Friday Night in Technicolour
Friday Night in Technicolour
Friday Night in Technicolour
The bass sounded tinny and a group of girls in the centre of the room bent over to take pictures, pushing their arses out like they had something stuck up them. A mini electric disco ball sat on the kitchen table, whipping light around the room at speed.
It had been thirty minutes and I’d given myself another five before calling an Uber. People stood in clumps and bobbed their heads to Katy Perry. I didn’t have a clump. Instead, I was standing with a boy I’d known in year eight P.E, famous for his misshapen nose and getting publicly pantsed on the school field in front of his crush. Me.
‘So…’, I said, a desperate final attempt, ‘Do you work?’
Alex leant back against the door, ‘Yeah for my Dad. Construction.’ His face lit up, ‘But I’m in a band now!’
I asked him what kind of music, hoping he’d sense from my face that I wanted his answer to be brief.
‘Drum and bass slash rock slash dream-pop. Played at some good venues too.’
Unexpected. I couldn’t help myself, ‘What do you play?’
‘The bassoon.’
I struggled to keep my wine down, ‘...The?’
‘It’s a woodwind instrument, part of the double reed family’, his face didn’t move and I realised he was being serious.
Making an excuse, I headed for the door. My coat was under a pile of bags and jackets at the bottom of the stairs which meant climbing over them and rummaging around. A voice like velvet made me freeze.
‘Eleanor Parkinson.’
I mouthed fuck and slowly turned around, in a compromising position with my behind in the air and my skirt hitched up a little too high, ‘Hello, Lou.’
His smile made my groin ache, ‘I see you haven’t changed.’
I could smell he was drinking whiskey. He obviously hadn’t changed either.
I meant to laugh off the situation but instead let out a strained uncomfortable noise that exposed me for who I really was: a self-aware nobody who regrets just about every social interaction I get myself into. This was about to be Number One.
Lou invited himself to stand with me out the front while I waited for my Uber. It was drizzly and cold. The rain collected lightly on the top of his hair, making a halo. Typical.
The music from inside was bleeding under the door and out of the window frames. He edged towards me and played with the tassels on my jacket. I pretended not to notice how close he was and kept my eyes on the app: Driver two minutes away.
‘So,’ he began, ‘I hear you’ve been in Italy. That’s cool.’
I hate small talk and hate it even more when it’s coming from him, ‘Why are we pretending this isn’t awkward?’
‘Is it?’, he smiled.
I checked the screen: Driver one minute away.
‘This is so like you,’ I said stepping away from him, ‘I didn’t think you’d be here.’
Lou caught my elbow, ‘Aren’t you glad I am?’
I looked him in the eyes, ‘I hate you.’
I felt cool. Then I kissed him and felt stupid. The Uber arrived and we left.
In the car, he rolled down the window. I looked over to him briefly and watched the wind push back his hair revealing an earring. That’s new. He turned to face me.
‘You’ve always loved staring at me.’
‘No, I haven’t.’
He smiled. I hate it when he thinks he’s right. I grabbed his collar and kissed him hard, then pushed him away. He leant in to kiss me again, but I stopped him.
‘I haven’t,’ I repeated.
‘Okay. You haven’t.’
We kissed noisily and I was aware the driver could probably hear us. Lou’s hand moved up the inside of my thigh and I thanked my lucky stars that I’d chosen sexy underwear over granny pants.
The car pulled up outside my apartment. I clambered out, slamming it with more force than I intended.
‘Cheers, man.’
I tilted my bag so that I could hear my keys jangle and walked up to the house, ‘I’m sharing with a new girl.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘Uptight. So we have to be quiet, okay?’
He smiled and rolled his eyes which was confusing because I felt like he didn’t believe me.
We walked through the kitchen. All the lights were off except for the extractor fan above the hob. I picked up a bottle of already-opened red wine.
‘Not for me thanks’, he said.
I wanted to ask why but I also wanted to sound mature.
‘Can I get you something else? Tea or coffee?’
‘No. I’ve cut out caffeine actually.’ Lou was looking at photos on the wall, ‘Hey, you took our photo down?’
I started walking to the bedroom, ‘Did I?’
He followed me, ‘Yeah the polaroid used to be there on the mirror.’
‘Oh yeah.’ I unzipped my skirt and put the bottle on the nightstand.
He smiled and started undressing, ‘What, because of Madison?’
‘I just didn’t want to have to look at your stupid face anymore,’ I lied.
He must’ve stripped down to his boxers in about ten seconds. I struggled with my tights.
‘I loved that photo.’
I thought love was a strong word to use for a blurry selfie taken at a New Year’s party three years ago.
‘Because you’re the only one who looks good in it,’ I said throwing my bra into the corner.
‘You looked good too.’
‘Still had my puppy fat.’
‘Yeah, you did.’ He laughed a little too hard, ‘never thought we would… you know.’
He gestured towards me and I suddenly felt naked.
‘What?’
‘Well… you know, you were never…’ Lou trailed off and crawled towards me on the bed. I guessed his kisses were an attempt to distract me.
‘No. Say it’, I pressed.
‘Well, I just meant now that you’re sexy, it’s funny.’
‘Funny?’
He rolled his eyes, ‘Funny to think we’re shagging.’
Are we?
I decided to walk around the bed to his side.
He spun around, ‘where are you going?’
‘I forgot to do something.’
I picked his clothes up off the floor and marched through to the kitchen.
‘What? Ellie – what are you-’ he followed me.
Dumping his stuff in the bin, I tied the bag up and carried it to the door.
‘Wait- what are you doing?’
I opened the front door and flung the bin bag down the garden. He ran after it barefoot on his tiptoes.
‘I’m taking out the trash.’
The door closed. It was done. It felt orgasmic.