This must be a mistake or someone's bad decision.

But it's too late to call Fee about this now. Tomorrow will do. And like that, I fall into a slumber with the laptop still in my arms and wake up only when James arrives home slamming the door.

It's four a.m.

"Where have you been the whole night?" I ask, still sleepy.

"Around."

"Around with whom?" Around never sounds good.

"Michael and the guys."

"And what did you do?"

"Stuff..." I could smell the stuff on him, lots of booze.

"What stuff?" Yet I ask because I want him to say it.

His clothes are dirty as if he had been in a fight.

"You are drunk again?!" I want to scream at him but this won't help. We need a compromise.

"Look, I was overreacting. Let's forget this. I'll make you a coffee. But seriously James you are twenty-eight, stop acting so irresponsible."

"What?"

"Are you not listening?" He is staring at a spot on the counter for long minutes.

Then it dawns on me. He isn't actually listening.

"Look at me! You are high. What did you take?"

His green irises are only a thin ring around a giant pupil.

"None of your business."

"Sure it is my business, you are my boyfriend. Fuck, what money did you get high with?" He wasn't smelling of weed so it was something else, something stronger and also more expensive.

"You took our rent money, didn't you?" It hurt to say the words. I hurried to the box we kept the cash locked in. It was empty.

"We are already two months due. He will kick us out! Damn it, James! It is the only thing I asked you not to do. You have no idea how it is to sleep out there. I told you how horrible it is! Why are you doing this to me?"

"You shut up!" He spits the words and walks out into the London streets.

Blood is pounding into my temples. I throw a hoodie on and run into the streets. My feet carry me out of force of habit to the high school and there I punch the boxing bag, in lack of an opponent, till both my knuckles are bloody.

After the anger dampers, the fear takes over. Fear and humiliation because I know exactly what I need to do. There is unfortunately no other way. No fast way. No suitable way for the time I have.

It's now about eight in the morning and I wale in elf pity on the dirty floor of the gym. After yet another deep breath, I press call.

"Hey, Fee! How are you doing?" Tears are creeping up my voice.

"Thinking about how to do my hair for the party."

Oh gosh, I forgot about that, about the damn party Fiona paid for me.

"I uh, got an email stating that I have paid for attending. Happen to know something about that?"

"Come on, Nate! Yes, I want you to come. I do. It's done now so can you, pretty please?"

"Fee, you know I would just feel awkward and all."

"No. I would be there and we can feel awkward together and eat and get shit-faced. The money is gone. It's my graduation present to you and myself."

I sigh.

"Listen, I actually called for another reason."

"Yeah, shoot. What are you waiting for?"

Courage?

"I... Can you... I swear it's the first and last time..."

"Girl, spill..."

"Can you lend me a thousand pounds?"

There is a short minute of silence and I freeze.

"I am so sorry, but you are the only person I know who could and would. I will never ask you that again but James got high on our rent money and we are already overdue. And I am shitting myself because we will land on the street. I am so very sorry."

"Nate."

"I feel so fucking awful."

"Natalia, fucking listen!"

I scrunch my eyes together.

"Of course I will."

"Oh, Lord. Thank you, Fee! I promise I will pay you back as soon as I get some money which will hopefully be next week. But are you sure it's okay? What will your mom say?"

"I don't know because I don't plan on telling her."

"Where do you get then so much money from?"

"I have a trust fund, a savings account and I get money to spend on the Maldives and sometimes I really forget how fortunate I am. But you just reminded me. Nate, I've got you. Just like you did. But I have one condition."

"Let me guess, you want me to go to that damn party."

"Exactly. See you there! I will send the money right now. Love ya!"

Does my life suck right now? Definitely. Some good food and expensive booze doesn't sound that bad in hindsight. I know everybody will look at me as they usually do, a bit condescending and weirded out. One might think that in four years I got used to it but nope, not really.

There's a knock on the door and I instantly sit up, thinking James is back.

"You can fucking stay outside if you forgot your keys; I won't open, James! You were a total jerk."

"It ain't James. Come on, bitch, open up, I am sweating my balls off here."

"Malik?"

"Yeah, obviously. Fiona sent me over to help you get ready for the party. Open up."

Malik is standing at the door with a present in hand and a brilliant smile on his face.

"Happy graduation, bitch!"

I hug him so hard he probably can't breathe because I need it and because I am fucking miserable and happy at the same time.

