left my heart out // n.h.& l.p. au love triangle

vi. heart in the right place

Back when I was sleeping with Liam, my friendship with Harry suffered because I was spending all my free time either shagging Liam or thinking about shagging Liam. But now that that's all over and done with, I can start thinking about other things again, like how terrible I am at video games.

"Liam's been looking for you," Harry tells me one afternoon when we're over at his flat playing FIFA. His roommate, a bloke called Ashton, isn't here because he's at his storage unit, where he keeps his drum set. I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind the noise if he played them here, but the neighbors definitely would. The woman who lives in the flat about Harry almost moved out when she found out Harry and Ashton were moving in; that's how much she hates uni students. But then she decided to stay, and now she floods the bathtub at least once a month because (Harry insists) she knows that it drips through the floor right into his bed.

"What are you talking about?" I ask. I'm losing really badly, which is half because I don't understand the rules of footie and half because I don't understand how to use the controller. Harry doesn't seem to care, though. I think he gets off on beating me.

"I saw him yesterday at the pub and he said he's been looking for you in all your usual spots, but you haven't been in any of them," Harry explains, not seeming to understand that I don't want to talk about Liam or think about Liam, much less see Liam anymore. I know we agreed that we could stay friends, but I've discovered what all girls who get involved with friends with bennies eventually must: it's really hard to stay friends with someone once you've seen their dick. And it's extra hard if they've broken your heart, too.

"Oh. Well, I've changed my routine a bit," I tell him, trying to keep my focus on the game, which is hard because I don't really even understand what's happening on the screen.

"Yeah, that's what I said. I didn't say it's because you're avoiding him, though."

"Thanks, I guess," I say, rolling my eyes. "So what's he want?"

Harry shrugs. "Just a guess, but he used to be your best mate. Maybe that has something to do with it."

"You're my best mate," I remind him. This is true: Harry's been my best mate longer than Liam has. He's been around since the very first day of uni, when we bumped into each other in the hallway and he invited me back to his room to play Fifa. At first I thought he was hitting on me, but I realized quickly that I'm not his type (my tits are much too small).

Harry rolls his eyes without taking them off the telly. "He's your other best mate, then."

"Hmph." I turn back to the screen to let him know that I really do not want to keep talking about this, and, luckily, he seems to understand. Harry doesn't say anything else and we go back to playing the game, and he doesn't mention it again when I leave a few hours later. But I'm still thinking about it, which might be why I'm not surprised to find Liam waiting in the hallway outside my flat when I get home.

"Liam," I say as he scrambles onto his feet. Liam is wearing these baggy, dark jeans with a chain hanging from the belt loops. I used to think these trousers were sexy, but now they look a bit silly and unstable to me, like they're about to fall off and expose him. It wouldn't be anything I haven't seen before, but that doesn't mean I need to see it again.

"Hey, Q." He follows me inside and stands awkwardly in the kitchen, watching me unload my Sainsbury's bags into the fridge.

"What are you doing here?" I ask when I finish and turn around to see him still standing there. I'm suddenly irritated with him, annoyed that he's come here out of the blue (even if he was on my mind and I wasn't surprised to see him) to (I'm assuming) beg me to be his mate again, when I'm still busy getting over him. What a twat.