor.

  She shakes her head at me. ‘You have work at nine a.m. tomorrow, Al. You’ve got to pull yourself together. Shit happens. People break up. And, let’s face it, Will wasn’t even that attractive.’

  ‘He was.’

  Cathy snorts. ‘Maybe to you. You were in love with him. But his ears were too big, his eyes were too close together, he was always bringing dirt into the house because he’d never wipe his feet on the mat outside. He dropped out of his one single college class, because his FIFA football team was more important than his homework. And he was too lazy to even try to get a job after he got fired from the last one. He didn’t even like drinking tea, for God’s sake!’

  Now it’s my turn to purse my lips. Okay, so maybe she has a point (or several) but it still hurts that Will dumped me so brutally. I loved him. Love wasn’t a switch I could just turn off because we weren’t together any more.

  And I know that Cathy’s just trying to help me, make me feel better. Her methods seem a little harsh to me right now, but I know I’ll thank her later. I always do.

  ‘Well, not everyone likes tea.’

  My best friend rolls her eyes. ‘You’re ridiculous, Alex. Face it – Will was a loser, and you were too in love with him to see it. Pull yourself together.’

  ‘But I loved him,’ I moan. ‘I need time to heal.’

  Cathy smiles at me fondly, sitting on the edge on my bed. She’s always telling me that I’m too much of a romantic, and that I need to ‘check back into reality’. She has had a couple of boyfriends, but I don’t think she’s ever actually been in love.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ I insist.

  ‘I understand that he was a loser and that you deserve better, and that whoever this other girl is, she’d better hope he doesn’t treat her like that, too. And I understand that you have work tomorrow that you cannot be late for.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with it, Mum?’

  ‘I’m just saying.’ Her voice is softer now, and she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘You can’t mope around here forever. We’re watching Hollyoaks after tea, so get up, wash your hair, clean up in here a bit, and come down to watch it with us. And for God’s sake, put those pyjamas in the wash. They’ll stink.’

  ‘They don’t stink…’

  ‘It smells like something died in here,’ she tells me.

  ‘All my hope and belief in true love and romance died. Have some compassion.’

  Cathy laughs, then opens my windows wide and sprays some of my perfume into the air before picking up her mug of tea and leaving me.

  I want to pull the covers back up over my head and sleep until I have to get up for work tomorrow morning, but I know that Cathy’s right. She’s always right.

  Cathy and I have been friends since our GCSE years, when we were the only two girls in our small Spanish class.

  Everyone always said we’re like chalk and cheese – I act on impulse and follow my gut, but Cathy likes to think out every possible consequence of her actions before doing anything. I fall in love, Cathy does not. Cathy can cook, and I defrost ready meals in the microwave. I’ve got dark skin, thanks to some Indian heritage on my dad’s side, and Cathy’s so fair that she burns even in a little bit of sunshine.

  But we’ve been firm friends for years, in spite of all that.

  I’d been terrified when Cathy told me she was going to Cardiff University, studying French and German. I’d dropped out of Sixth Form by then because I was struggling too much, and I’d picked up a job in Tesco instead. I panicked that she’d move on with her life at uni and forget all about me.

  But Cathy wasn’t about to leave me behind. She was the one who convinced me to move in with her and two other girls in their second year of uni, and to start going to some college classes. She’s always believed in me way more than I believe in myself.

  The two other girls we live with, Ellie and Julia, shared a flat with Cathy during her first year. The guys they lived with were absolute pigs, I’m told, so the girls bonded and got a house together for this year without them.

  So once I’ve done as Cathy said, and cleaned myself and my room up, I go downstairs to watch Hollyoaks.

  ‘Thank God,’ Cathy says, as I join them. ‘I thought we were going to have to go up and pull you out of your pit of self-pity.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I sigh. ‘Just, you know, heartbroken.’

  ‘Always with the melodrama,’ laughs Julia. But then her face turns serious, and her mouth twists in sympathy. She tucks her legs up beneath her on the sofa. ‘You were a mess when you got home. I’ve never seen you that badly drunk before.’

  ‘Mmph.’

  Usually I handle my drink better; I know when to switch to a soft drink and leave the alcohol alone. But Friday night, I’d drunk that rosé with reckless abandon.

  ‘Seriously, I know it was rough, being Valentine’s Day, and all, but –’

  ‘But nothing, Jules,’ Ellie interrupts, jumping to my defence before I can speak for myself. ‘The slime-ball went straight to jump into bed with that other girl.’

  ‘We don’t know that they were having sex,’ Cathy calls from the kitchen, where she’s making tea for us all, ever the voice of reason. ‘I mean, we don’t even know who she is.’

  ‘How much do you know about her?’ Julia asks, forgetting to be gentle and feel sorry for me, and getting excited. ‘Maybe we can find her on Facebook.’

  ‘We are not looking up the other woman on Facebook,’ Ellie snaps, rolling her eyes. ‘We’re turning a blind eye to Alex’s ex-boyfriend for the next hour and watching Hollyoaks. Okay?’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Julia mumbles. She gives me a smile like we are sharing a secret, rolling her eyes at Ellie, and then wanders out into the kitchen to help Cathy bring the tea in.