"It's all good. I am not crying, you are. Come let me in, I'll help you do your hair, and open the damn present."

Nervously I unpack a long, flowing, creme-golden dress.

"Malik, you made this? It looks amazing." It looks like the most beautiful piece of garment I have ever possessed.

"I know, right? Who's the most talented bitch around? That would be me, I guess. My old man beat me up enough for liking to sew, but someday I'll be the black motherfucking Armani, just watch me. Now try it on. And I had some fabric left so I made a little clutch too because I bet you don't have a party bag. Where is your other one I'll transfer your stuff till you shower and get dressed."

"I feel like a weird type of Cinderella."

"And this would make me the fairy godmother I guess. Hmm, old and sassy. I can live with that."

I can barely grasp the mirror image. It's probably the first evening dress I am wearing in... ever.

"How does it look?" I whisper because I am in awe. It's so beautiful it makes me feel pretty too.

"Natalia, my love, you were given so many beautiful traits that you usually manage successfully to bury under those ill-fitted clothes that come now to light. I mean, you have the ass, you have the abs, you do lack something in the boobs department but that is fine, I guess; fits your small frame. We need to do something with the hair, maybe put it up but... You look beautiful. I will say it twice, once also for your mom, because she would say the same thing."

Malik is indeed my oldest friend, the one who knows me best with the good, the bad, the ugly the pitiful and everything else.

"You really think so?"

"Duh, you are a petite, really fit ginger with a pretty face and beautiful jade-coloured eyes. Sure, you mostly look like a twelve-year-old boy, mainly when your hair is tangled and you wear an oversized hoodie, but today I have been working my magic and you look hot. Breathe, you are gorgeous and the world can suck it. Now go find some shoes."

I take yet another deep breath and do quite so. There is only a pair of black-heeled sandals that belonged to my mom. Why not... Like this, there is something of hers with em too. I smile and put them on.

"Olala!" Malik gasps. 

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, never mind me. I put your stuff into the clutch. Fiona told me that James, the s of a b that he is, spent your rent money on drugs."

"Yeah, and I had to humiliate myself and ask her for a loan."

"I am sure she does not mind but, don't you think sometimes that this relationship is more pain than gain? I mean even if he loves you he keeps slapping you in the face with his behavior."

"Yeah, man, but love should be for the better and for the worse, shouldn't it?"

"When was the last time you had a moment of the better ones?"

"Come on."

"Ok, whatever, but you should give it a thought. Now go. Actually, I will drive you."

I give him a smile. Arriving there in a ricksha will be something.

The famous graduation party is at Shoreditch Town Hall this year and it looks fabulous. The atmosphere reminds me a bit of that bar from two nights ago and I assume the people here and there move in the same circles. 

Fiona is waiting for me at the entry with a champagne glass in hand. 

"I am so happy you came. I was starting to feel awkward and thought about leaving."

"No. Now that I am here, we stay. Where are the food and the booze?"

From that point of view, it is a great idea to attend. I usually cook and what I do is edible but it was never a passion of mine, more like a necessity. But right now, when the biscuit and shrimp melt on my tongue, I notice I have never tasted really good food before. Not quite like this. 

 Two glasses of champagne and one of whisky later the world doesn't seem so horrible anymore or at least the misery is on stand-by. 

"I think you should tell James you don't agree with his behaviour," says Fiona. 

"Oh, I did. His answer was: screw you, I do what I want."

"Hey, girls, happy graduation! Fiona, I hope you overcame your hangover. Natalie, how did you get in? This is a private party." Mia is giving me a sticky sweet smile. Such a basic mean girl.   

I breathe in. Sticks and stone. Words will never hurt me. 

"By the way, Fiona, Liam said that five beers made you look okay, but then when he touched you, it felt like jelly pudding."

Ok. But this. The fine champagne glass splinters in my hand. 

"Oh my God, what's wrong with you, savage? Stay away from me, or I will get ghetto fever."

"Mia? I am very fast," I whisper and calculate in my mind who many seconds it will take me to plant the remnants of the glas somewhere where it hurts."

"Stay away from me! You are out of your mind!" He looks weirded out and a bit frightened. Good. 

"Nate," whispers Fiona, grabbing my arm. "It's not worth it."

"Being expelled for carving her face up for saying that? Difficult deiccition. Very tempting."

