Anyway, Jack appears to be in his element, and I guess he deserves to have a nice time because I think this is basically everything he’s ever wanted, so I decide to do my best to look like I’m having an OK time, even though I stick out like a sore thumb in my chinos and hoodie, among this crowd who are wearing stuff you might normally see in nightmares. I mean, on the catwalks. The whole situation reminds me of one of those school parties attended by all the popular and mean kids. Everyone’s really good-looking, and ostensibly having a good time, but there’s an unmistakable simmering tension in the room, like, you sense that no one here really likes anyone else and behind all the bravado, everyone’s really insecure because of the amount of bitching going on.
“Did you hear? Tom blocked Matty on Twitter and Insta after he slagged off Beth on Tumblr!” a random beautiful girl giggles to her friend as I pass by. It has the same ring to it as hundred of pieces of school gossip I’ve ever heard. It takes an age to squeeze through the crowd, so I manage to catch the reason for this influencer outrage, and apparently it has something to do with Beth endorsing a Superdrug lip balm, which, I mean, wow, right?
I feel completely out of place swanning around with a glass of champagne in my hand, and I don’t like the taste of it at all, but Elliot downs his within seconds, so I do the same, just to show willing. No sooner than our glasses are empty, another waitress appears with two bottles of champagne and refills them. I don’t understand why everyone is being so nice and why no one has asked us for any money or ID, but I just lamely follow Jack as he winds his way through the glamorous throng, looking for Leila, while simultaneously doing some sort of live broadcast from his phone.
Elliot tugs on my sleeve. “Why is everyone so good-looking?”
“Right?”
“Maybe we could tell Jack we’ll meet him at Shake Shack?” Elliot says.
“Yeah, I fancy a Shake Shack, I like Shake Shack. I feel like I belong in Shake Shack.” I sigh. “But Jack’s wanted this for ages, so we should probably stay.”
Elliot nods.
“And Leila’s right – he has done a lot of stuff for me.” I shake my head, watching Jack chatting and getting a selfie with a girl I recognize from the big boards advertising granola – yes, it’s Scrummy Emma herself. “It’s just…”
“What?” says Elliot.
“Oh, nothing. It’s stupid.” I take a sip of my drink and hope it will help me stop worrying that this is year nine all over again – this is Jack, finding his new mates, people who are more glittering and fabulous than me, and that he’s going to leave me behind because I could never shine this brightly even if I covered myself in hairspray and set myself on fire. I can’t quite work it out though, because we had this chat, we got it all out in the open, and I totally believed Jack when he said it would never happen again, that we were friends, best friends, and that would never end. So my stomach feels heavy and my chest feels tight because…?
Why is it not enough? Why is mates not enough for me? I don’t own him. He’s not mine. He’s going to have other friends too. What the hell is wrong with me that I don’t even want to share?
Another waitress appears in front of us, with a huge platter of amazing snacks. She looks at me and smiles, so I smile back. I glance at the tray. Is this for us? More free things?
“Mini burgers, mini fish and chips, chargrilled chilli prawns, and sun-dried tomato and feta mini tarts,” the waitress says.
I chew my lip. “Um, we haven’t paid for any of this.”
The waitress laughs, but the money thing doesn’t seem to be an issue, and she just extends the platter towards us.
OK, I’m starving, so fine, then.
I take the whole platter from her.
She looks at me, wide-eyed. “Thank you,” I say.
“Um … OK?” she replies.
Elliot picks a prawn on a stick from the tray. “Mmm!” he says.
Anyway, Elliot and I are standing there with this huge platter of snacks, which, frankly, is quite an inconvenient way to serve them, and the waitress just frowns and heads away again, so what’s suddenly got into her, I don’t know. It’s only when Elliot and I have settled on two small soft stools with the tray balanced across our laps that I realize all the other guests are just taking one item each from the food trays, before the waiting staff take the tray to someone else, and so now I feel like a total dick who has no manners and is totally uncouth but also, WHO TOLD EVERYONE ELSE HOW IT WORKS?
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
JACK
I swear to god, I leave those boys to their own devices for barely a minute, and what happens? I’ve just shared some small talk with none other than Scrummy Emma of Woodland Granola fame (who loved the idea of @TheHeartbreakBoys and suggested I take some hashtag gifted granola to promote on the account – WIN!) and have spotted Leila Bhatia up ahead, standing by herself, tapping away at her phone. I turn to make sure Nate and Elliot have followed, and I see them taking AN ENTIRE PLATTER OF FOOD from one of the waitresses, like that’s in any way what you actually do at these things. I actually can’t even. I cannot even. I have no even left.
