Sunburn

She picked up on the first ring.

“Look, Matt, I’m really sorry,” she said, steamrolling over the apology I’d been practising for almost ten minutes. “I really shouldn’t have said what I did- I had no right.”

“No, I was wrong. I just sort of flew off the handle… sorry.”

There was a short, awkward silence, which I broke.

“Uhm, so… if you still want to come round, you can. I mean, it’s late but you can stay or something, if you want…” I trailed off.

“Yeah. Er, that’s be nice,” she said and then added, as an afterthought, “thanks.”

My mum waggled her eyebrows crazily at me when I’d announced that Emma would be staying.

“That’s his girlfriend,” she ‘whispered’ to my dad.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” my dad said, turning away from the news to look at me.

“I don’t,” I replied with a frown. “Mum, Emma’s not my girlfriend. I’ve only known her a month and a half!”

But she just waggled her eyebrows some more.



Emma-Lyn and I didn’t do much.

After we’d both tried out-apologising each other on the doorstep, we went into the kitchen to make her a hot chocolate and me a mug of tea.

She was pretty impressed at the progress I’d made on my room without her sturdy instruction, and asked me how I did it. I just shrugged in reply; I figured that telling her I did it so I wouldn’t have to call her wouldn’t have gone down too well.

And then we watched the Dark Knight and then we fell asleep.

I was awoken, as was usual on a Saturday morning, by someone on a motorbike gunning it down the road.

Emma-Lyn’s head popped up next to mine, her hair going in every which direction, and she looked at me confusedly.

“What the hell is that?” she groaned.

“It’s a bike,” I replied, and she frowned before flopping back into the bed.

“Stupid fucking bitches,” she mumbled, pulling the cover over her head.

I looked down at the lump she made under the cover and sighed. I wanted to go back to sleep, but I suddenly felt awkward.

The plan had been for Emma to sleep in the newly done up spare room, not for us both to practically pass out once the movie was finished.

“Matt,” she groaned when I’d dithered for a bit.

“Yeah?”

“Are you getting up or lying down? Whichever you do just… speed it up a bit. You’re disturbing my sleep.”

Well.

I was still tired.

I buried myself under the covers next to her, closed my eyes and promptly fell asleep.



When I next woke up, my bed was empty of Emma-Lyn.

I wandered down to the kitchen.

Emma-Lyn and my mum were chuckling over steaming mugs about how hopeless men were.

“Morning,” I yawned, stumbling over to the freshly boiled kettle so that I could make myself a cuppa.

“Morning Matt,” Emma said brightly.

“Morning sweety,” my mum said, the fond smile on her face interrupted by a look that I knew only too well.

Oh crap.

“Mum, what did you say?” I asked, all thoughts of tea forgotten.

“Nothing, love,” she said, but her smile was too big.

“Emma? What was she saying?”

“Really, Matt, it was nothing,” Emma assured me, but her innocence looked faked.

“Ugh. You two are both awful, and I hate you,” I muttered, turning back to my tea.

Emma laughed. “Aww, don’t sulk Matty!” she teased, but I ignored her.

“So what are you doing today?” my mum asked as I went to sit down.

I shrugged, and looked over to Emma.

“I was thinking I could show you around our town, in particular it’s charming ice rink,” she said, with a hopeful smile.

“No. No,” I said and then added, for good measure, “absolutely not.”

“Matt can’t skate,” my mum said easily.

“Mum!” I spluttered, affronted.

“You can’t skate? Well, that settles it then!” Emma said, and the look in her eyes told me that my feelings on the matter were irrelevant. “We’re going skating.”



“How was skating?” my mum asked when we got in that evening.

“We don’t talk about skating,” I replied, allowing my jacket to drop off of my pained shoulders and onto the tiled hall floor, my tired body soon following it. I don’t understand how or why everything hurt so much, but it really, really did.

“Come into the kitchen love, I’ll make you a cuppa,” my mum said.

“I’m never moving again,” I moaned into the floor.

“But you’ll trip people coming in through the door,” she pointed out reasonably.

“Good.”

“But what if Emma were to come to visit and hurt herself?”

“All the better. I hope she trips over me and dies.”

“Matt,” my mum chided, but she hadn’t been there. She couldn’t know.

Emma had been absolutely awful.

Her time, when it was not spent in flying across the ice, was spent in laughing at me. Not a single second was spared in helping me up off my backside.

Horrendous.

“Alright. Well, I’ve got the kettle on. I’ll still make you a cuppa but I won’t be brining it out here where someone can spill it after they’ve tripped over you,” she said breezily, returning into the kitchen.

I groaned, and dragged myself up after her.

She knows me too well.



Hey Matt.

I was startled at around eleven by that text. It was from Lucy. She was a nice girl; I liked her well enough, but we didn’t really speak outside of school.

Hey Lucy, I replied, what’s up?

Not much. I have a free house in a fortnight, so I’m doing a thing. If you want to come, I live at 26 Stanhope Gardens. You can probably get Emma-Lyn or Caroline to show you the way.

I took a second to consider her proposition. Sounds cool. I’ll check with my mum, but I’ll probably be able to make it. Thanks for the invite.

No problem. Had a good day?

Not at all. It was terrible, and if you see or speak to Emma-Lyn you can tell her from me that I hate her, and I’m never talking to her again ☺

Seriously?! I thought you two were joined at the hip!

I chuckled, and typed out my reply. Emma would know it was a joke, even if Lucy didn’t.

Well, I’ve had her removed. See you Monday!

And with that, I switched my phone to silent and went to sleep.