"Thank you for defending me but no it's not. She would win if you were expelled. I prefer her to see you thrive and be an enviour because despite your upbringing you are just better than her. Money cannot buy a good heart or talent for the matter and she should choke on it. I will get us another drink!"

"Didn't this drink qualify as angels' tears so it got this reaction, Natalia?"

What the not-so-metaphorical hell? I am frozen in place and he steps in front of me. The guy from the bar, still ridiculously good-looking and even more polished today in a three-piece suit that reminds of dark blue tempest. And he is saying my name. He is saying my name but not how all British people are saying it, he is doing it with a similar inflexion to my mother's. 

"How do you know my name?" I mutter. 

"From your ID..." he answers simply. "That I hope did reach you."

I nod. 

"Good. Are you okay? You seemed way more opinionated at the bar."

"Oh yeah, I am great."

"Are you sure?" He looks at me with those unearthly eyes. 

"Yeah, why do you ask?" And why I am having a conversation with you? Why are you here? Who the hell are you?

"Because when my knuckles look like that, it's unusually an indicator for the opposite of great."

Oh. Yeah. My hands are still red and scratched. 

"It's fine, I was just a bit... frustrated and trained a bit too hard to relieve that."

"Cool. Do you do that often?"

"No, only when I am really annoyed."

"I mean the training, not the injuries? And what do you actually practice?"

"Yeah, a lot. MMA, every week at least once. I am an instructor," I say almost proudly. 

"Really?" His eyebrows shoot up and he moves one hand through his brown locks, smiling with his whole face. Fuck, he is probably the, objectively, most handsome guy I have ever seen. 

"I was really wondering how it can be safe for such a small creature to live where you live. Turns out you might be small but not at all fragile." 

"Nope, not at all." I return his very contagious smile. "I am really good."

"Really good? Care to show me?"

"Excuse me?" I am the one whose eyebrows shoot up now. 

"Come one. I am pretty bored," he says and grabs my wrist. I feel struck by lightning but don't do anything to oppose him leading me to an otherwise empty room. 

"Let me think," he says and takes his jacket off. "If you touch my face in less than five minutes, you win."

"What exactly do I win?" I smile. This is fun. Or I might be drunk. Or both. 

"What do you want?"

"Honestly? At this point in my life? Cash." 

"Fine. A friendly bet of five thousand pounds?"

I thought five, if I had those even.

"If I had that money..." I laugh. 

"I am talking about me. If I win, I want something different. Certainly not money. I will still have to think about it though."

"Sure, whatever you want as long as it's not money, because I don't have any." 

Relaxed, I hop on a table and take my shoes off. 

"Ok, I am ready to go. Sir, I ask you again, are you serious? You have to promise you will not sue me if I bruise your pretty face."

He grins, not sure about what part of what I said but, gosh that's a million-dollar smile. 

"On my gentleman's honour." He puts a hand over his heart and bows his head slightly. And he doesn't seem at all uptight.

"Ok. Ready?"

"Always!" he answers smiling very confidently.

Oh shit, I notice, I drank too much and this guy is freaking good. He moves better than most of the opponents I had in a ring and if he were to land a hit I know that would hurt as hell. 

I am very slim and quick, these are my advantages, but fuck he is built like a giant with the grace of some prey cat. 

Think! Damn this dress, as pretty as it might be. I don't want to lose.

And then I see it. He is supposed to look at my body way more than he is. He is somehow avoiding it.  

Hmm, might be nasty but... I swing the skirt up till it reaches my upper thighs and he is indeed surprised and his eyes move down while my hand moves up. I jump closer, swiping minimally my fingers over his left cheek. 

I flash him a triumphant grin, but in a matter of seconds, one hand of his grabs the wrist of the treacherous arm and the other arm coils around my waist, pulling me towards him. 

Shit. Both my arms are now immobilized behind my back and my feet don't even touch the ground anymore. 

The natural reaction would have been to counter with a hit, but...  fuck, he is so close, and it feels like a tight embrace, and he smells so good, and his face is right in front of me, so close I feel his breath on my skin. 

Jesus, his eyes look like made of liquid diamonds and his lips...

I could... And my body moves on its own letting my mouth fall onto his. 

And It feels like thunder: beautiful, all-encompassing and terrifying. 

________________________________________

People make mistakes. This was not nice.
Or what do you think ?