1991

1991 Part 33

 I check my face one last time in the mirror and breathe out slowly trying to calm my nerves. Kirst should be here any minute. She's actually promised to leave Chris behind for once and come and be my knight in shining armor instead, just for one night. Because it is after all a really, really fucking big night.

I fiddle with a few strands of my hair, pulling them down to soften my face a little. My birds nest of a hair style is piled up messily, keeping it off my neck and upper back, it's too hot to have it down. My outfit (picked out by Kirst of course) is completely out of character for me but I have decided to be brave and take her advice, god knows the girl knows how to make an entrance and her last make-over on me worked better than I could have ever imagined. In the last few months I've got skinnier than usual, I call it the heartbreak diet and it works an absolute fucking treat. If I could market it I'd be a millionaire, scratch that, a billionaire. So, for the first time and probably last time ever in my life I'm wearing a crop top, which is some kind of miracle. It's black and sleeveless and ends just above my belly button, meaning there's like an inch and half of flesh on display between it and my jean shorts. I drew the line at a skirt, I'm not completely crazy. Vintage black jean shorts and my absolute favourite docs on my feet. Kirst says I look 'edgy'. Not sure what she means but I'm comfy and not too hot which is the main thing now that the weather has changed and we're all sweating constantly. I pull a cigarette from a pack on the dressing table and light it, taking a long drag in. I can absolutely do this.

"Sam! Sammy! Samantha?!" Kev is yelling from the bottom of the stairs. Kirst must be here already.

I check my make-up one last time, quick spritz of perfume and I'm done. Breathe, just breathe.

"Wowzers gorgeous! You look hot!" Kirst is standing in the middle of the lounge with a large beer in a frosted mug (bless Kev and his domesticity). She looks amazing, tiny grey and black spandex dress that just covers her modesty. It's impossible to have any secrets wearing that thing!

"Yeah? Because I don't feel hot, which is a good thing because it's fucking boiling outside," I say completely missing the point.

"Darling I meant you look divine," Kirst laughs.

"Uncomfortable to look at you," Kev confirms, "I feel genuinely awkward looking at you."

"Aww thanks Kev, really?"

"Yep, really," he grins, "whoever he is Sam he is one fucking lucky guy."

I blush hard at his words and don't really know what to say. Kirst comes and slips her arms around me, pulling me in for a hug, she smells like patchouli and weed, as always.

"He is, one fucking lucky guy," she whispers in my ear. The tiniest threat of tears comes but I swallow quickly.

"Here, let's have a toast before we go guys," Beck comes out of the kitchen with a tray of shots and hands them out to all of us.

"To an amazing night..." she smiles at all of us "and to awesome friends."

Everyone downs their drinks and winces. Beck disappears and returns straight away with yet another tray of shots.

"And one for the road because I suspect at least one of us here is literally shitting bricks and needs it!"

Everyone looks at me and smirks a little. I roll my eyes.

"It's not that big of a deal, it's just a gig," I stammer but I can't help but grin a little. I'm wavering between intense dread and intense excitement. Either way tonight is going to be important, I can feel it. I just can't get my hopes up too much.