Somebody to Like

3 - Not Your Average Stalker

**Amelie**

The hard slap of my sneakers on the footpath was the perfect accompaniment to my foul mood.

It would probably be too much to say that I was pissed off but - actually yes, I was pissed off. Or maybe I was hurt? Either way it was one of those uncomfortably swirly emotions that did not feel good. Even Kevin for once skittering along obediently at my side had picked up on my dark mood.

It was stupid. I felt stupid, but it was one thing to know that the emotion gnawing at your gut was ridiculous and quite another to just shut that emotion down. I was not Zen. I did not meditate. I was just a silly girl with an overly active brain that just wouldn't take a break.

Try as I might I couldn't get that moment when Tim had found me struggling into a novelty brewery t-shirt in the back office out of my mind. How humiliating. I'd stunk of Stella Artois and my shirt had gone so transparent that I looked like I was trying to single-handedly bring back the glory days of the Page 3 pin up.

Even more humiliating had been the moment when he'd asked me what had happened and I'd had to explain that Gray had thought I was an overly familiar fan girl. Oh, and that when I'd realised what he was thinking I'd been so startled that I'd dropped his pint.

"I thought you knew them?" he asked his eyebrows squeezing together.

"Well I wouldn't exactly say that I know him." I busied myself with rolling up sleeves and tucking in hems in an attempt to make the t-shirt look just a little bit more presentable. I really shouldn't have worried, there was no dress code other than that we made sure we were clean. I just didn't want to have to be looking at Tim when he asked the question that I knew was coming.

"But he lives in one of the flats over the studio right? And you went to Lucy's wedding?" I hadn't needed to look at him to know that he was confused.

"Yes and yes," I sighed smoothing down my skirt in resignation. You couldn't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.

"Ooohhh." That one drawn out word with the flat vowel uttered in the Australian accent he'd never managed to shake conveyed a wealth of understanding. He gave my shoulder a reassuring pat before saying, "Don't worry about it. He probably didn't recognise you."

Clearly he hadn't recognised me. I'd been unwilling to make my humiliation complete by informing Tim that the wedding was a weekend long event; I'd sat in the same cluster of people as Gray at the welcome festivities and I'd laid on a sun lounge next to his one afternoon by the pool. Not to mention the fact that I'd been on the same table as his at brunch one morning. Oh, and the crowning indignity, I'd sat beside Gray at the wedding reception. As far as Gray Oliver was concerned I was memorably forgettable.

Stamping along with Kev at my side I really wished I could forget just how forgettable I was.

Slap, slap, slap. Skitter, skitter....yip, yip, yap, YAP. YAPYAPYAPYAP. YAP. Things had been going so grimly well until we passed the judgey vegan from yesterday. Her latest t-shirt read 'Animals Are Friends Not Food'. Kev's reaction to her made it pretty clear that he did not wish to be included in the ranks of her friends. She gave him a look of pained acceptance that he'd been corrupted by close contact with undesirables. The way her eyes narrowed when she glanced my way made it clear that her goodwill toward all animals did not extend to me.

Dragging a still furiously barking Kevin behind me I finally rounded the corner into the mews. Seriously, could I have had a worse twenty-four hours? Two encounters with a disapproving vegan, one ruined white shirt and a reminder that I was an invisible nobody. Of course just when you think you've hit rock bottom a sink hole opens up.