Chapter 5

Simi

‘Jeeeeeem, you came back – for me,’ whimpered Simi.

Jemima was one of the only things, aside from Meagan, keeping her afloat and now all three of them were back together, everything was as it should be – apart from her heart which Oscar had exploded into a million pieces.

‘Of course I came back, angel,’ Jemima said as she held Simi.

And just as Simi’s tears were about to subside, she saw Jemima’s suitcase nestled in the corner of the room and started crying all over again. ‘You came all this way – with a suitcase!’

Jemima kissed Simi’s forehead and wiped away her tears. ‘I did. Now, look, Meagan said Oscar will be back soon. Shall we finish packing?’

‘You mean start,’ murmured Meagan looking back at her stack of collapsed boxes.

‘I caaaan’t,’ Simi keened as she let herself slip out of Jemima’s grip and onto the floor.

Jemima scrambled to keep hold of her as Meagan buried her head in her hands. ‘Babe, we’ve got to—’

‘I really, really thought he was the one, guys. He was kind, faithful and clever. Well he wore glasses…’ said Simi from her puddle of despair as she remembered their initial spark.

His dreamy cappuccino complexion – which Meagan unkindly referred to as decaf – his precious overbite and lean body, had all made her swoon. The girls always badgered her about sleeping with guys too soon but when Oscar, this black, bespectacled dreamboat, had invited her back to his place, who was she to say no? Simi loved how in sync they’d been… at first. When she was down after an audition, he’d miraculously appear with a red velvet cupcake – her favourite. When they were picking a TV show to binge-watch, they’d always choose the same one. With Oscar, it felt different, like they were going somewhere. So why had everything fallen apart?

‘What have I done to deserve this? I’m kind to animals and I buy a poppy every year!’ Simi sobbed.

‘Darling, you’re a dime and the minute you’re packed and out of his place, you’ll realise that,’ said Meagan thrusting a thumb in the direction of the door. ‘So shall we?’

‘She’s right,’ said Jemima trying to scoop Simi up from Oscar’s hardwood floor. ‘We should probably head down to the basement and—’

‘Pack? Ha!’ said Simi letting her head loll back until it came to a rest on Jemima’s shoulder.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ said Meagan as Simi’s entire body collapsed into their grasp.

‘Just leave me be, girls. I’ve had a good life,’ Simi said looking back at the sofa like a dying dog searching for a quiet place to howl its last goodbye.

‘Jemima,’ she said earnestly holding Jemima’s face, ‘to you I leave my collection of self-help books. Read them, especially The Girl Who Tried to Outrun her Shadow. It’s a novel but you know how sometimes they can be metaphors…’

‘Simi,’ barked Meagan. ‘Allow it, man! You have to pack or do you want Oscar to see you looking like this and smelling like French onion soup?!’