M i r i a m | f o u r t e e n

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"What should I wear?" Miriam wailed at her phone, face contorting into a look filled with unkept despair.

"Like it matters," Abi said, glancing up at the camera. "You've got Ade right where you want him."

"Except it does matter. You never have them, trust me."

Laid out in front of her were three outfits. One in all black, another comprising of too many elements and a third that was tricky to pee in. Each looked good on, of that Miriam was sure, but she wanted to send the right message. Namely: I'm ready and waiting. Only, the moment Ade received it, comprehending and digesting, she would pull back and send another which inspired caution, uncertainty, a third leg in the race.

"He's obsessed with you," Abi said, still missing the point.

"I don't—"

The front door opened; Miriam groaned inwardly. "Fuck." She strode towards her bedroom door and closed it.

"What's wrong?" Abi asked when Miriam returned to her bed.

"It's Wes."

"So?"

Grabbing her AirPods from her bedside table, Miriam stuffed them in her ears and said, "He's been acting weird."

"What?" Abi snorted. "Like chatting to the girl in the pub last night?"

"Yeah, he even brought her home. I couldn't leave my room until eleven."

"So? Isn't that what it's like living with a twenty-year-old guy?"

"Wes isn't like that," Miriam said defensively. "I mean if he does, you know, it's never in the flat. He doesn't even really flirt in front of me."

"Seriously?" Abi looked like she was about to roll her eyes but somehow thought better of it.

"Yeah," Miriam insisted. "It's like our unspoken rule. I mean, it's not like he sleeps around anyway, but he especially doesn't do it here. At least he didn't until this week."

"What do you mean it's not like he sleeps around?" Abi was laughing so hard Miriam had half a mind to jump through the phone screen and push her. "Wes has a reputation," she said once she'd calmed down. "Well, had."

"Exactly, past tense. He doesn't do that anymore."

"I'm not being funny," Abi said, finally giving Miriam her undivided attention, "but why do you care? It's not like you're sleeping with him."

"I don't care," Miriam said breezily. "He could just do so much better."

"Then?"

"Some rando he met in the pub. I mean it's the fucking pub."

"But you don't know these girls," Abi pointed out. "They could be amazing and kind and—"

"I highly doubt that."

"So what?" she sighed. "No one's good enough for him?"

"I didn't—are you going to help me pick an outfit or not?" Miriam almost stamped her foot.

"Fine, fine," Abi laughed. "Wear the black dress. You'll look amazing."

"Thanks." Miriam picked up the dress, allowing the silky material to slip through her fingers and collect in a pile in the centre of her bed.

"And if Wes asks," Abi added, "you were with me."

"Seriously?" Miriam felt her heartrate pick up. "You'd lie for me?"

"Of course. There's no point you and Wes arguing over this, in a couple of weeks Ade will be a distant memory and you can go back to being your weird ass selves."

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