19

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun - Cyndi Lauper

M usic fills the large lounge room, pillows are scattered everywhere, creating a cosy, laid-back vibe. Isla sent out an SOS text the other night, begging for some girl time away from Xavier because, as she put it, he's been just a little too much lately. Not in a bad way, but still, too much. So, naturally, we rallied for an emergency gathering in our girls' group chat: The Real Housewives of Wattle Creek.

Imogen came up with the name and insisted we stick with it, even though Isla's the only one who technically qualifies as a housewife.

Now, here we are, dressed in our comfiest pyjamas, at Isla and Xavier's house, surrounded by snacks on the coffee table, bottles of wine, and juice pops for Isla. I'm on my third glass of red wine, Liv is nearly sloshed, and Imogen is belting out the chorus to "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," lounging on the couch with a bowl of strawberries in her lap. Imogen, however, is only on her first glass, wanting to take it slow as she'll be needing to drive home.

This is our kind of therapy.

"This wine is amazing, Isla," Liv says, her words slurring slightly. " Where did you get it?"

Isla grins, sipping from her juice popper. "Xavier found it. He's been on this wine kick lately, trying to find the perfect one for when the baby comes."

Imogen snorts. "For the baby? Are you planning on giving the baby wine?"

We all burst into laughter, the kind that comes easy with good friends and a bit too much alcohol.

"Oh, you know what I mean," Isla says, giggling. "For after the baby is born. A celebratory wine."

"Speaking of babies," I say, trying to keep the conversation light, "I heard that pregnancy cravings can get really weird. What's the strangest thing you've craved so far?"

Isla thinks for a moment, then laughs. "Pickles dipped in peanut butter. It's actually really good; you guys should try it. Oh, and cheese. Lots of it."

"Hard pass," Liv says, making a face. "I'll stick to my wine, thank you very much."

"Cruel Summer" by Taylor Swift comes on the speakers, and Imogen's eyes light up. "Oh my god, I love this song! Let's do karaoke!"

We all jump up, grabbing whatever makeshift microphones we can find—hairbrushes, empty wine bottles, even a cucumber from the snack tray. We belt out the lyrics, our voices mixing in a chaotic but joyous mess. Liv, with her slightly tipsy state, is the loudest, and her exaggerated dance moves have us all in stitches.

After a few songs, we collapse back onto the couch, breathless and red-faced from laughing so hard. Imogen says something that makes us all burst into laughter again, though I can't quite remember what it was.

"That was amazing," Isla says, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "We should do this more often."

Imogen nods, still giggling. "Absolutely. This is the best therapy ever."

Isla takes a deep breath, looking a bit more serious. "Speaking of therapy, can I just vent for a second? Xavier has been so careful around me lately. He's reading up on everything—what diet I should be eating, what to avoid. He won't even have sex with me on a regular basis because he's worried he'll impale the baby!"

We all stare at her for a moment before bursting into laughter again. Liv scrunches up her face. "Thanks for that image."

Isla throws her hands up, flustered. "Sorry, Liv, but come on. A girl has needs. And the doctor even encouraged it, saying it's safe to resume all sexual activities. I don't understand what his problem is."

I blush at this, feeling my face heat up.

"Why not just spring it on him? Instead of asking for it, just do it. Throw on some lingerie, set the mood, and then fuck his brains out," Imogen suggests.

Isla thinks for a moment before releasing a sigh. "You know, you might be right. I will try that and let you know."

Liv says, "Let them know, not me , please," she says, pointing to herself, and we all laugh in unison.

Somewhere amidst the laughter, I ask, "Hey, where is Xavier, anyway? Is he with Bradley?"

I immediately regret my question, but we're all tipsy, so who cares? Isla shrugs. "I have no idea. Probably, otherwise, he'd be with Harrison or Michael."

The conversation shifts to sex and dating, and Imogen voices her exasperation about the dating pool in town. "It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack," she complains.

Isla grins mischievously. "What about Harrison?"

