Six Months Earlier – August 2015
It was unbearably hot for a London evening at ten o'clock.
The windows of our small flat had been opened all day, hoping to suck in any bit of breeze that it could get. I had been dressed all day in a pair of cotton shorts with a t-shirt that had seen better days. Yet in my state of almost-undress, with the windows open and an ice pack glued to my neck, it only seemed to be getting hotter.
God, could you stop with that whole global warming thing? It's getting to be a bit much...
The sounds of Covent Garden could be heard from the open window. The bustling of cars driving past and the chatter of people, enjoying the last few weekends left of summer. It amazed me that the blistering heat didn't stop people from going out. I, on the other hand, could not imagine leaving the confines of my couch. Neither did Patsy, my ginger cat, who had nestled her way in between my leg and cushion.
But because my luck had never been on my side, my mobile began to ring. For a split second, I thought to ignore it. It was Friday night and the chances were very high that my roommate and twin sister was drunk and needed me to pick her up.
Oh did she have another thing coming if that was the case. I had already made the decision that I was permanently glueing my body to my living room couch for the rest of the weekend. Classes were starting up soon which meant so did my final year of uni. I didn't want to waste those last precious moments I had left in a dingy Soho club when I could be watching copious amounts of Friends reruns. I had an unhealthy love for Chandler Bing. I mean – how could you not? He was quite possibly my dream man.
The incessant ringing died down after a couple seconds, much to my satisfaction, only for it to be replaced by the loud knocking at my front door.
"Oh for Christ's sake, are you kidding me?" I yelled, causing Patsy to jump. She glared at me, her bright yellow eyes glaring. "Sorry sister, don't blame me." The knocking persistent, only becoming stronger. "It's open," I croaked – my throat dry, just like this bloody heat. The knocking continued, "Oh for heaven's sake, the door is open!"
Whoever was behind the door had problems hearing because the knocking only continued, adding to my already bubbling aggravation. Patsy, whose eyes were half shut lifted her body off and crawled over to the other end of the couch, burying her head into my pile of clean laundry. She mewled annoyed. "Don't give me that sass, missy. I'm not the one performing a karate routine on our door," I told her with my hands outstretched. She mewed in retort and turned her body away.
Grumbling under my breath, I shuffled my feet along the wooden floor and towards the door. "You know, knocking down my door isn't going to make me walk any faster," I opened the door to be met with the unruly hair of my next-door neighbour. I could hear the steady beat of whatever music he had been blasting in his earbuds, his hand going back up to knock.
In a karate move of my own, I held my hand out, stopping his fist from pounding into my forehead. Startled, he jumped, green eyes wide and cheeks a rosy pink. "Shit, he pulled out his earbuds, "Sorry Sam. Didn't see you."
"Clearly," I mumbled. Harry was a tall man, with unruly curly hair and a voice as smooth as butter. He was also the best mate of my sister's boyfriend and quite frankly the last person I thought I'd see on this Friday night. He was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a short sleeve button up with palm trees painted all over. He looked like he had been out – or at least, making his way. "What're you doing here? Sadie and Charlie left ages ago."
Harry smiled, wide and rosy like he always did. Now, it wasn't that I didn't enjoy seeing Harry. He was nice and all, but he was more or less Sadie's friend who had an affinity for obscure indie bands, criminal television dramas and telling really shitty jokes. He also had a bit too much pep in his step.
"Been calling your phone. Wanted to make sure you didn't melt in here," he smirked. I quirked an eyebrow up, pulling my phone from my shorts to see that the missed call was, in fact, Harry, paired with three unread text messages.
"I thought you were Sadie." Harry hummed in response, before nudging his way through the door and into the flat. "Come on in," I said sarcastically. Harry looked over his shoulder, lips outstretched into a cheeky grin.
I shut the door behind us with my foot and followed him in.
"It's like a bloody furnace in here. Jesus... why's it so fucking hot?" Harry ran his hands through his short hair, pushing a few curls off of his forehead. "Didn't your mom buy you an air conditioner last summer?"
"It broke," I explained. He used a Chinese take-out menu that had been lying aimlessly on our kitchen counter and used it as a makeshift fan. "If you're so hot, why don't you leave?"
"You're not staying in here, Sam," he said matter a fact. "You'll die."
I rolled my eyes, "That's a little dramatic, don't you think? I'm not going to die."
"Well you'll definitely suffer some type of heat stroke. Is Patsy even breathing?" I looked over at the couch where he had been staring at to see that Patsy had moved once again and was now curled up in front of the fan.
"She's fine. Seriously, Harry. We're all good." I walked over to the couch, picking up the remote and muting it. Ironically enough the episode where Ross was too hot to fit back into his leather pants was playing and I bit my lip to suppress a giggle.
Harry joined me on the couch. He stretched out his long legs in front of him, the takeout menu still in his hands. He was no longer using it as a fan but was instead browsing through the different types of chow mien it offered. "Now tell me why you're really here... because I know it wasn't to look at my copy of Mr Lee's Chinese takeout menu."
