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They’re both thin, and a little geeky looking. The taller of the two has red curly hair, and a narrow face, though his ruby red lips are enviable. His friend is just as small, they barely have a muscle between them, or if they do, they aren’t on display. They look like the type of guys who prefer video games to sports.
The smaller of the two actually has a nice face, and when he smiles, a couple of incredibly cute dimples appear. His black hair is spiked up with far too much gel, making it look a little greasy, and I can’t help but think if he left off the product and just raked his hands through it, he’d probably look a whole lot better.
Ginger is staring at Bessy—more specifically her cleavage—like he’s never seen a girl as hot as her in real life. His friend at least has the nerve to look at Gem’s face, although I do catch his gaze raking over all of us.
Kym slides into the remaining seat beside Bessy, and I remain standing. This is probably meant to be a four person booth, but you can squeeze in three each side if you’re small enough and not afraid to get a little up close and personal with the person next to you. But the only remaining seat is next to Ginger, and even then I’d need them to shuffle over a little, otherwise just one of my ass cheeks will fit in the booth.
I try not to think about the fact I’m bigger than my friends, but I can’t stop the all consuming dark thoughts when they rear their ugly heads. All I can think about is what Ginger must be thinking about now. He’s obviously going to be worried about me crushing him, and the fact he’s going to have to shuffle so far over to make enough room for my fat ass that he’ll practically by sitting on his friend’s knee. He’s no doubt wishing he had one of my hot friends next to him, so he can admire them while they’re next to him.
Just as I feel my thoughts beginning to overwhelm me, Ginger talks to me, pulling me back from the edge of the abyss. “You can sit down here, if you’d like. There’s plenty of room. You don’t have to stand.”
He shuffles over slightly, as does his friend, before he pats the empty seat beside him. I look him over to see any signs he doesn’t mean it. Maybe he’s doing it to seem like a nice guy in front of my friends? Or maybe he doesn’t realise how big my ass really is? Either way, I can’t stand here all fucking night, my feet are already killing me, so I lower myself right onto the edge of the seat. I’m shocked to find that even with the entirety of my ass on the seat, and without having to practically sit on Ginger's lap, there’s enough room for me.
For the first time in a while, I start to think maybe Lee is right. Maybe I do view myself very differently than how I actually look. He continually says that I think I’m bigger than I really am, and that the person I see when I look in the mirror really doesn’t exist. I see myself as this big, plus sized girl, but Lee says, in reality, I’m not as large as I think. Yes, I’m curvy, and I have places with a bit more fat than I should have, but I’m proportionate.
I have to admit, every time he’s brought this up in the past, I’ve ignored him. It’s hard to believe that what I see in the mirror isn’t reality, but occasionally, I have moments like this, where there’s an incident that I just can’t explain.
Like right now, my brain told me there was no way in hell my fat ass would fit in the seat next to Ginger, even if he moved right the way over onto his friend's knee. But in reality, he barely shuffled over, and when I sat down, not only did my ass fit comfortably, it wasn’t even hanging over the side of the booth like I expected it to be. I think this is something I’m going to have to explore further. There must be a reason why I view my body in a way that’s not consistent with reality. Who knows, now I know what’s going on, this might be the first step in me finding out how to fix it.
Although Lee has given me a confidence I can’t ever thank him for, I know there’s a lot more ground to cover. It’s more than just feeling confident in how I look, it’s about being able to look in the mirror and see myself clearly, and be happy with what I see.
Let’s just hope I can still remember this breakthrough in the morning when all the alcohol wears off. As I’m working on my breakthrough, Ginger leans forward, and directs his attention towards Bessy. “Do you come here often?” he asks, his voice coming out far squeakier than I think he intended. I can’t help but groan.
“I’m going to go and get a drink, does anyone want anything?” I ask, as I stand up.
