A Story of Now (17 page)

“None to…none.” She shrugs on her jacket and pulls up the zip.

“No problem.” He grins at her. “Was just checking. You already gave it to me last night.”

Wow, she must have really liked him last night. She doesn’t say a word. Whoever he is, this guy is too alert for her this morning. Her brain is still at the reboot stage and cannot do this level of nimble right now.

He picks up the guitar again and starts strumming.

That’s her cue to leave. “Uh, well, thanks for half your bed.” This is the best she can muster for manners right now.

“Half might be a stretch. You’re quite the blanket thief.” He plucks at the strings and smiles up at her.

“Stop trying to be charming.” She pulls her hair out from under her jacket collar. She can’t help giving him a small smile, though, as she shakes her head. “Nothing is going to work this morning.”

“Okay then,” he says, casual. “Well, see you later, Claire.”

Damn. She also told him her real name. Oops.

“See you.” She makes for the door, hits the pavements, and leaves the small, white worker’s terrace behind. Taking a deep breath, she heads for what she hopes is Ascot Street. She walks as quickly as her tender head allows and pulls out her phone. There is a little bit of battery left. Enough to see that there are also two missed calls from Robbie. And three messages that came in before the invitation to breakfast.

The first, sometime in the early hours of this morning.

Where did u go? Don’t u know you shld never, ever leave me it a party along. I do stupid tings
.

She smiles. Like forget how to type? Well, doesn’t he know he should never let her leave a party with random, floppy-haired strangers?

The next came in two hours ago.

So, I want to die. How r u? I have, I can announce, finally located the right adjective for this hangover.

And then, ten minutes later.

Okay, u didn’t ask, but I’m going to tell u. Adj: diabolical.

She smiles and then immediately frowns. Should she go to breakfast? Now, out in the harsh reality of daylight and her monstrous—she opts for monstrous—hangover, she’s second-guessing her decision to meet them. Mostly because she has no idea where to put that random kiss with Mia in the scheme of her night—let alone her life.

But then maybe she doesn’t need to, not if Mia isn’t weird about it. Maybe they can just put it down to a drunken party thing. Claire makes these types of hot-mess decisions when she’s drunk. She just has no idea how Mia will be about it. Mia doesn’t strike her as someone who does stupid trashy things that often. Then, she did make a comment about random inappropriate make outs, so maybe she is. Maybe Mia has some debauched potential Claire hasn’t discovered yet?

She might as well go to breakfast. It’s better than going home and facing her parents and however they’d like her to spend her day. She walks to the nearest street corner, gets her bearings, and heads for the café.

CHAPTER 22

She finds them in a booth in the back corner, already armed with coffee and a large pitcher of water.

“Hey!” Robbie says. He has pulled his hood over his head. Bright strands of hair curl around the edges.

“Hey.” She flops down next to him, groans, and leans her head on his shoulder.

He pats her cheek. “You came.”

“Just. It hurt to walk here.”

Mia pours a glass of water and slides it over to her. Then she smiles.

And it’s just a regular Mia smile. Not a weird or freaked out or uncomfortable we-made-out-last-night smile.
Maybe she doesn’t even remember
, Claire thinks. That would help. Or maybe she does, but it’s no big deal. Either way, she’s not being weird. Claire decides to take her cue from that.

“Hey, thanks.” She grabs for the water. The glass sleepover dude gave her didn’t even touch the sides of this hangover’s rampant thirst.

“How are you?” Mia asks, smiling as if she knows the answer already.

Claire grunts into her glass and keeps drinking.

Robbie laughs. “That good, huh? Me too. Last night was messy. Fun, but messy.”

“Agreed,” Claire mutters.

Mia leans forward. “And I must say you are rocking quite the panda eye this morning.”

Claire hurriedly swipes her thumbs under her eyes. They come up black. Oops. Maybe she should have looked in a mirror before she left that guy’s place. She uses the reflection on her phone screen to inspect the damage and clean up the worst of it with her fingers.

“Hang on a minute.” Robbie tips his head to the side, looks her up and down, and then narrows his eyes at her. “You’re still in your clothes from last night. And you didn’t stay with Nina. Could this be a walk of shame, missy?” He sniffs at her as if he’s going to be able to tell just from that.

