𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐮𝐲 ➺ 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝑀𝒶𝓎 & 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

(3) 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't take the piss out of me, Emma, it was fucking embarrassing." I stirred the pot of tomato sauce on the stove, my hair tied back in a ponytail.

"But you spewed in front of three boys! You vomited as in fully choked!" Emma wheezed, leaning back on the sofa in her fit of giggles.

"How would you like it if you threw up in front of some really attractive guys? They probably think I'm so disgusting now. And I'm supposed to be managing them!" I rambled, some of the sauce splattering at me from the stove.

"You need to stir it—"

"I know I need to stir it, thank you Emma!!" I snapped, taking a deep breath and stirring it angrily.

"Don't get pissy with me, I'm just joking." Emma said softly, a slight tinge of guilt in her voice. She shut up momentarily whilst she got out two bowls and two forks.

"I'm sorry for shouting, I'm just really embarrassed, and I can't stop thinking about it."

"You mean, you can't stop thinking about them?" Emma grinned obnoxiously.

I spooned the sauce into a bowl of strained pasta, mixing it up. "I don't know what you're talking about." I said quietly, putting the pans in the sink.

"Maria, they're so attractive. And if they really were the guys from the other night, then you're so lucky that you are getting to spend so much time with them." She giggled, helping herself to the pasta I made. "Especially that blonde one, what was his name?"

Here we go...

"Roger." I said, smirking at Emma and her expression.

"Yes, Roger. You get to spend time with them all. You're one lucky bitch."

I emptied the rest of the pan into my bowl and walked over to the sofa. "It's just work experience, Emma, it's not anything much." I sat down, Emma joining me next to me. "Besides, I don't like blondes."

"No, you like the one with the big hair." Emma quickly retorted, shoving a forkful of pasta into her mouth. What a bitch.

As I opened my mouth to speak, the phone rang from the hallway. I groaned at Emma's cockiness, putting the bowl down on the coffee table and stepping over her legs, making my way through what was supposed to be cleaned up by Emma. Her and her stupid shoes.

I picked up the phone, placing it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Maria, darling, it's mum."

I gave Emma one of those looks, my eyes narrowing – whether it was aimed at her or my mother, it's up to interpretation. She just gave me a sour smile and went back to eating.

"Hi mum, how are things?" I sighed into the phone, trying my best to act positive.

"They're okay, your dad and I went to The Wellington the other night with Uncle Dave and Auntie Sue."

"The Wellington, huh...?" I asked, trying to be as calm as possible. "Where did the money come from for that type of meal?" I laughed, clinging onto the phone. Just hang up, Maria. Just hang up.

"Oh, we had some left over from the other week." My mum said so casually, her voice crackling on the other end.

"That's good..." I said quietly. "We haven't got a lot over here; we keep having pasta." I sighed, trying to drop a hint that I needed money.

"Oh darling, just get a job. There are loads of jobs in London. That's why you moved down there, remember?" It was as if she was completely oblivious to student life.