Kym shakes her head and mutters something about not being able to take a drink onto the dancefloor. Gem asks for a shot, as does Bessy. The guy sitting next to Ginger turns to me with a big smile on his face. “Can I get a pint please?” he asks, sounding hopeful and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Erm no. I don’t buy drinks for people I don’t know. Besides with the way you’ve been staring at our tits, you’re lucky we’re not making you two buy the round.”
They both have the audacity to at least look sheepish, Ginger’s face turning an almost tomato shade of red as Bessy laughs at the way they avert their eyes quickly. I turn on my heel, and my head starts to swim, dizziness overcoming me. I grab hold of the edge of the table as I wobble, trying to catch my footing. I knew I’d had a bit to drink, but not enough to be falling down drunk.
I blink a few times, desperately trying to get the spots in my vision to disappear, and Gemima grabs hold of my arm, a rare look of concern etched across her face. Sometimes I forget that she’s actually a bloody good nurse, and to be one, you have to care about people. She may come off as heartless, but there must be a kind person deep inside, otherwise you couldn’t do the type of job that we do.
“Hey… are you okay?” Gem asks, as my vision starts to improve and the dizziness begins to subside.
I blink a few times to clear my head, taking in a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. I must have stood up a bit too quickly. Combine the postural shift with the alcohol and I’m just feeling a bit faint. It’s passing now,” I reply, trying to think of myself as a patient. We both know the type of reply I’d give one of my patients would be to stop drinking, drink more water, and go home safely. The problem is, nurses really do make the worst patients, as they think they already know it all.
I get served at the bar, and while the girl behind the counter is getting my drinks ready, I can’t resist looking at my phone. I know I put it away in the last pub and didn’t reply, but I felt it vibrate. I know he’s replied.
LEE
Sorry. I know that’s not the right answer. I do want you to have a nice night. I will talk to you tomorrow. Night, Beautiful xx
Fuck him. Too right it’s not the correct fucking answer. He knows how he feels, he’s just being a coward. I know alcohol is playing a major part in adding to my anger, but I can’t help it. It feels as though my blood is boiling, and I’m so fucking angry at him. Why can’t he just admit how he really feels?
The girl hands me my drinks and I take them back to the table. The four of us do our shots before Kym stands up and heads onto the dancefloor. She grabs hold of Gem’s arm and drags her along too. She reaches out for mine, but I shake my head. I’m not in the mood to dance at the moment. My skin feels itchy, like I’m only a few seconds away from losing my shit.
Bessy is leaning over and talking to Ginger’s friend, who I think she just called Kyle. He’s still staring more at her tits than he is her face, but Bessy has drank so much she’s now firmly in the making bad decisions phase of the evening. This is normally where I’d step in, but at this moment in time, I can’t think about anything but Lee.
Looking at the time on my watch I see it’s almost one thirty in the morning. I know he will be in bed already, as he usually gets up early on a Saturday to do the local five kilometre Park Run. I let Bessy know I’ll be back in a minute, not that she pays much attention, and I head towards the bathrooms.
To get them you have to walk out of the main room of the club, down a hallway, and then there’s a landing with three doors. There’s one for men, one for women, and one for disabled. I don’t actually need the toilet, I came out here because the music can’t be heard. I move over to the corner of the hallway, away from all the drunken people who are trying to get to the bathroom.
As I open my phone, I try to think through what I’m considering. Is this the right thing to be doing? I’ve got alcohol coursing through my veins, alongside a healthy dose of anger, and all of that is a recipe for disaster. Yet, I can’t seem to stop myself. It’s like when you drive past a car crash. You know you should look away but you just can’t. It’s like that. I know I shouldn’t make this phone call, but I do it anyway.
Most of the time Lee never gets woken up by his phone going off, he sleeps so deeply, so I’m not even remotely surprised when I get his voicemail. Without thinking it through, I let the alcohol do the talking.
“Lee, sorry to leave this voicemail, and yes, I am a little drunk. But maybe I needed a bit of Dutch courage to actually say this. I like you, and I think you know that. I’ve liked you since the moment I met you. I agreed to being friends-with-benefits because at that point I genuinely felt like having something with you was better than nothing.
