𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐒 two years ago, my life changed forever. All it took was one night to alter the rest of my life. I wasn't sure about a lot of things however, there are two things that I was absolutely certain on: what I wanted to wear and who...
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Monday's my favourite day of the week, mainly because everyone else hates it. But it's also a reset. When does your diet start? Monday. When are you going to do the ironing (not me because I have someone for that)? Monday.
I'm not even going to talk about Saturday night. I'm embarrassed, ashamed wondering how I ended up in George's—no doubt—STD-infected bed.
We didn't have sex so that's good. I would've known if we did because I wouldn't have been able to walk when I woke up. However, I couldn't walk at Annabel's which was just a bit humbling. I swear me and Mia didn't even drink a lot before coming out. Astrid wasn't able to make it so we also drank for her but still, that's not a lot (it is).
"Have you spoken to Albie?" Astrid gets into my bed beside me. She slept over last night because her parents were yapping her ear off with marriages.
I bring my covers up to my chin, turn to face her and pout. "No."
God, I am beyond pissed at Albie. I don't remember a whole lot from Saturday night but I do remember the bits with George which means Alb left me on my own. Fuck him, anything could've happened to me.
And do you know what I also hate? George playing the fucking hero anytime I'm involved. Doesn't matter if I'm drunk and stranded or got my heel stuck in the pavement. He'll be right by my side. I can't blame him a whole lot, though. It's been like that since we were kids. He's saved me so many times. But this time, it's just making it harder to hate him.
"Maybe you should tell him you slept with George. Might make him angry and rile him up," Astrid giggles, sighing and rolling onto her back. She looks a bit upset.
"Shocking enough, I'm not going to take your advice but I am going to ask you what's wrong?"
"My parents want me to marry soon," she tilts her head on the pillow to look at me. "But I don't want to marry I want to do something else."
"Like what? No offence, but you don't really have any hobbies that don't include spending money or watching Charlie Canning play football." I poke her cheeks as she holds back a smile because she knows it's true. She likes Charlie. I mean, who wouldn't? He's a fucking gangster—sorry, businessman—footballer.
Mia then appears at my door, "threesome?" She winks, coming over to my other side and pushing me into the middle of my bed.
"No, three's a crowd," I kick her legs under the cover but she doesn't budge.
"It's a shame Astrid missed out on your big debut?" Mia sighs almost wistfully.
"What are you talking about?" I roll my eyes. And people call me dramatic, they haven't met Mia.
"'This Alexandre Vauthier. Don't touch what you can't afford, fucking bitch.'" Astrid starts belly laughing so does Mia, and I sink further into my covers because the memories are flooding back now.
