1991

1991 part 1

I glance at the clock on the night-stand next to my bed. 7.35. It's dark outside and the sky is inky black through my bedroom window.

'Sam...Sam?'

I can hear someone calling my name up the stairs. It's Kevin.

"Yeah?" I shout, not wanting to move from under my duvet. I'm cosily covered, propped up on fluffy pillows, spooning an obscenely large bowl of cereal into my mouth while watching TV in the dark. Friday night, at home, alone. I just can't deal with the effort of getting dressed up and going out tonight, it's too much work. 

"Phone!" Kevin's voice comes up the stairs again. Fuck, now I have to get up. I put the bowl on the floor and reach for a cigarette, grab my lighter and climb out of my nest with a sigh. I sling a huge, stripy jumper over my head and pad down the stairs in my socks. Kevin's left the receiver on the stairs and disappeared back into the basement. He's a DJ, like every other boy at college. Our basement has been transformed to house his collection of rare dance music white labels and his outrageously expensive decks. Kevin locks himself down there for hours on end, which is actually fine because the foundations of the house seem to muffle most of the noise. Kevin's cool and we get on really well, we just have very different views on music.

I sit on the bottom step, light my cigarette, take a long drag, exhale and then pick up the phone.

"Yello?"

"Hello darling," my best friend Kirsty purrs, "are you sitting down?" Regret knots in my stomach, I should have told Kevin to say I was out. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I rack my brains for a feasible excuse before she asks the inevitable.

"I'm not coming out K, it's no use." Smoke gets in my eye and I rub it with the heel of my hand, "I don't feel well, I'm in bed" Pathetic, even a useless liar like me could do better. Kirsty's giggles are starting to irritate me. I can hear music and bar noise in the background and what sounds like more excitable squeals. I'm so not in the mood for this tonight.

"I only asked if you're sitting down sweetheart" more giggling and squealing. The only way out of this is to play along.

"Right, fine, yes, yes I'm sitting down," I sigh, wondering if there's any beer in the fridge. I need a drink.

"Guess where I am?" Kirsty's giggles are reaching fever pitch.

"A bar by any chance?" I snap sarcastically, "Kirsty, listen I'm not in the mood, I'm not gonna come out," I move to hang up the phone.

"Wait! He's here!" 

I freeze, my hand in mid air. 

"right now at the bar, and... he asked about you." 

My interest is peaked. Nick!

"He did?"

"Yep, he asked where you were, and of course I said you were on your way. So... you have to be on your way, right? We're at the Off Ramp Cafe." 

I suddenly feel an urge to kiss her.

"I'll be there in 30."

"No need to thank me babe," I hear Kirsty smile as I replace the receiver.

I sprint, taking the stairs two at a time and burst into my bedroom, flicking on the lights. Only 30 minutes to get ready! What can I wear? I've been in love with Nick since the first day of college when I saw him at the bottom of a stairwell. I know it sounds stupid but I fell in love with his backpack first, or maybe it was the way he wore it slung casually over one shoulder. Nick is so gorgeous, blonde, blue eyed with preppy floppy hair. Kirsty doesn't see it, she always wrinkles her nose when I mention him, but she respects my obsession regardless. Her taste in men is totally different to mine. Her crushes always look like they've been dragged through a hedgerow, all long hair and crusty looking t-shirts, whereas I prefer the boy-next-door. Less threatening, safe and harmless I guess. Someone to take home to your Mom.