staring glassily at Dawson’s Creek with the sound off. She knows instantly. ‘Oh my God, hon.’
‘I’m fine,’ I tell Dawson’s big fat forehead. ‘Sorry about the cushion. I’ll clear it up. I’ll buy you a new one.’
She dumps her giant bag of overnight gear onto the floor and sits by my head, reaching out to put her hand on me. The kindness of it makes me start weeping.
‘Sorry,’ I keep saying. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry! Don’t worry about the cushion. What’s going on? Oh hon.’ She lifts me up from under my shoulders and kind of drapes me into hugging her. I cry onto her shoulder, tears flowing, my muscles too heavy to move myself. I’m like one of Taylor Swift’s highly malleable cats. Megan strokes my hair. ‘Oh honey,’ she whispers into my hair. ‘There, there, it’s going to be OK. It’s in the past, remember? It can’t hurt you now.’
‘I’m being stupid,’ I manage to get out. ‘It will pass. Sorry. I think Dawson pushed me over the edge.’
She laughs. ‘He has that impact on most people. Right, come on. Sugar. You need sugar.’ She strokes my hair one last time, then gets up and goes into our kitchen, returning with the Dairy Milk she’s smart enough to keep in the fridge. She breaks off a block of eight fat squares. ‘Eat,’ she commands, pushing the chocolate into my mouth. It’s hard to bite into without chipping a tooth, but I chew and obey. It starts to melt and turn to thick, creamy sludge, squelching in between my teeth. It tastes nice. I swallow and open my mouth like a baby bird. Megan laughs, cracks another line and feeds it to me, before having some herself. Within minutes, the sugar has done what it’s supposed to do and I feel slightly lifted, slightly more able to hold up my own muscles again. I wiggle so I’m sitting upright.
‘Sorry,’ I say again.
‘Stop saying sorry.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I will hit you.’
‘Why is Dawson so annoying?’
‘He is actually the worst. What episode you on?’ She sits next to me and we press play and watch the rest of it. It’s the one where Dawson and Joey finally kiss and Megan lets out a sigh when they do.
‘I can’t believe they’ve not noticed it’s raining,’ I say. It’s what I always say when we watch this one.
‘I know. Even Andie fucking MacDowell noticed the rain when she was kissing Hugh Grant. And Hugh Grant is way more distracting to kiss than Dawson.’
We watch the two teenagers swap saliva and return to our predictable arguments about why Pacey is so much better. When the credits kick in, and Dawson has gone on to patronise another day, Megan and I turn to one another.
‘What set it off?’ she asks.
‘I love you, but I really don’t want to talk about it. Please, can we talk about something else?’
‘I love you too.’ She switches off Dawson and the screen goes black. ‘I’m a bit too worried to leave it though. I mean, you’ve gutted a Laura Ashley cushion.’
‘I told you I’d clear it up!’
‘OK, OK, that’s not why I was saying it. I just hate seeing you like this.’
‘Honestly, it was just a wobbly moment. I’m probably just hungover. Sorry.’
‘I’m sorry too.’
‘What’s going on with you, anyway? I hardly seen you these days. Is everything all right?’
Megan nods, then shakes her head, then nods again. ‘I think I’m really falling for Malcolm,’ she admits, her hair covering her face.
I shift up on the sofa, glad for the distraction. The heat moves around my skin and I peel myself off the stick of the sofa. ‘Seriously?’
‘I know. It’s a disaster, but I’m hoping a good one.’
‘Good disasters. The ultimate catchphrase for love.’
She smiles. ‘It’s so nerve-wracking getting feelings for someone. I’ve been going a bit crazy. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed.’
‘Not at all.’
‘Liar.’
‘I mean, all your thoughts about shared doors are so rational.’
She throws her head back into one of the puffy cushions I didn’t destroy and they let out a gasp that matches her sigh. ‘I didn’t want this to happen. I honestly just wanted a one-night stand. But it’s taken me totally by surprise how much we have in common, and he’s such a gentleman. We get on so well, like I feel like I’ve known him forever, and the sex is really great, and it’s like we’re addicted to one another and I can’t stop thinking about him …’