Brew Books

Chapter 41

'Jane! Which one?' Will is leaning against my door frame, holding two black jackets.

I look up from War and Peace (I'm still not very far through it), and point to the one on the left.

'Wait, what are you doing? Why are you still in bed?'

'I'm not going out,' I tell Will.

Will groans, throws both jackets across the hall into his bedroom, and collapses beside me into bed. 'Girl, what is happening with you? This whole antisocial Russian literature phase is giving me bad vibes.'

I shrug. 'I just don't feel like going down to the bar tonight and I don't want to go out. I have to work tomorrow, anyway.'

'But we're all going out,' Will says. 'You don't want to miss this. And Brixton is great!'

'Will, I don't want to go. Look, I've got Tolstoy, I've got my cup of tea, I'm not moving.'

'Okay, listen,' Will says, and he kicks the door closed with one outstretched foot, before grabbing War and Peace, ignoring my protests, and tossing it across the room. The hefty tome makes a thud as it lands on the floor. 'I haven't told anyone this, but I have word through my friend Simon G. that my ex-boyfriend is going to be at Electric Brixton tonight and I have visions of me striding in there with you and the girls on my arms and slaying on the dance floor. I haven't seen him for six months and I kinda wanna debut my revenge body and I need you to be one of my hot girl friends.'

'Sometimes no matter how good you look, seeing your ex never makes you feel better,' I tell Will.

'Oh trust me, honey, I'm gonna feel so good flaunting it in front of him.'

I roll my eyes. 'Okay. If this is what you want, I will allow you to exploit my femininity for your gay agenda.'

Will laughs and pulls me into a hug. 'There we go! Now put on that sexy little red dress and come slay with me on the d-floor.'

'Fiiine!' I say, and I pull myself out of bed. 'How do you know about that red dress?'

'Stalked your Instagram,' Will says. 'Your friends are all super hot but they look like bitches.'

'They are,' I say.

Will blows me a kiss, opens my bedroom door, and leaves me to get changed.

As Will instructed, I find my red dress. By the time I'm ready there's no one else upstairs, so I head down to the bar, which is packed.

Harper is behind the bar, looking neat in a black t-shirt, with his hair in a bun. I don't want to ask him to get me a drink, so instead I sit at a table with Kitty, Will, and Ed. Sylvie spots us and brings me a vodka soda without asking, which I'm grateful for.

'You look hot tonight, Jane,' Sylvie says. 'Red suits you.'

Will winks at me over his beer, and I grin.

As much as I didn't want to be here tonight, I find that the music and the atmosphere of the bar immediately relaxes me, and I drink my vodka soda quicker than I mean to.

The drink gives me confidence, and I decide that rather than avoiding Harper, I should pretend that nothing's wrong and approach him like I would have a few weeks ago. I ask if anyone wants a drink and then head up to the bar.

Harper would have usually noticed me waiting and already started making drinks for me, but either he doesn't notice me or he's ignoring me, so I have to wait in line. When I finally get to the front he looks up.

'Hi,' he says flatly.

'Hey,' I say, putting on a smile. 'Will and I both need drinks. Can I get a vodka soda for me and a beer for Will?'

'Sure,' Harper says, still with no smile. He turns to make the drinks.

My heart is crushed.

Standing here, right in front of Harper, and he still refuses to treat me as anything other than a regular customer. After the gig, and kissing, and sleeping together, I have no idea why now he is just pretending that nothing happened. It destroys me. But I can't ask him about it now, and I don't want to make a scene, so when Harper hands the drinks over, I turn and leave without a word of thanks.

At midnight, we lock up the bar and clean up as much as we can, then Ed pours a round of gins, so that the seven of us can have one drink together before we leave. I'm still feeling frustrated and emotional about Harper refusing to talk to me, so I hold onto my phone and mindlessly watch Instagram stories, not really focusing on the conversation.

My school friend Rachel has posted a series of Instagram stories today from London. There's a picture of her brunch in Clapham, and then a snap of the London Eye at sunset. At this stage, I'm not even surprised. Of course Rachel is in London and hasn't even bothered to message me. Why would she want to hang out with me?

I consider sending her a passive-aggressive message, and I even type out something, feeling even more frustrated as I write, but then Harper's raised voice distracts me.

'Kitty, I'm sick of you complaining about masculinity all the time,' Harper snaps. I look up, surprised to hear his raised voice. He's staring at Kitty, and gripping his glass tightly. As I look up he glances at me, and glares. 'Girls are equally as capable of being toxic.'

My stomach lurches, and I stare at Harper, but his stool grates back as he stands up.

'What did I miss?' I hiss at Will.

'Something, something, hashtag Me Too, Kitty cries toxic masculinity, here we are,' Will murmurs. 'I could swear we've had this exact conversation before.'

'I love arguments over semantics,' Ed murmurs from my other side. The three of us watch Harper storming towards the bar. He pours himself a beer, looking pissed off the whole time.

'Harper, you can't just walk away from the conversation,' Kitty says. 'If you're not willing to listen to what we have to say, then don't bring it up.'

'Yeah, didn't you learn anything from last week's women's march?' Sylvie calls out.

'I don't want you two to gang up on me!' Harper says, louder now, as he's looking at Kitty and Sylvie. 'Now everything is toxic masculinity and you two seem to know everything about everything, and I'm always in the wrong,' he walks back towards our table, beer in hand. 'Are we getting a taxi, or what?'

'Give us a minute,' Ed says.

'There's so much to unpack here,' says Sylvie delicately. 'Can we talk about this, Harper?'

'Sit down, Harper,' Kitty says.

I stay silent, watching Harper. I can see he's frustrated by something, and I can't help but think that I'm somehow the cause of it. Harper and I kissed, and then suddenly he refuses to talk to me, or even look at me, as if I've done something wrong.

'But haven't you ever noticed that there's no such thing as toxic femininity?' Harper says again, as if he's proving a solid point.

'Harper, of course there's such a thing as toxic femininity!' Sylvie snaps. 'You just haven't noticed it because it doesn't affect you!'

Harper stares at her. 'Alright then, let me in on the secret. What's toxic femininity?'

• Author's Note •

Thanks for reading and for all of your support on this novel. It really means a lot!

Also these young, smart booksellers seriously have a lot of thoughts about the world. One of my friendship group's favourite things to do is debate worldly topics, and I think it's something that a lot of woke young people do so it's definitely something that the Brew Crew would do, too.

If you have any strong opinions on their arguments, feel free to join in the conversation in the comments!

What's a topic that you're super passionate about?

elle xx