somewhere I casually look around me just in case I’m right, and wave at the little ruby red plastic dome on the ceiling.
TC: “Who are you my Mother now?” Traitor, I sigh heavily shaking my head, at the thought there could be two!
PF: “Friends Tharie, we should be able to say what needs saying without repercussions” she's not wrong though, is she?
TC: “It wasn’t my intention to miss food, I was carried away in my own little world of indigo...” ahhh, denim, better than gravy. Mum's right, I am random.
PF: “...and daydreaming about Daniel?” Spooky isn't she?
TC: “I can’t lie, he may have popped into my head once or twice, I like him” understatement of the year.
PF: “Nice arse too” what is it with her and arses?
I fail miserably to keep my best friend in the loop about my lingering feelings for Daniel, I am such a bad friend, certain nuances of the evening as played in my head, would keep her amused for days. So intoxicated was I by being in proximity to him, bloody hell I say to myself, I’m screwed.
PF: “Next time wear something other than jeans!” She scolds, is she kidding?
And before I can answer...
PF: “And no cartoon knickers either Tharie, for pity sake, you're not a teenager any-more” thankfully.
TC: “I love Spiderman Pete,” I say, in a playful tone, “and jeans are crucial to my windswept and interesting Gothic look, what would you suggest, dresses?” Anything but that, no, I don't mean anything.
I pull a face with my tongue out, strange how gesticulating on the phone where the recipient can’t see you seems to be common.
PF: “A little colour wouldn’t hurt.” that old chestnut again “and lipstick.” Yuk, just like my Mum!
TC: “I wear black and denim, it's just how it must be” thinking I’d scored a point, the people who sit around me smile at their screens at my conversation, shaking their heads. Has my Mum spoken to them too? I'll grill them individually later.
PF: “And Daniel?” she probes further spinning me back to the call, “what do you plan on doing about that handsome, wealthy, sexy, available piece of arse?” See? Arses again.
TC: “Pete, how would you know if he's available, or sexy, he's not your type?” I laugh at my gay friend.
PF: “Honey, I’d tear up my whole rule book for a piece of that gorgeous male, makes me shiver just thinking about it.” Shameful. “Besides, I’ve done my homework, you know I know everybody.” she really does.
TC: “Shameful, shameful.” I scold, “Leave the boys to those of us who know what to do with them!” I tell her amusingly, “Not that I’d want to...” back pedal, back pedal – too late!
PF: “Ha! You like him” I squirm as I realise she right, and she usually is, “fallen for the model physique, chiselled features and come to bed eyes?” She is laughing on the other end of the line, but I have to admit there appears to be a strange attraction to this man, yes, he is very nice indeed, and hot.... brain!? Stop it, and I snap the band around my wrist. Focus. It works, for now.
TC: “I wasn’t close enough to notice his eyes” I lie.
PF: “Bloody liar” busted.
TC: “That’s all I’m prepared to take from you Pete, I get enough critique from Mother” true bloody story.
PF: “Love your Mum, how is Eve?” Am I a bad daughter?
TC: “She's waiting for her book to be published, anyway, it's all about me today, what should I do?” Tell me to forget him and focus on the weekend.
PF: “That’s easy, screw him. But brush your hair and no comic pants, promise me Tharie.” I promise. “And don't buy anything called 'pants.' If it doesn't have the word 'lingerie' on the box in scrawly posh text, leave it alone.” bloody hell, she's harsh.
Note to self, buy new pants, bloody hell, I mean lingerie. That's French isn't it?
I would have been insulted and said so without a second glance back, but she is right, I need help. Sliding my finger across my screen I end the call with Pete, and begin daydreaming which is not like me, not like me at all. I walked right into this life of his for a quick look around, kept my eyes low and tried not to look directly at him. He hadn't see me in that bright bar, why should he? I’m quite plain looking with, messy brown hair. Grey as 'cloud filled with rain' coloured eyes,