‘Bros!’ giggled Claire, naming Charlotte’s favourite band. She was obsessed with Matt Goss. The door opened and Vivian, clad in tight jeans and pink crop top, let her inside. U2 boomed through the house. Down the hallway into the kitchen, Claire could already see a group of people mixing drinks and she dropped her sleeping bag in the hallway and walked towards them.

‘Claire!’ cried Charlotte. ‘Hi!’

Charlotte hugged her, and Claire could smell Eternity by Calvin Klein. As she leant in to her, she heard her whisper, ‘Guess who finally came?’

Claire looked up and saw a group of lads holding bottles of beer and laughing. She recognised them of course as they were known as the best-looking, most popular lads in their year. Taking Claire by the arm, Charlotte led her over to the group, which parted immediately as they approached.

‘Guys, this is one of our newest members, Claire Sharpe. Claire this is George, Matt, and Leo.’

A low chorus of hellos met Claire’s casual ‘hi’.

‘And this,’ exclaimed Charlotte dramatically swivelling Claire around to a guy who was getting a beer out of the fridge, ‘is Chris Carmichael.’

Chris nodded at Claire with a smile.

‘Right, guys, let’s leave these two to it – I have jelly shots in the living room,’ announced Charlotte and just like that, Claire and Chris were alone.

*

Several hours later, Claire and the girls were in their sleeping bags on the living room floor, the others around her like caterpillars except for Charlotte, who had brought down her duvet from her bedroom and was on the sofa, the height making her look like she was holding court.

‘I think he really likes you, Claire,’ said Anne.

‘Come on, Claire – share the gossip – what happened?’ prodded Vivian.

‘He’s nice,’ said Claire noncommittally before trying to change the subject. The girls screamed in protest and Claire knew she wasn’t going to get away with being coy.

‘He asked me out,’ admitted Claire, unable to hide her smile, and the girls whooped and hollered as if she’d won the Nobel Peace Prize.

‘And what did you say?’ prompted Vivian.

‘I said, I’d think about it,’ replied Claire. More claps and whistles.

‘I like your style, Claire,’ replied Vivian. ‘There aren’t many girls who would keep a guy like Chris Carmichael hanging!’

The topic moved on and Claire snuggled down into her sleeping bag, listening to the girls recall the highlights of the evening. She hadn’t had a chance to bring up Paul and decided she would do it another time. But then she heard one of the girls mention something that made her sit up.

‘Got the shit kicked out of him. Poor guy, but he really doesn’t help himself.’

‘Who did?’ asked Claire, hoping she’d misheard.