BooksBarbecue
Back When We Were Friends
Chapters (52)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. About the Author
  5. 31
  6. 14
  7. 31
  8. 14
  9. 31
  10. 14
  11. 31
  12. 14
  13. 31
  14. 15
  15. 31
  16. 16
  17. 32
  18. 16
  19. 32
  20. 17
  21. 32
  22. 17
  23. 32
  24. 17
  25. 32
  26. 17
  27. 32
  28. 18
  29. 32
  30. 18
  31. 32
  32. 18
  33. 32
  34. 18
  35. 32
  36. 18
  37. 32
  38. 18
  39. 32
  40. 18
  41. 32
  42. 18
  43. 32
  44. 18
  45. 32
  46. 32
  47. 33
  48. 33
  49. 33
  50. Acknowledgments
  51. Discussion Questions
  52. Booklist

“Hello?” I called quietly, stepping into the flat, my imaginary camera still trained on my face. “Ben? I’m home.”

A groan drifted from the living room.

“Ben?”

I found him passed out on the sofa, still in his teaching clothes, tie loosened, odd socks protruding from under his trousers. “Hey, Fern,” he mumbled into the leather. “Very tired. Not drunk, I promise. Very tired. Few drinks after work but not drunk.” He stank of sweet stale beer. “Good day?” he asked with his eyes still closed.

“Yeah. Amazing day.” I tried to keep hold of the perky free spirit from earlier. I wanted him to see me like that—to see the shine of my good day radiating off me. “Jessica was great. And we all went a bit berserk at Heather’s. We were dancing around her living room. You should’ve seen it.”

A light snore was my reply.

My fantasy popped. Ben’s snore the prick in my bubble. The imaginary record button switched off on my imaginary camera. The only person who could see me right now was me. I stood in the conflicting feeling of love and disappointment, then got a blanket out of the cupboard and tucked it around his body.

“I love you,” I told him, stroking back a piece of his hair, trying to turn the record button back on. Wanting him to watch this scene of me being so caring and thoughtful and feminine, putting that blanket around him.

“Yeah you too.” He turned away from my touch, and dozed off again into a scatter cushion.

16

july 2002

My body lay sprawled out in the sun, my face carefully positioned under the hotel umbrella. Sweat collected generously in my belly button, and my skin tightened as it baked under the heat.

“How long until we turn over?” I twisted my head to Jessica, who lay on the lounger next to me, reading a Cosmo article called “Bad girl sex—moves to show him your naughty side.” She picked up her wristwatch from the ground.

“Five more minutes, then we rotate.”

“It’s so damn hot.”

“Our tans are going to be brilliant. We will be literal golden goddesses. Julio and Julio won’t be able to contain themselves.”