‘We really don’t need to get into all that,’ I say, waving my hand cheerily, because I can see Lauren opening her mouth to say something in response.

‘And anyway, we’ve both moved on with other people, so it’s fine,’ he says to Lauren.

‘Both?’ Lauren says, tilting her head to the side.

‘Me with Kendra, and Brooke with Jesse,’ Tristan says.

There’s a pause. I look at Lauren. Not just look at her, but look at her. Sister look. The thing about having almost nineteen years of knowing each other is that we communicate very quickly and easily, in ways I can’t with other people. I give her fleeting intense eye contact, and I know she knows what it means—I can see things shifting in her brain, I can see her understanding she needs to accept this statement about me being with Jesse. Not just accept it, but embrace it. She’s a very good liar, so this won’t be a problem.

‘I’m glad you guys are mature enough to be friends,’ she says.

‘Well, we’re not in high school anymore,’ Tristan says. ‘So you’ll join our team? Just for a round?’

‘Sure,’ Lauren says. ‘That would be fun.’ She turns and gives me an evil grin, then, when Tristan has moved away, she grabs my arm and Jesse’s arm. ‘The happy couple, huh! What’s the deal?’

‘It was just a spur of the moment kind of joke we did the other night that has got a little out of control now we’re apparently seeing Tristan everywhere,’ I say.

‘Oh this will be fun,’ Lauren says. ‘I love movies with fakedating plotlines.’ She does a little jump of excitement as she heads to the bar.

‘This is not a movie,’ I call after her.

Jesse and I are left standing awkwardly next to each other.

‘We don’t need to do it again,’ I say. I am torn between making sure he knows I’m still angry at him and making sure he knows that I have no emotions about him whatsoever.

‘You want to pretend to be broken up?’ he says. ‘That feels more complicated.’

‘Well no, we can just…’ I hesitate. ‘I guess we can pretend to be together but just not be really together. We don’t need to put on a whole performance like last time.’

‘Right. Okay.’ He looks uncertain.

‘Or we can tell Tristan the truth! I don’t care.’ I shrug my shoulders, even though I think I have developed a tremble in my right leg from the layers of stress I am internalising right now.

‘Is that what you want? To tell him the truth?’ Jesse says.

‘Not really. I don’t know,’ I say. I feel desperate and pathetic. My head is aching now.