Sighing, Harry leaned back on the couch, crossing a leg over the other. "I came to tell you that your sister forgot her cell phone and is piss drunk. She and Charlie are at Cameo and need us to pick them up."
"And you couldn't get them yourself because-"
"Because Daisy is with them and the last thing I need to do is see her with her new boyfriend," he explained. I hummed in understanding.
Daisy was tall, gorgeous, and brilliant. She was also Harry's latest ex-girlfriend. They had dated for a whopping three months and he had sworn up and down she had been the one. I knew that it was impossible because Harry had said that about the last three girlfriend's he had. But judging by the way his eyebrows were contorted in something that could be construed as heartache, I couldn't help but wonder if maybe he liked her more than I realized.
And because I really did have a heart, I found myself agreeing to drive.
"Alright Romeo, let's get going then."
Harry stood stoic, his eyes glued to my body. I waved my hands in front of me, getting his attention. He blinked... once... twice... before he shook his head. "You're not going out like that are you?"
I looked at my battered Mötley Crüe shirt and cotton shorts. "What's wrong with it?"
"As much as I like Tommy Lee, you're about to leave your house looking like you've walked out of a charity shop," he informed me as if it was the most obvious thing.
I scoffed, "I'm not leaving my car so it doesn't matter if I looked like I walked out of a charity shop or London Fashion Week."
"You have to come inside," he shook his head. "Have you met your sister drunk? She's a bloody mess. Also, need I remind you that Daisy is there?"
Rolling my eyes, I scoffed once more. "And what? You want to use me to show her what she's missing out on? No thanks, mate. You're on your own there. You're a grown man. You can carry Sadie on your shoulder if you need to."
Being the pain in my ass that Harry is, he moved towards the door, swiftly grabbing my keys as he does so. Already annoyed by the whole situation, I reached out to grab my keys from the child of a man in front of me. He shook his head and lifted his arm higher, "Nuh-uh. Not until you change into something that will let you into the club."
I stomped my foot like the toddler that I am and crossed my arms over my chest. "I already agreed to go with you. Don't make this a bigger deal than it needs to be," I reminded him.
But Harry being Harry, straightened his back a little taller and crossed his own arms. Rolling my eyes in defeat, I turned around and walked into my bedroom. Grabbing the first dress I could find in my closet, I slipped it on. I tugged the grey dress down until it reached its spot above my knees. It was tight – too tight for a hot summer night, but it would have to work.
Walking out, Harry whistled. "That'll do pig, that'll do," he teased.
Slipping on a pair of sandals, I grabbed my keys from Harry's outstretched hand and instructed Patsy to not burn the flat down. Harry followed close behind as I locked the door and we made our way to the lift.
And as the doors began to shut and the curly haired man beside me rambled on about how Patsy was too clever to burn the house down, I wondered how I found myself in this position once again. Picking up my sister from some unknown bar downtown with my neighbour in a way to fitted dress.
-
Cameo is the kind of club that was dingy enough to be edgy but sophisticated enough for London's social elite. The walls were painted a dark navy grey with gold frames lining each one. The frames housed black and white photos of everything – and I meant everything; from a half-naked playboy bunny to a portrait of Queen Liz herself.
The music was deafening, to say the least, reminding me once again why I normally refused to leave the flat. Pulling at the hem of my dress, I followed Harry into the VIP section. A tall burly man stood outside it. His eyes were as dark as night and his arms looked like they could break a building in half. I stood behind Harry as he told the guard our names. Looking down at a list, he nodded, unlatching the rope and moving to the side to let us in.
It wasn't too difficult to find my sister. She was dancing with one hand clutching a bottle of something fancy, with her other arm swung around the neck of her boyfriend, Charlie. I stifled a laugh as she moved their bodies from side to side as she sang along to whatever song it was that had been playing.
"Your sister is one class act," a voice giggled into my ear. I turned around, losing my balance slightly. Harry's hand grasped onto my arm to steady me.
"Thanks," I mumbled and stood up straight. I turned my head upwards to be met with the piercing blue eyes of one Daisy Michaelson.
She was just as blonde and just as petite as I remembered her to be. She stood in front of me in a fitted metallic dress with heels as tall as Mount Everest and I suddenly felt very fat and very underdressed.
"Hey Daisy," I chose to ignore her slight jab at my sister. I wasn't in the mood to get into a sparring match. "Nice to see you looking like a disco ball." Okay, I lied. I was more in the mood than I thought.
Daisy responded with a high pitched giggle. She squeezed my arm, sloshing whatever amber liquid was in her glass. "Harry," she squealed. Like, actually squealed. Have you ever heard a grown woman squeal? I have and it's not as cute as she probably thought she sounded. "You're here! I thought you weren't coming."
I felt Harry's body stiffen beside me as he leaned closer towards my side. "Surprise," he sarcastically replied. This only earned another giggle from Malibu Barbie.
"Let's grab a drink!" She reached for Harry's arm, her manicured fingers gripping his wrist. "Catch up?"
I bit my lip to suppress a chuckle as Harry pulled his arm back, "Would love to n'all but gotta get Sadie home."
Barbie rolled her eyes, "Of course you do."
