Chapter 1 - Sophie
The music was loud, the room was sweaty, and there had to be at least a hundred people crammed inside. Sophie knew approximately ten of them. Maybe eleven if she counted the bloke Abbie had introduced her to earlier who had immediately forgotten her name.
The important one was Abbie.
Birthday girl. Eighteen today. Currently somewhere in the middle of the room wearing a plastic tiara that said EIGHTEEN & FABULOUS, despite having spent most of the afternoon insisting she absolutely would not wear one.
Sophie had met Abbie two years earlier at their first job in the sports shop, and they’d hit it off almost immediately. Every Sunday they worked together, usually ending up in the warehouse trying on half the week’s delivery when they were supposed to be organising it.
Abbie was hilarious. The kind of person who could make Sophie laugh when she was trying very hard not to.
Which was probably why Sophie had agreed to come tonight.
She’d spent the last few hours getting ready at Abbie’s house with the other girls she actually knew, and the place had been mental. Make-up everywhere. Hair straighteners plugged into overloaded extension leads. Someone permanently asking where their shoes were.
Abbie had changed her outfit three times. Louise had drunk something suspiciously fizzy from a mug because Abbie’s mum had apparently hidden the good glasses. Sophie had spent forty minutes doing her hair only to hate it and tie half of it back anyway.
By six o’clock, Abbie’s dad and brother had retreated into the living room. Her mum lasted slightly longer before announcing she was going out and dragging them with her.
Probably for their own safety.
And now they were here.
Somebody’s cousin had hired the room above a pub. Balloons were tied to practically everything, the DJ in the corner apparently believed volume was more important than song choice, and the dance floor was packed with people Sophie was reasonably certain hadn’t all been invited.
She stood near the edge of it with Louise, holding a drink she’d been nursing for the best part of twenty minutes.
Louise leaned towards her.
“Are you actually going to drink that?”
“I am drinking it.”
“You’ve had the same amount in that glass since we got here.”
Sophie looked down.
“That’s not true.”
Louise raised an eyebrow.
Sophie took a deliberately large sip.
“There.”
“Wild.”
“Fuck off.”
Louise laughed and turned back towards the dance floor.
Sophie smiled, scanning the room for Abbie.
She spotted the tiara first.
Abbie had somehow ended up surrounded by people, one arm in the air while somebody Sophie didn’t recognise attempted to spin her around.
“Should we rescue her?” Sophie asked.
Louise looked over.
“No. She looks happy.”
“She looks drunk.”
“She can be both.”
Fair point.
Sophie took another sip of her drink.
Her eyes wandered across the room.
And stopped.
White Nike Airs.
Jeans.
A blue shirt.
Sophie looked away.
Then looked back.
Still there.
Still fit.
Sophie smiled.
Louise caught it immediately.
“What was that?”
“What?”
“That.” Louise pointed at Sophie’s face.
“Nothing.”
Louise followed her gaze and smiled.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Go.”
Sophie frowned at her.
“Go where?”
“Over there. Go now before I do.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I am not walking up to some random stranger.”
“He’s not a stranger.”
“I have literally never spoken to him in my life.”
“You both know Abbie.”
“That is not the same as knowing someone.”
“It’s close enough.”
“It really isn’t.”
Louise looked back across the room.
“He’s fit.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Louise turned slowly towards her.
“What?”
“You’ve looked at him about six times.”
“I have not.”
“You have.”
“I’m looking around the room.”
“At him.”
“He happens to be in the room.”
Sophie rolled her eyes.
“Go and talk to him then, seeing as you’re so interested.”
“I might.”
Sophie looked at her a little too quickly.
Louise burst out laughing.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You actually like him.”
“I don’t even know him.”
“You don’t have to know him to think he’s fit.”
“I said nothing about him being fit.”
“You didn’t have to. Your face did.”
Sophie glanced towards the bar again.
He wasn’t talking to his mate anymore.
He was looking straight at her.
Sophie’s stomach did something annoying.
She looked away immediately.
Louise had seen that too.
Of course she had.
“He was looking at you.”
“He was looking this way.”
“There’s a wall behind you.”
Sophie turned slightly.
There was, in fact, a wall behind her.
“Shut up.”
Louise grinned.
“Go.”
“No.”
“Sophie.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not walking across a room full of people to introduce myself to some bloke because I like his shirt.”
Louise looked at her.
“The shirt?”
Sophie glanced back towards him.
“Fine. The trainers are helping. And what’s under the shirt and jeans isn’t exactly bad either.”
“SOPHIE.”
“What?”
Louise was staring at her.
Sophie shrugged.
“I told you this wasn’t my first glass.”
Louise burst out laughing.
“Oh, you’re definitely going over there.”
“No, I’m definitely not.”
“You’ve just mentally undressed him.”
“I have done no such thing.”
“You literally just commented on what was under his clothes.”
“That was an observation.”
“Based on what?”
Sophie glanced back at the blue shirt.
“Evidence.”
Louise laughed harder.
“You’re pissed.”
“I’m observant.”
“You’re horny.”
“Louise!”
“What? You started it.”
“I absolutely did not.”
“You practically gave me a review.”
Sophie tried to look offended.
It didn’t work.
Mostly because she was laughing.
“Shut up.”
Louise nodded in his direction.
They both turned.
He was gone.
Sophie’s smile dropped slightly.
