Accidental Housemate

09: clubbing

My enthusiasm to drink the night away pushed my conscious worry of getting recognised by men to the back of my head, something I regretted later.

I stood by Dave’s side after he introduced me to his circle. The looks I exchanged with one of his friends told me he felt he’d seen me somewhere, but he didn’t voice it, and I knew why. Despite wide jeans, a red blouse, and a black coat covering my skin completely, I felt exposed to his eyes, making me feel the need to hug my sides.

“Hey, I’m Perrie,” I introduced myself with the politest smile I could put on. “Dave’s housemate.” I scooted closer to Dave, seeking comfort in familiarity. He didn’t disappoint me, probably thinking I had social anxiety as he rubbed my back lightly.

“Nice to meet you, Perrie. I’m Edward,” the one with blond hair and pale skin said. He was the one who looked at me with familiarity.

“I’m Serena,” the only girl in the group said with a sweet smile. She looked excited about having a feminine addition to the group.

The last one was Kyle, who gave me a knowing look and a smile. “Hey, Perrie.”

Dave pulled out a stool for me at the table and then sat down beside me. After a little introduction about myself, the friend group went back to chatting among themselves.

I naturally felt like an outsider despite the questions thrown at me every now and then. What did I expect from pushing myself on people I didn’t know? Going out with my friends back in the day for such an outing was different from going out with people who weren’t my friends. Still, I wasn’t going to whine. That was Dave’s relaxation time, but he was nice enough to include me.

We ordered rum cocktails. Well, not me; I was passively included. Even when Edward asked me what I wanted and said it was all on him, I wasn’t going to voice my preference. I said I was fine with anything the group would like.

I had nothing else to do other than focus on my drink when they went to the dancefloor. Halfway through the glass, my head started swirling. I tried to lean off the counter, but I lost my balance and almost fell off the stool. Apparently, the drink had more alcohol than I thought.

“Woah there, Perrie.” Dave caught me in his solid arm. He pushed his seat closer to mine, so they almost stuck together. Tipsy and tired, I wasn’t as uncomfortable as usual with the closeness. “Lean on me?” he suggested.

My response was wordless and exactly what he said. I was ruining the guy’s night out and earning his friends’ attention, but I couldn’t help it. I leant on his shoulder and closed my eyes, hoping to shut out their interest. Go back to conversing, I thought. Dave felt warm and welcoming, giving me a sense of protection that I missed so much.

Closing my eyes helped. My attention then shifted to my bubble, thinking how the night would go with me already out of it. Would I get so drunk I blurted out to Dave things he wasn’t supposed to know? How reckless of me. I should’ve taken that into account before I started drinking, but it was too late to complain.

I imagined scenarios of him finally knowing about my past. Would his pale face turn red and scrunch up in disgust before he kicked me out of his place, or would he brush it off like it was nothing? In my head, I picked the latter. After all, he sounded like a customer of my old workplace. He wouldn’t have felt familiar with me if he wasn’t.

However, what if he was the biggest hypocrite Earth had known, and he turned against me and shamed me, as many people had done before? My bank account had decent, steady growth, but not enough for me to rent a place for more than a few weeks in London. Would Dave be okay with letting me live on the streets? What would happen to my open robbery case without his help?