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Authors: Dorothy Koomson
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feather-cut black hair, me with my slender frame, pale skin and masses of blond hair. I was wearing shiny black trousers, a denim bustier top and my denim stilettos while Kam wore her black velvet jacket, dark blue jeans and white top. I’d forced her to complete the look with a pair of my black suede stilettos.
This club was a new one but seemed to be full of the same old disgusting men. I had to drink to compensate for the lack of talent, while Kam dispatched every man who approached her with her acid tongue and acrid expressions. One man, probably the sexiest-looking one in the club, did get close enough to her to move in for a kiss, but at the last second she turned her back on him and walked away. We left after that.
I was the drunker of the two of us, so in the taxi back to our flat in north London I was allowed to lay my head on her thigh and fall asleep while she stayed awake to get us home.
“I’m going to do it with Nate,” Kam said.
“I thought you’d already shagged him,” I replied, not opening my eyes.
“I have,” she said. “No, I mean, I’m going to go out with him. Date him. Properly.”
“Is that why you didn’t snog that man?” I asked, my interest piqued, but not enough to make me open my eyes.
“Yes,” she mumbled. “I…I think I might like him.”
My eyes flew open and I sat bolt upright but she turned away to stare out the window before I could see into her eyes. She’d met Nate at a party a few months earlier and for some reason had given him her real phone number. Since day one she’d been giving him the runaround. She’d screen his calls, only phoning back days later. If she did answer the phone she’d be very nonchalant and vague about when they’d next meet up. Most shockingly, even for her, she shagged him after their first official date—which was afternoon coffee in north London—because she’d been convinced it would get rid of him. Not Nate. He hung in there. He’d dismantled her defenses, I didn’t realize how successfully until that moment.
“What?” I said.
“I think I might like him,” she repeated, studiously staring out of the window.
Bloody hell! Those six words were her equivalent to “I’m falling in love with him.” When she’d hardened her heart, Kamryn had chucked out all ambiguity about her feelings toward men. She knew which men she wanted to sleep with, which ones were just friends, which ones she would date but would never bed. For her to admit she wasn’t sure about a man meant he was special.
“Really?” I said to her.
She nodded but wouldn’t look at me.
“Wake me up when we get home,” she said. She was embarrassed and vulnerable, she’d exposed a part of herself that hadn’t been seen in years: she was unsure about a man. Kam closed her eyes, rested her head against the window and pretty soon she was asleep.
I watched her sleep as the cab made its way through the dark London streets. I was still reeling.
Kam is in love. Wow!
I suddenly felt sick.
What if he’s a bastard? What if he loses interest once he’s got her undivided attention? It’s happened before, what if it happens again? Kam will never recover.
I had to do something. I was extremely drunk, hideously tired and a little shaken up—obviously the perfect time to make a decision to protect Kam’s heart. And that decision was to tell the taxi driver in hushed tones to head for another address…
After three knocks and three rings of the bell, the door of the house in Tuffnell Park with eight stone steps leading up to it was answered. I’d dropped Kam off here a few times so I knew it was the right house. I asked the taxi driver to wait a minute while I went to get something.
“Adele?” Nate said as he opened the door. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and even though it was three a.m. he didn’t look as if he’d been asleep. Nate was good-looking. Not as sexy as the man Kam had been dancing with in the club, but he had
This club was a new one but seemed to be full of the same old disgusting men. I had to drink to compensate for the lack of talent, while Kam dispatched every man who approached her with her acid tongue and acrid expressions. One man, probably the sexiest-looking one in the club, did get close enough to her to move in for a kiss, but at the last second she turned her back on him and walked away. We left after that.
I was the drunker of the two of us, so in the taxi back to our flat in north London I was allowed to lay my head on her thigh and fall asleep while she stayed awake to get us home.
“I’m going to do it with Nate,” Kam said.
“I thought you’d already shagged him,” I replied, not opening my eyes.
“I have,” she said. “No, I mean, I’m going to go out with him. Date him. Properly.”
“Is that why you didn’t snog that man?” I asked, my interest piqued, but not enough to make me open my eyes.
“Yes,” she mumbled. “I…I think I might like him.”
My eyes flew open and I sat bolt upright but she turned away to stare out the window before I could see into her eyes. She’d met Nate at a party a few months earlier and for some reason had given him her real phone number. Since day one she’d been giving him the runaround. She’d screen his calls, only phoning back days later. If she did answer the phone she’d be very nonchalant and vague about when they’d next meet up. Most shockingly, even for her, she shagged him after their first official date—which was afternoon coffee in north London—because she’d been convinced it would get rid of him. Not Nate. He hung in there. He’d dismantled her defenses, I didn’t realize how successfully until that moment.
“What?” I said.
“I think I might like him,” she repeated, studiously staring out of the window.
Bloody hell! Those six words were her equivalent to “I’m falling in love with him.” When she’d hardened her heart, Kamryn had chucked out all ambiguity about her feelings toward men. She knew which men she wanted to sleep with, which ones were just friends, which ones she would date but would never bed. For her to admit she wasn’t sure about a man meant he was special.
“Really?” I said to her.
She nodded but wouldn’t look at me.
“Wake me up when we get home,” she said. She was embarrassed and vulnerable, she’d exposed a part of herself that hadn’t been seen in years: she was unsure about a man. Kam closed her eyes, rested her head against the window and pretty soon she was asleep.
I watched her sleep as the cab made its way through the dark London streets. I was still reeling.
Kam is in love. Wow!
I suddenly felt sick.
What if he’s a bastard? What if he loses interest once he’s got her undivided attention? It’s happened before, what if it happens again? Kam will never recover.
I had to do something. I was extremely drunk, hideously tired and a little shaken up—obviously the perfect time to make a decision to protect Kam’s heart. And that decision was to tell the taxi driver in hushed tones to head for another address…
After three knocks and three rings of the bell, the door of the house in Tuffnell Park with eight stone steps leading up to it was answered. I’d dropped Kam off here a few times so I knew it was the right house. I asked the taxi driver to wait a minute while I went to get something.
“Adele?” Nate said as he opened the door. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and even though it was three a.m. he didn’t look as if he’d been asleep. Nate was good-looking. Not as sexy as the man Kam had been dancing with in the club, but he had
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