The First Last Kiss by Ali Harris

I’ve thrown myself into work. I even offered to go in between Christmas and New Year – mainly because I couldn’t bear spending any more time at home with my parents. Luckily I knew he wouldn’t be there. He who shall not be named. He’s not at Viva anymore, he’s been promoted to a new role at Brooks Publishers so he’s no longer in our office.
    The truth is, I know I’m strong enough to work through this on my own but Casey craves the tears and the drama. I know it’s not easy to understand if you’re not like me, so I try and give her a bit of what she wants just to get some peace and quiet.
    We leave Casey’s flat and people are walking past with party hats and blowers and stupid, wacky 2005 glasses. How dare they have fun when I’m feeling like this? I’m standing, shivering at the entrance of Players, the club Casey works at, as she chats to the doormen and waves at the people in the queue, all of whom seem to know her – some of the men pretty well, judging by the way she drapes herself over them in greeting. She confirms this by whispering their ‘scores’ to me when she comes back over. Casey has been a hit with men for way more years now than she was a misfit teen. I remember the exact moment when it all changed. When, aged seventeen, her boobs grew out, her body grew up and her hair grew down, all at the same time.
    She can get a guy these days, she just hasn’t got the knack of keeping them. She pretends that this is fine but I know she’d give anything for someone to love her like Ryan loves – I mean love d – me.
    I gulp as an image of him pops into my brain and I valiantly try to swallow the tears back. I can’t cry here. Not on New Year’s Eve. I’m here to have ‘fun’, to let my hair down, like Casey says, to do all the things that single girls are meant to do: dance, drink and flirt. All the things I thought I was missing out on when I was with Ryan and that I can’t bear to do now that I’m not. My mum was right. Molly Molly Quite Contrary, that’s me.
    As tears sting the back of my eyes I wonder where he is now, probably down the pub with all his mates. I can see them as clearly as I can see Casey’s nipples through her slinky silk top. I did try and tell her to put a strapless bra on, but she wasn’t having any of it. And to be honest, she looks amazing. I realize I have no idea how to dress for clubbing anyway. Casey insisted on lending me some of her clothes. So now I look like something out of Footballers Wives in an orange, slashed-to-the-navel-dress with sparkly heels that are completely ridiculous, and totally not myself. But that’s probably the point.
    I feel Casey prodding me. I ignore her, wanting to keep Ryan in my head. I’m pretty sure she’s just pointing out another guy she ‘knows’. Suddenly, I feel myself being pulled into the club, straight through the VIP entrance and into an area cordoned off with red rope. There are big, lush jewel-coloured sofas and crushed-velvet chaises longues. A smattering of beautiful people are already draped over them, their fake tans and white teeth glowing under the UV lights.
    Casey looks wired. She is waving manically and sends me over to a seat right in the corner. ‘Sit there, babe!’ she says brightly, in a high-pitched voice. ‘I’ll um, I’ll just get us some drinks!’ And she disappears, leaving me to sit on my own. A guy immediately swaggers over, in a try-hard outfit of a fitted white designer T-shirt, with Gucci sunglasses hung over the V-neck. The T-shirt is pulled taut and tucked into his tight faded jeans to enhance his gym-honed body and to reveal his ostentatiously displayed Hermes belt, presumably. None of this hides the vacant expression he’s wearing as his main accessory.
    ‘Hey girrrrl, you’re too pretty to be alone,’ Hermes Guy drawls, looking back at his mates and giving a thumbs-up sign.
    I raise an eyebrow: ‘And you’re too stupid to realize that I want to be.’ He looks