  I manage to forget about Will for the next hour, but afterwards, I think out loud, ‘I should go back to Bella Italia tomorrow, to try and find that guy.’

  ‘What guy?’ Jules asks, her tired, drooping eyes snapping open.

  ‘There’s another guy?’ Cathy sounds like she is totally fed up with me, and disbelief is written all over her face. But she smiles at me a little. ‘Christ, and I thought you were too hung up on Will to even notice anyone else.’

  ‘There’s not a guy, exactly,’ I try to explain. ‘It’s just – the waiter, from the restaurant. Sean. He sort of sat with me while I was crying over Will and sorted me out a taxi home.’

  ‘That was good of him,’ Ellie says. ‘But why do you need to find him?’

  ‘He paid for the taxi home f
or me. And I was so drunk I forgot about paying the bill for the meal – and with three courses and all the wine, it won’t have been cheap. I should go back and, you know, sort it out. Pay him back.’

  I see the other girls exchanging glances. Julia speaks: ‘This guy sounds like your knight in shining armour, Al.’

  ‘Shining armour,’ I say, ‘or a dirty apron.’

  Reasons to Never Ever Ever Date Again

  • It’ll take a long time to get over Will

  • Guys are idiots

  • They will break up with me on romantic dates

  • They will break my heart and probably never think about me again

  • Romance is dead

  Chapter Three

  When I’m not reading cheesy romance novels or trying to do my coursework, I work in one of the many Starbucks in Cardiff. Sometimes the customers can be annoying, but it pays okay, and I love the smell of fresh coffee.

  It’s Wednesday afternoon, and slow. There’s a guy in the corner by the window on a laptop, a couple of girls at a table catching up with each other, and a middle-aged couple with a few John Lewis carrier bags.

  I slump against the counter, sighing heavily. Cerys, the other girl working with me at the moment, knows all about me and Will. A friend of hers was at Bella Italia on Friday and saw the whole thing.

  Talk about humiliating.

  And to make things worse, she hasn’t shut up about it. I’ve asked her to stop, but she’s relentless. She’s been with her girlfriend for four years, so I think she must love hearing other people’s love-life dramas.

  And she wants to know all about the other girl. She’s itching to go onto Will’s Facebook page and try to figure out who the girl he left me for is. Not in a mean way, just nosy.

  I tell her about Sean the waiter, too. I don’t mention what nice hair he had, but when she asks me if he was fit, I shrug and say, ‘I guess.’

  I’d tried to find him on Monday – I went into Bella Italia in the early evening and asked if he was working. He wasn’t.

  ‘It’s just,’ I said, ‘I was here on Friday, and I sort of accidentally left without paying, and…’

  ‘Oh. You’re the girl who got dumped, aren’t you?’

  My cheeks flamed. ‘Yes. That’s me. And I wanted to pay what I owe –’

  ‘Sean already settled the bill for you.’

  ‘That’s very generous of him, but –’

  ‘You’ll have to take it up with Sean.’

  ‘Well,’ I sighed, ‘could you tell me when he’s working?’

  ‘Not until Thursday.’

  Since I haven’t got any other way to contact him, I make the decision to go back again on Thursday to pay him back. I should’ve asked for his last name. Then I could’ve looked him up on Facebook, and tried to contact him that way.

  The door opens, and Cerys and I both stand up straight.

  It’s two guys and a girl, around my age, and they browse the baked treats before shuffling up, one by one, to the counter, giving Cerys their orders to-go and waiting for me to make them up.

  When I finish the third drink, I turn to put it down on the counter.

  ‘Latte, extra espresso,’ I say, handing it to the guy. He looks familiar, but I can’t place him… I guess I’ve probably seen him around the town some time.

  ‘Hey,’ he says brightly, like he knows me, or something. ‘Alex.’

  I frown at him, racking my brain trying to figure out who the hell this guy (this very attractive guy, I might add) is. ‘Um, yeah… Sorry, who are you?’

  His left eyebrow quirks up. ‘You don’t recognise me?’

  I frown deeper, squinting at him, and thinking harder. ‘Sorry. No. Did we maybe… meet at a party, or something?’ I’m trying to think where he might know me from. Is he one of Will’s friends? Is he in my college class?

  He doesn’t look disappointed, though, just smiles wider. God, that smile could make a girl swoon, I think.

  Thick, brown hair with slight curls in sexy disarray, and bright green eyes. He’s got glasses on – rectangular black frames that suit him well – and he looks incredible in a green jumper and worn jeans. He looks like a guy you’d be happy to take home to meet your parents. Cathy would most definitely approve.

  His eyes flicker down, to the open neck of my blouse, and for a minute I think he’s actually being a prat to look so obviously at my cleavage, until he says –

  ‘You’re still wearing it.’

  ‘Wearing what?’

  ‘The necklace.’