Imogen chucks a pillow at Isla. "Don't start, Isla."

We laugh, and Liv turns the conversation to me. "We need to help Amelia find a man. I've told her so many times, but she just won't budge."

"Oo. Yes," Isla chimes in, her eyes lighting up.

Imogen leans forward, curiosity piqued. "When was the last time you were with a guy?"

I feel my face flush as I mumble, "Um, well, I'm actually a virgin. So never."

Imogen gasps dramatically. Isla hits her with a pillow this time. I hide my face in my hands, feeling embarrassed.

"But you're stunning, Amelia! You could have any guy," Imogen adds in disbelief.

I scoff. "Yeah, if I knew how to talk to them."

"But you do! You talk to the guys all the time—Xav, Harrison, even Bradley. You seem to be close with Bradley," Isla points out.

"Oh, no. We're just civil... I guess," I say, trying to downplay any potential implications .

"Hm, he seems to have warmed up to you recently," Isla insists, her observation making me squirm inside.

Imogen nods, looking at me intently. I glance at Liv, who's also watching me, waiting for me to say something.

How have I been that obvious? Is it that obvious? I hope to God Liv hasn't noticed anything.

Before I can dwell on it further, Imogen practically jumps out of her seat, almost tumbling over, and we all laugh. "I just had a brilliant idea," she exclaims. "Amelia and Bradley should hook up. Two single people, two good-looking people. Why the fuck not?"

Olivia bursts out in laughter, and I giggle nervously as heat rises to my cheeks, feeling a flutter inside.

"No fucking way. As if," Olivia retorts. "I don't think anyone could handle Bradley's mood swings. He's worse than me."

I look down nervously and find Imogen and Isla watching me. "Yeah, no."

Imogen, still elated at her idea, smiles. "Why not? I mean this in the friendliest way possible, Olivia, but Bradley is hot . Sexy officer vibes. Tall, grumpy, so polite."

She's not wrong.

Isla nods enthusiastically, adding, "I love Xav, but I agree with her. Brad's a catch."

Suddenly, all my tipsiness goes out the window, and I'm immediately sobered up as Olivia's words sink in.

"Would you? You wouldn't actually consider dating Bradley, would you?" she asks, her face slightly flushed .

"Uh, n-no. I mean, it's just... not something I've thought about." I stumble over my words, feeling a rush of awkwardness flood through me. Crap, this is awkward , now suddenly wishing I could take back what I just said.

"Yeah, that would be a bit weird, wouldn't it?" she says with a huff of laughter.

"Not really. Why would it?" Isla says, and I only feel my embarrassment deepen further.

"Well, she's my best friend. It's just weird."

I can't handle this conversation anymore. It's like being under a spotlight with no way out. Imogen's looks are inscrutable, and they only add to my nerves.

This whole situation is a minefield, and I'm standing right in the middle of it, sweating bullets. It's probably the sudden attention, but the alcohol isn't helping either.

I need an out.

I clear my throat. "Uh, I'm just going to use the bathroom," I say, standing up quickly.

Imogen quickly joins in, rising from her seat. "Well, then… I think that calls for a refill and more music," she declares, and Olivia chimes in with, "Yes, please!"

As the night wears on, Isla's large lounge room buzzes with laughter and chatter, blending seamlessly with the upbeat music. Imogen has moved on from strawberries to chocolate, and Liv, clutching a juice pop, is dancing with wobbly enthusiasm.

I, on the other hand, feel a knot of tension growing inside me. Olivia's comment about Bradley has left me feeling exposed, like everyone in the room can see right through me. I'm conflicted, unsure of what to do next.

Should I tell Bradley about this conversation?

But how can I when he hasn't spoken to me since that weekend? The thought of messaging him out of the blue makes my stomach churn with nerves.

Imogen's gaze occasionally lingers on me, her expression unreadable. The thought that she might know something, something about Bradley and I, sends a shiver of nervousness down my spine.I try to shake off the feeling of being under a microscope and join in the conversation. We chat and laugh, and for a moment, I manage to forget about my worries.

