At Their Very Best

Part 8

In the blurred days between Christmas Day and New Year's Eve, Matty drives you up to Manchester. Charli and George were in town visiting their families for the holidays, and she sent you a text the day before begging for you to meet up with her.

"Save me. G's grandmother keeps trying to feed me gross things and telling me it's a "delicacy"!"

You planned to meet uptown to spend your time thrift shopping and decompressing from the holidays. Once you see Charli across the lost, you launch out of the car, your new woolen scarf billowing behind you, as Matty barely manages to throw the vehicle into Park in time. She smiles brightly, runs, and meets you halfway in a tight hug, "Merry Christmas!"

Charli blows George a kiss, and you wave your fingers goodbye to Matty as you stroll away, arm in arm together. You hadn't seen each other since the Madison Square Garden shows, but you weren't as close then as you are now. You've both FaceTimed each other during the US leg and chatted constantly over text. You feel like Charli might actually be one of your best friends.

As you try things on in the first store, you converse about all the food you indulged in and list the presents you received. Charli doesn't hide her surprise well when you tell her everything Matty's family bought you. You don't tell her about dancing in the Christmas tree light or what almost happened in your bedroom in his mothers house.

Hanging up a pair of trousers you didn't like, you then try on another little satin dress. The strapless bodice is firm to your chest, and the hemline barely reaches the middle of your thighs. Leave the changing room to get approval Charli looks you up and down as you spin. Her jaw goes slack before nodding in approval. You move back into the room to get changed again.

As you move from store to store, you help Charli film bits of your day for her socials. You found it fun when there were no restrictions, and it wasn't your account that you had to worry about. You can't remember the last time you got to have a day like this, shopping all morning and walking around the city with a friend. You also can't remember when you had so much disposable income too. For an independent label Dirty Hit certainly paid you more than you thought you were worth (not that you'd ever tell them that.)

Charli spent most of the day convincing you to reactivate your social accounts, telling you that you should remain private. She wants to tag you in posts and brag about her hot friend. She might be slowly persuading you. Maybe.

As you wait to cross at the next intersection, you see a tall man and his shorter curly-haired best friend walking toward you.

"You come here often?" Matty greets. He grabs the bags from your hands, carrying them for you, and takes your free hand in his.

The boys walk with you and plan to meet at the pub this afternoon for early dinner until you get to the next thrift store. Matty kisses you goodbye before going to his car with George to drop off your bags. Charli loops her arm with yours again as you look around the next store and attempts to get you to kiss and tell.

"So, that little kiss and the hand holding still mean "nothing"?" Her eyebrow is ticked at you, calling your bluff.

"It's..." you think of how to explain. "Not nothing?"

Charli rolls her eyes, "oh my god, is this high school?"

"Well, we aren't boyfriend/girlfriend if that's what you're asking," you huff.

"Who cares about that?" Charli continues flicking garments across the rack. "Have you fucked yet?"

Mortified, you walk away and she laughs loudly.

Arriving at the pub earlier than planned, you play a round of darts while sharing a pitcher of beer. Charli's horrified by your precision, citing that she wouldn't want to be your enemy when you earn your third bullseye. Pouring yourself another drink from the jug, Charli tells you about the drama with her label. They haven't offered her another deal for more albums, and she's got a few offers on the table that she's tossing between.