Louise looked at her.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“You’re disappointed.”
“I’m not disappointed.”
“You are.”
“I’m really not.”
Louise gave her a look.
“See? Should’ve gone over.”
Sophie took another drink.
“Shut up.”
“I call that a missed connection.”
Before Sophie could answer, Louise grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the dance floor.
They squeezed through the crowd to get to Abbie.
By the time they reached her, she’d somehow lost the tiara.
“Where’s your crown?” Sophie shouted.
Abbie threw both arms in the air.
“No idea!”
Louise leaned towards Sophie.
“Probably with Blue Shirt.”
Sophie shoved her.
“Shut up.”
For the next twenty minutes, Sophie forgot about him.
Mostly.
Abbie was impossible not to get swept up in. She was dancing with absolutely no rhythm, shouting every word whether she knew it or not, and somehow had acquired another tiara.
By the third song, all ten of them had formed the sort of circle girls apparently created instinctively on a dance floor, handbags dumped in the middle.
Sophie’s hair was sticking slightly to the back of her neck, and she regretted every second she’d spent straightening it.
Abbie grabbed both her hands.
“Are you having fun?”
Sophie laughed.
“I need air.”
“You can breathe when you’re dead,” Louise shouted.
“Seriously, Louise. I need air.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Sophie crossed the room and pushed through the door.
The cooler air hit her face immediately.
Better.
She stayed outside for a minute, then realised she needed a drink.
Definitely water this time.
Sophie headed back in and made her way towards the bar. She found a gap between two groups of people and squeezed into it.
She glanced one way.
Then the other.
And stopped.
Blue Shirt.
Standing only a few feet away with his back mostly towards her.
Of course.
He’d apparently ordered a line of shots and was working his way through them while calling something else over to the bartender.
He finished another one.
He was cute.
Very cute.
But, Jesus Christ, how long was he going to be?
She needed water.
The bartender finally glanced in her direction.
“Water, please.”
He nodded, reached underneath the bar and slid a bottle towards her.
“Thanks.”
Sophie twisted the lid off and took a long drink.
When she lowered it, Blue Shirt had turned slightly.
Closer now.
Much closer.
One of the shots was still sitting on the bar in front of him.
He looked at it.
Then at her.
“You want it?”
Sophie stared at him.
“What?”
He nodded towards the shot.
Before she could respond, an arm hooked through hers.
“There you are!”
“Abbie!”
Too late.
Abbie had already dragged her sideways.
“This is Jamie,” she announced.
A bloke Sophie vaguely recognised smiled at her.
“Jamie, this is Sophie.”
Then Abbie pointed dramatically at the watch on Jamie’s wrist.
“That used to be hers.”
Sophie looked at the watch. Then at Jamie.
It was the one she’d sold because she’d decided it was far too flashy.
Apparently not for everyone.
It suited Jamie perfectly.
Especially with the shiny grey shirt.
Of course he was wearing a shiny grey shirt.
Sophie smiled.
“Yeah. That was mine.”
She looked back towards the bar.
Damn.
He’d gone again.
“You alright?” Jamie asked.
“Yeah. Just checking something.”
Abbie was already talking over her.
“She sold it because she said it made her look like a drug dealer.”
“I did not say that.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I said it was too flashy.”
Jamie looked down at the watch.
“So you’re saying I look like a drug dealer?”
Sophie glanced at his shiny grey shirt.
“I’m saying the watch suits you.”
Abbie burst out laughing.
Jamie narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t think that was a compliment.”
“It was definitely a compliment.”
“Definitely wasn’t.”
The next hour disappeared.
More drinks. More dancing.
Abbie attempted to stand on a chair and thank everyone for coming before announcing that it was now time for them all to fuck off. She was immediately ordered back down.
Later, Sophie helped one of Abbie’s friends find an earring that everyone eventually discovered was still in her ear.
Normal eighteenth-birthday chaos.
But every now and then, without really meaning to, Sophie found herself looking for him.
Towards the bar.
Across the dance floor.
Near the doors.
Nothing.
Blue Shirt had vanished.
By the time the lights came up, Sophie’s feet hurt, her hair was a lost cause and Abbie’s tiara was hanging sideways over one eye.
“Food,” Louise announced.
“Yes.”
“Chips?”
“Yes.”
They followed everyone towards the exit, Abbie still loudly telling people she loved them while also telling them to go home.
The cold air hit Sophie the second she stepped outside.
Louise linked her arm through Sophie’s as they started walking.
“So.”
Sophie looked at her.
“Don’t.”
“Blue Shirt.”
Sophie groaned.
“Can we not?”
“You had your chance.”
“I had about twelve seconds.”
“Plenty of time.”
“To do what?”
“Say hello.”
“I did speak to him.”
Louise looked at her.
“You said ‘what?’”
“That technically counts as speaking.”
“It absolutely does not.”
Sophie laughed and nudged her with her shoulder.
Louise grinned.
“I’m sticking with missed connection.”
Sophie glanced back towards the entrance one last time.
Nothing.
No blue shirt.
No white Nike Airs.
No ridiculously fit bloke standing at the bar offering her shots.
Gone.
Fine.
He was just some random bloke at Abbie’s birthday.
She didn’t know his name.
He didn’t know hers.
Chances were, she’d never see him again.
Louise squeezed her arm.
For now, Blue Shirt was nothing more than a missed connection.