Soon enough, we slowly start to sober up, the laughter giving way to tired smiles. By the time we're ready to leave, the fun chaos of the evening has quieted down. Liv is staying the night, so it's just Imogen and I saying our goodbyes. She offers to drive me home. We make our way to her blue Volkswagen Polo, and once inside, she puts the car into gear.

"Sorry for putting you on the spot earlier," Imogen says, breaking the silence.

Nervousness creeps up again. "I don't know; what do you mean?"

"You know... you, Bradley, hooking you up, our weekend away…" Her words trail off, and my pulse picks up. Weekend away?

I freeze.

"Weekend away? What do you mean?" I ask, downplaying the unease emanating from me.

"You know, that night in the kitchen while we were away. You were talking to Bradley, no?" So she did see us that night. Panic flares up inside me, my heart racing. What else did she see? Does she know everything?

"Uh, well, yeah. We… We were just talking. Nothing happened." I blurt out, my eyes widening immediately.

"Seemed like you two were cosy that night in the kitchen."

Shit .

"Mhm. No point trying to fool me, girl. I wasn't sleepwalking; I saw you both but didn't want to disturb your… moment."

I realise I said that out loud and not in my head.

"Oh, God, it's… I…" Words fail me, and I stutter, at a loss.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not Liv. I don't care. I'm just pointing out what I saw." Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, embarrassment flooding through me. Imogen turns to look at me.

"Hey, please. I didn't mean to make you upset."

"No, it's not that, it's just… I'm so screwed. I don't know what's happening."

Everything's such a mess. Bradley and I were supposed to be careful, but now it feels like the whole world is closing in.

"Well, what has happened?" She's curious but calm, and it only makes me feel more tangled up.

"Nothing!" My hands fly up in frustration. "Well, maybe something. We kissed twice."

"Twice! Well, I'll be damned. "

Confiding in Imogen just feels right. God, it feels so good to get this off my chest. I don't know why, but there's something comforting about sharing this with her.

"Ugh. I'm so torn, Imogen. It's just that I've crushed on him for as long as I can remember, and now it's all…"

"Weird?"

"Yeah," I say as she pulls up out the front of my place.

"Does anyone know about this crush?"

"No. No one. So you can't say anything, please!" I plead.

"I won't," Imogen says, then takes a breath. "But I think you'll need to tell Olivia soon. Maybe once things between you and Bradley settle or become clear."

Her words hang heavy in the air.

Tell Olivia?

The thought makes my stomach churn. How can I even begin to explain this to her?

"I know. You're right. Gosh, this is so weird. I just don't know what to do with all of this." My thoughts spiral. Should I reach out to Bradley? But how can I when we haven't spoken since that weekend? The idea of messaging him out of the blue twists my stomach with unease.

What if he doesn't want to talk? Or worse, what if he regrets everything?

Imogen gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, take it one step at a time. You don't have to figure everything out tonight."

"Thanks, Imogen. I really appreciate it. Getting this all off my chest feels..." I pause, searching for the right words. "It feels like a huge weight has been lifted."

She smiles. "Good. Now go get some rest. Things will look different in the morning."

I smile back, a bit more at ease. "Yeah, I hope so."

"Goodnight, chica. And don't hesitate to call if you need to talk more."

"I will. Goodnight, Imogen. Thank you for everything." I open the door and hop out, but Imogen stops me just before I close it.

"You know, for what it's worth," she says, her voice gentle, "I really do think you and Bradley would make a great couple."

I nod nervously, my heart pounding in my chest. Her words echo in my mind as I watch her drive away. Inside, the reality of the situation settles over me. What do I do now? Should I call Bradley? Text him? But what would I even say?

The knot in my stomach tightens. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

I close the door behind me and lean against it, letting out a deep sigh. This is so complicated. My fingers itch to type out a message.

Maybe tomorrow.

For now, I need to try to get some sleep, though I know my thoughts will be consumed by Bradley and the mess we're in.