  I touch a hand to my necklace. Even if I’m mad at Will, I haven’t got over him just yet.

  Then something slides into place in my brain.

  ‘Ohmigod. Sean?’

  ‘Ah.’ He flashes me that smile again. ‘So you do remember me.’

  ‘God. Oh, my God. Listen, I’m so sorry about Friday night. I didn’t mean to, you know, hijack your night when you were working, or anything, and I’m sorry for being such a pain. And you have to let me pay you back for the taxi and the food. I tried to find you Monday at the restaurant but they told me you weren’t working until tomorrow…’

  I stop for air, having talked a mile a minute, and Sean laughs. It’s a deep, low laugh that makes my belly feel warm and full of butterflies.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. You were having a really rough night, and I’m glad I could help.’

  ‘Seriously, though, you have to let me pay you back. How much was it? I have some cash in my purse, so I can pay you back at least a bit now, and I can bring you the rest tomorrow, when you’re working, or –’

  ‘Really, don’t worry. I’ll consider it a Good Samaritan act,’ he jokes. ‘Use it to build up my good karma.’ He lifts his latte toward me in a gesture like he’s going to say ‘cheers’. ‘I’ll catch you round, Alex.’

  ‘See – see you round,’ I stammer in reply, watching him go back to his friends near the door, and they all leave.

  Cerys grabs me by the shoulders, giving me a little shake. ‘That boy could not be any cuter if he tried.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that…’

  ‘Why didn’t you give him your number? Even if you don’t want to go out with him, that’s the kind of guy you want to keep around. Or you should’ve asked for his number.’

  ‘I told you earlier – I’ve sworn off all guys.’

  ‘Sweetie, he wasn’t just a guy. He was a god. I can still appreciate an attractive guy when I see one.’

  I snort, shaking my head at her.

  I’ve promised myself I won’t date again for a while, until I’m properly over Will, and Sean is exactly the kind of guy who would make me forget about that promise. It’s a good thing I’ll probably never see him again.

  Chapter Four

  The lights flash between white and blue and purple, and back again. I bounce on my feet, body swaying side to side, and sigh. Cathy doesn’t notice. She’s got her arms above her head, hips sashaying in time with the music, eyes drooping from adrenaline and alcohol. I have no idea where Ellie and Julia have buggered off to, but I wish they’d come back. If they’ve gone home and left me here, I’ll kill them.

  Some guy sidles up behind me, puts his hands on my hips and pulls me against him.

  Reason five billion and seven why I hate clubbing.

  I peel his hands off me, glaring at him over my shoulder. He just smiles back, not getting the message. Great. Just what I need. I tell him where to go, shouting to be heard over the pounding music, and he holds his hands up in surrender, stumbling back a step.

  ‘Whoa, chill out,’ he slurs, but walks away.

  I grab Cathy’s arm to get her attention, and her eyes snap open, taking a few seconds to focus on me. ‘I’m going outside. I need some air.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll be at the bar. Come find me there. Do you want me to get you another drink?’

  Another drink would make this more bearable, but I’m not in the mood for it. I tell her so, and she nods, walking with me hal
fway before I head off toward the doors. I have to elbow my way through swarms of people crowding to get to the bar or the dance floor, but eventually I break out into the cold night air, and gulp down a big breath.

  It’s the last Saturday before Easter, late in March. Next weekend, most people will be going home. The uni students will have finished lectures for the term, and people in work will be making the most of the bank holiday to go see their families or take a well-earned break. This is the last chance most of us have to go out with our friends until after exams.

  And even though it has been almost two months since Will broke up with me, it still stings. I’m still swearing off all guys, much to Cathy’s surprise. Will has ruined any belief I had in romance.

  I wrap my arms around myself, teeth chattering from the cold. I am only wearing shorts and a red silky camisole, and now, away from all the sweaty, dancing people back inside, I’m freezing.

  I start to debate going back inside, or maybe just going home, when a voice interrupts my thoughts.

  ‘Not your sort of thing either, huh?’

  I look over to my left, and my jaw drops. He is smiling shyly, pushing back his hair with one hand and messing it up, as he steps closer to me.

  ‘Sean,’ I choke out. ‘Hi.’

  Okay, so even if I have promised myself I’m not going to date any other guys for a long while yet, I’ve been keeping an eye out for Sean. I reckon he must be studying at Cardiff. But it’s a big place, and it’s not that easy to just run into someone.

  Which has either been really lucky, or unlucky.

  He’s been back into my Starbucks a few times – twice when we were so busy I could only throw him a fleeting smile before making up more orders, and a couple of times when I wasn’t there. Cerys would tell me the next time we were on together, ‘Your fit friend came in the other day.’

  ‘Did he ask about me?’ I couldn’t help myself.

  ‘He just said, ‘I guess Alex isn’t on today.’ And I said, ‘Nope.’’

  Other than that, I haven’t seen him.

  And now he’s here, of all places, when I have hair sticking to the back of my neck and probably stink of booze and sweat from just being in the club. I can hardly believe it.