She punches him in the shoulder. “Get away, you creep.” She slams back the rest of the glass of water. “And no. It’s a walk of shamelessly using a guy for his bed. To clarify.” She points at him. “Shamelessly using his bed
without
putting out. There is a line at which I will stop, shell out for a cab, and simply return to the bosom of the family McMansion.”

Robbie nods. “Good to know. Sadly there is no such line for me.”

Claire picks up a menu and briefly tries to make sense of the written word. “He was kind of hot, actually. Wish I remembered meeting him. Do you remember any of it?”

“Not a thing after the second party.”

“The second party?” Claire’s jaw drops. She possesses no recollection of any second party.

Mia laughs and shakes her head. “I am so glad I went home.”

Robbie nudges Claire. “Yeah, remember? Megan ditched her party and took us to the other one at that warehouse? Maybe he came with us, or maybe you found him there?” Robbie shrugs and turns back to his menu. “Anyway, I can’t keep a handle on my own night. I sure as hell can’t help you with yours.”

“Fair enough.” She tries to read the menu again but puts it down. Too hard.

“I wish I could remember this guy, though,” Robbie suddenly says.

Claire narrows her eyes at him. “Why?”

“Curiosity.” He shrugs. “Given what a bitch you can be on first meeting, for a guy to be into you, he either finds you so hot he can’t resist. Or charming. There’s no mistaking you’re hot. But charming?” He shakes his head. “That’d have to be an acquired taste.”

“Wow,” Claire mutters. “Did you get me to come here just so you could drop truth bombs on the wreckage of my night?”

He laughs and flips the menu around between his fingers. “Anyway, I personally find you very charming.”

“Just not hot.”

“Yeah, sorry.” He nudges her shoulder again. “That’s an acquired taste problem.”

They order their food. Claire wings it and asks the waiter to bring whatever breakfast option has the most bacon in it. Somewhere between waking and now, she has developed a hankering for grease and salt. Lots of it.

Robbie reads them their stars from the paper while they wait. “Ooh, mine says to relax after a busy week and to lock down some time with friends. Win! I shall do as it commands. Now, Mia.” He runs a finger along the page.

“It’s okay,” Mia mutters. “I can pretty much guess how today is going to turn out.”

“Too bad.” He leans over the page. “You are amazing, incredible, and beautiful, and you are so gifted and intelligent you don’t even need to study for your exams. Instead, you should spend all your time with your dearest friend Rob—”

“Hush and tell me the real one, you idiot.” Mia reaches over the table and slaps his wrist.

He laughs and takes a hold of her hand. “But it’s boring. It’s time to reflect how far you have come with attaining your goals, you should exercise self-discipline, yada yada yada. You already do that stuff.”

Mia pulls her hand back. “Told you.”

“Now, Claire.”

“What?” She resigns herself to the worst.

“You should have some financial gains this week.”

“Oh goodie.” Her savings are still looking a little sad.

“This week should also be about hard work and setting goals for yourself.”

She nods. “Yeah, like not getting so drunk.”

Mia snickers.

“And you should beware of taking advice from family members.”

She leans over and jabs at the paper. “That should be in there every week. I hope my mother reads that.” Not that she would. Her mother doesn’t believe in astrology, of course. Neither does Claire, really. How can all the people in the world be divided up into twelve types, ruled by twelve sets of advice? She’s terrible at math, but she knows that can’t possibly work statistically.

The waiter arrives with their food. Claire takes a tentative bite of her BLT, chews, and swallows. So far, so good. She’s almost ready to brave a coffee.

Mia spreads butter on her serving of toast.

“That’s really sad you know, Mia,” Claire tells her as she stares over at Mia’s barren plate.

“It’s for the best, believe me.”

Robbie heaps his fork with French toast and pours syrup straight on it. “You’re quiet today, Mee.”

Mia shrugs. “Feel sick.”

“At least you left before everything went pear-shaped. Why’d you leave so early anyway?”

“Drunk.”

“You’re such a lightweight,” he tells her fondly.

“Or just sane. At least I can kind of remember my night.”

Claire pauses with her BLT halfway to her mouth. Does that mean the kiss, too?

Robbie wipes his mouth with his napkin. “What are you guys doing for the rest of the day?”