Before Harry could reply, I took his arm in my own hand and pulled him away. "Love to chat but we have more pressing matters. See you around, Daisy."
Once we were out of ear-shot, Harry sighed out in relief. "Thanks for that."
"You owe me," I told him.
Harry nodded, "Course, Sam. Anything."
I didn't reply. Instead, I focused on making the short trek across the VIP section to where my sister was still standing... or should I say dancing. It didn't take long for us to grab her attention. I think it was Harry's audacious tropical shirt that did most of the work. Her eyes lit up and mouth morphed into a Cheshire grin, "Sammy!"
"Sadie," I replied with faux excitement.
"You made it," she cheered. She dipped to the side, her heel moving under her foot as she lost her balance. "I thought," hiccup "y-you wouldn't show!"
I held my tongue as I walked closer to her, taking the bottle from her hand. "It's time to go home."
Sadie's shoulders dropped, "No it's not," she whined. "Party's only started!"
I looked at Charlie who was watching Sadie with a look that would make even a nun blush. I scrunched my nose and squeezed my body between them. I used my hip to make some space. The last thing we need was for the VIP section to turn into an East end cheap motel.
"Let's go, babe," I told her more sternly. "It's past Harry's bedtime."
"Hey now!" Harry scoffed. "Watch it."
Sadie's hand covered her lips as she released a giggle, "Harry's a big party pooper."
Chuckling, I agreed. "The biggest."
I didn't have to look up to know that Harry's lips were most likely pouted like a puerile child, but the thought only made me giggle harder. "Okay. Let's go then." Sadie whined once more but didn't argue. She slipped her arm over my shoulder, leaning her weight on me.
I always was the bigger twin. As I kid, I had felt like we could be akin to the fat lady and skinny husband... I obviously being the fat missus out of the two. Growing up, Sadie was the perfect size four whereas I fluctuated from a size twelve to fourteen. I never felt like my bigger size did me any favours. Unless I needed to pick up my drunken sister.
By the time we made it back to our building, Sadie was asleep and drooling on my shoulder. I had entrusted Harry with driving my car back when Sadie had made it clear that she had big plans to use my shoulder as her pillow. When Harry had refused to get behind the wheel of my '93 Volkswagen, I had explained to him that his shoulder would be the pillow instead. Begrudgingly he agreed to drive.
Walking down the hallway towards the front door, I was happy to finally be home. The heat had subsided to a low fourteen degrees, and I couldn't wait to curl up under the covers of my bed.
"Crash on our couch tonight."
I was looking for the key to our flat when Harry spoke up, offering his couch for the third time in a span of twenty minutes. And each time I had told him no.
"Your couch is leather. I'd rather not sleep on that." I shudder at the thought of my legs sticking.
Harry shook his head, "I have air con in the flat, Samantha. You'll be just fine."
Sadie nuzzled her head deeper into my shoulder, mumbling something about Charlie under her breath. Charlie was already passed out in their flat, too drunk to wait. Breathing in deeper and furrowing my brows, my hands slightly shook as I tried to carry both Sadie's weight and open the door.
"We'll be fine. We have windows and an unlimited supply of ice cubes," I told him as the door unlocked. I opened it with my free hand and shuffled inside.
It was hot. Way too hot and I cursed the damn room for not being a cool oasis. Harry scoffed beside me, "Oh yeah, Sam. It's a real icebox in here."
As much as I wanted to tell him no, my better judgement knew that staying the night in here would be worse than the pits of hell. So, I did what any sane person would do and moved my drunken sister over and into the arms of an unexpectant hero.
Harry let out an oomph as he caught Sadie, moving backwards as he caught his balance. "I need to get us some change of clothes... and Patsy. I'll be there in a second."
He didn't bother to mask his victorious smile and I already felt a sense of buyer's remorse. "Shove it," I muttered and not meeting his eyes.
"Patsy can sleep on my bed."
"Sure, since it's the only pussy you'll be seeing tonight," I replied sarcastically.
"Awe, Sam. Jealous?"
Sticking up my middle finger, earning a loud laugh, I walked over to where Patsy was laying. She opened an eye, sleepy and perturbed that we would wake her. "C'mon mate."
I lifted her up and carried across the hall and gently let her fall to the ground of Harry's flat. It took her a second to register where she was but soon recognized the light grey walls and the plethora of green plants that Harry housed. It didn't take her long to make her way over to Harry's bedroom, somehow knowing where it was that he slept.
Damn you, cat. You traitor...
Ignoring Harry and his annoying smirk, I quickly walked back to my flat. I picked up some clothes and my toothbrush, turning right around and locking the door behind me.
Shutting the door to Harry's flat behind me, I walked over to my bed for the night. Slipping back on the pair of cotton shorts I had been wearing earlier, I once again wondered how I found myself in this position. In an air-conditioned flat, sleeping on the couch of my neighbour who had an affinity for obscure indie bands and criminal TV shows.
--
A/N: I picture Sam close to someone like Riley Ticotin. Dark features and a curvy figure (but on the shorter side)... Mostly because I think us curvy ladies don't get portrayed enough in fics... but of course with fiction, you can picture her as anyone you'd like. xx