Queenie(63)

“I didn’t mean for it to go on as long as it did, and I really do like her, but the sex is so . . . You know, she’s not like you. And I know that your name is uncommon, but I didn’t think that the Queenie Cass spoke about could be you—”

As Guy rambled, I charged into the living room and gathered up his clothes and shoes. “Are you really standing here telling me about your fucking motives, like I’ll give a shit? Get the fuck out!” I threw it all at him with force and watched as he got dressed slowly. “Fucking faster!” I shouted as he gathered up what was left to put on and walked out the door without looking back at me.

I paced the living room, my head throbbing. My legs started to shake, so I sat down; then the room started to spin, so I stood back up. What was happening? How and why was my world spinning off its axis at such an alarming rate? I couldn’t breathe in. I left the house and walked toward the main road. I could see Cassandra walking ahead and ran to catch up with her. When I was close enough to touch her, I reached out and grabbed her hand. She turned to look at me, mascara and snot running down her face, and sped up.

“We don’t have sex, Queenie. We don’t have sex because he says he’s too tired from shifts and we don’t talk about not having sex because he gets cagey, and look! I break my back to please him, and all you need to do to get his attention is suck his dick.”

I speed-walked beside her, trying to catch my breath. “But, Cassandra . . . it’s not my fault . . . I didn’t know—please can you stop or slow down?” She sped up. “Why are you trying so hard to please him?” I asked her. “Look what he’s been doing.”

“Do you know what? I love him, Queenie, not that you know what that is. I try to work things out, not push away.” Cassandra twisted the knife with her words. “And not all of us want to act like teenagers. Some of us want to move forward with someone, Queenie. Some of us want to grow up.” Cassandra stopped and turned to look at me. She was shaking.

“And unlike you, some of us don’t let the past dictate the way we live our adult lives.” She carried on down the road, and I stood and watched her walk away. When I got back home, my phone lit up.

THE CORGIS

CASSANDRA HAS LEFT THE CORGIS

Darcy

Where’s Cassandra gone?



Queenie

Turns out Welshman is CASSANDRA’S ACTUAL BOYFRIEND. WHEN SHE WOULD SAY “MY GORGEOUS GUY” IT’S BECAUSE HE IS LITERALLY CALLED GUY, AS IN THE GUY I WAS BANGING



Kyazike

Raaaaah



Queenie

The whole time we were sleeping together



Darcy

Shit. Small world, isn’t it?



Queenie

I actually did some quick math and I think I started sleeping with him before they met



Queenie

Don’t ever tell her that though



Kyazike

LOL we ain’t telling her nothing



Kyazike

And don’t worry, fam, I’ll back you if she comes to fight you



Darcy

Don’t worry, it won’t come to that! She’ll realize that it’s his fault, not yours



Queenie

Oh God oh God oh God oh God





chapter


NINETEEN


Queenie

It’s been three weeks and you still aren’t speaking to me, Cassandra. I don’t know what to do. You know how sorry I am. XXXX



I ROLLED OVER in bed and pressed SEND, holding my breath as I watched the blue iMessage bubble turn green. Either her phone was still off, or she’d blocked my number.

I couldn’t lose anyone else in my life. I’d tried reaching out to her via every form of communication bar fax and telegram, but nothing. Kyazike suggested she go round there to “talk to her on a level,” which I’m trying to figure out is a threat or not, and Darcy thinks that I should give her space and time to process everything.

Did I do something wrong? I’m the one who was a side chick, I’m the one who was nothing but some sort of sex person to yet another man who didn’t think I was deserving of anything but hard sex.

I guess I don’t matter. Not to Cassandra, not to Guy, not to anyone. My mum, my dad, Ted. Tom. Nobody has ever wanted me, not properly.

I rolled out of bed and pulled on the nearest outfit without looking at what it was, beyond obviously checking that it was long enough to cover my bum. I walked down the stairs, passing Nell in the hallway. She stared at me, asking if I was okay just as I got to the front door. I mumbled that I was fine and left the house, striding purposefully toward the bus stop until I realized that I (again) wasn’t wearing a bra, so slowed down. Why did I always forget this crucial item when getting dressed? As the bus moved along, I drafted a monologue in my head, jotting very key points down in my phone.

As the bus approached my stop, I looked out the window and saw rain hitting the glass. Deciding that I needed to get on with what I’d come to do rather than just go round on the bus until the weather got better, I stepped off as it started to pour, then did some sort of shuffle-running, arriving on the doorstep of mine and Tom’s old building drenched through to my bones.

I took some deep breaths and rang the doorbell, wiping rain off my face and observing my reflection in the glass pane. I realized that my headscarf was still on, soaked through. I whipped it off just as a petite blond girl I thought I recognized opened the door. She must have been a neighbor I’d seen in the short time I’d lived here. Her hair was up in a loose bun and she was wearing nothing but a black T-shirt that reached her knees. As she stepped back from the door, her pert breasts shook with the motion, her nipples almost pointing to the sky. I crossed my arms in order to cover my comparatively heavy bosom.