Mia leans back against the booth and yawns. “Preferably IV fluids and bed rest. I should study. But somehow, I don’t think it’s going to happen until later. Much later.”

“Claire?” Robbie asks.

“Avoiding going home for as long as I can. Mum gets kind of chirpy on Sundays. She doesn’t seem to know it’s supposed to be a day of rest. And I already have to go to dinner at my cousin’s with her later.”

“Well can I suggest lying around and watching vapid teen films at my place? With junk food?”

“And Gatorade?” Claire asks.

“And Gatorade.” He nods. “Definitely.”

“The yellow one?”

“The yellow one.”

“Then I am in.”

Robbie turns. “Mee?”

She nods. “You had me at lying around.”

CHAPTER 23

Robbie’s flat is tiny. And freakishly spotless. Everything in the room—books, papers, clothes—is arranged neatly. The walls are mostly bare, with only a few unframed photographs pinned in random, light catching spots on the fresh, white paint.

Claire frowns at the immaculate bed. “Did you stay here last night?”

“Yeah, why?”

She shakes her head. “No reason.” Wow. He even made it this morning, as hungover as he claims to be. Cam makes his bed about four times a year.
Seasonally
, he likes to say. She sniffs the air. It even smells good in here.

She watches as he lays a selection of movies out on the bed.

“Which one?”

Claire takes a cursory look at the covers as she unzips her jacket. She’s seen most of them. Not that it matters. “Don’t care.” She lays her jacket neatly over the back of the chair. “Nothing that will tax my brain, though.”

“I don’t plan on taxing anyone’s brain today, not after last night. Exercise in futility. Mee?”

“Whatever, I don’t mind.” She stares at a photo on the wall. “I like this.”

“Good, then I’ll pick.” He plucks one from the pile and puts the rest neatly back on the shelves.

Claire smirks. “Do you alphabetise your DVDs? I’m getting the feeling you might be the type.”

“Shut up, you.” He freezes, DVD in hand. “Oh shit.”

“What?” Mia kicks off her shoes.

“I just remembered I might have done some inappropriate making out with a guy from my photo theory class at the first party.”

Inappropriate making out
. Claire snaps her head up. Mia’s exact words last night. She steals a glance at Mia. And Mia looks right back at her. They both burst out laughing.

She definitely remembers. And given that they are both laughing, it seems to be okay.

“What?” Robbie eyes them both.

Claire shakes her head. “Nothing.”

“Did you see it happen?”

“No.” She looks back over at Mia, who is still grinning as she perches on the edge of the bed.

“Seriously.” Robbie puts the DVD in the tray. “Don’t make me insecure. I am extremely fragile today.”

Claire lies against the pillows. “Really, it’s nothing. We both just remembered something. Nothing to do with you.”

“With who, then?”

Mia kicks her legs over onto the mattress. “Just a couple of people making drunken idiots of themselves last night.”

“Ooh, who?” He throws himself down on the bed between them. “Will it make me feel better about myself?”

“No, probably not.” Claire laughs. There’s no way she’s going to tell him. She glances at Mia. She gives Claire a small, sly smile and looks away. Clearly Mia isn’t going to either.

“Okay.” He reaches over Claire and picks up the remote control from his bed stand. “Then let’s watch this damn movie.”

* * *

Three movies later, Claire is forced to go home. Prompted by a reminder message from her mother that they have a family dinner tonight at her aunt’s, she reluctantly gets ready to depart Robbie’s cosy apartment.

Mia decides to leave too. “I’ve still got at least six hours of studying to do.” She sighs.

“Six hours?” Claire frowns as she yanks on her boots. “Six
hours
? You’re really going to do that much study now? Today?”

“Yep. Have to.”

“You poor thing.” Robbie checks his watch and climbs off the bed. “I better get ready too.”

“What for?” Claire asks.

“Got a thing on tonight.” He starts to grab clothes out of drawers.

“You’re going out again?”

“Yup.”

“Wow.” Claire shakes her head. These people have way more stamina than she does. If she had her way, she’d just get right back to bed when she gets home.

Mia and Claire leave Robbie to get ready and trudge slowly back to Union street in the gathering dark.

Mia zips up her jacket against the late afternoon chill. “I actually feel a bit better.”