“I’m sorry,” I said, almost robotically. “I’ve...er... I got really bad food poisoning on the last day of holiday and the flight home has been a vomity chaos.”

“What? That’s awful. Are you OK?”

“Hmm, yeah. Just going to have to lay low for a few days.” I turned over on my side. “How are you?”

“Well, I’ve been freaking out to be honest. Scared you’ll be mad at me. Did you get my texts?” She paused. “About Liam?”

“Oh those? Yeah, I think so.”

“And...you’re OK? We’re OK?”

One tear slid down my face and landed in my hair. “What? Of course.”

Another long pause, as Jessica tried to decide if I was being genuine or not. I think we both knew I wasn’t—that what she’d done was a problem. But I had too much pride to go there, and she obviously had none by going there. Yet I also knew I had no claim on him, and she knew it. She could claim innocence. Which, after a big breath, she did. “Oh, I’m so relieved. I knew you’d be OK with it, but still, I wanted to check. Honestly, Fern, it just happened. We were all just having some drinks before the Easter weekend, and we got talking. I’ve never really met him before, and it’s just...well...honestly, Fern, I think it’s love. I know that sounds mad, but we clicked instantly. I went back to his, and because his parents are away, I’ve all but moved in...”

My throat sewed itself shut as the details poured out. To make it worse, I knew what the inside of Liam’s house looked like. I knew they had green wallpaper with green sofas. I could imagine Jessica behaving the exact opposite to how I behaved there—confident, alluring, knowing, unafraid. I scratched my leg again, and felt a nick, a warm streak of blood.

“...but I just couldn’t relax until I knew things were OK with me and you. I mean, you did kiss that one time. Your friendship means the world to me, Fern. I would never have gone there if I thought you had feelings for him. You know that for sure, don’t you?”

Did I?

No.

“Of course,” I said, trying to unhollow my voice. “Jessica, I’m happy for you, I really am, but, I think I’m going to throw up again. I have to go. I’ll let you know when I feel better. My parents think it may be a good week.”

“Yes, of course. Go vom. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Hmm, yes, bye.”