Karla: Shut up.

Lee: Don’t be jealous. If you wanted the girls, I bet you could get the girls.

Karla: I don’t want the girls.

Lee: Too bad. There’s got to be some serious amount of licence lickers in your line of work.

Karla: That’s a stereotype.

Lee: What about the sour-faced old bird who was at the warehouse the other week? Now there’s a high wall built to hold back water if I ever saw one.

Oh, my God, was he talking about DI Jennings? It took me a second to get what he was saying and then I burst out laughing, both at his wording and how he described her. She was sour-faced, always looking like she’d just tasted something rotten.

Karla: She’s my superior, and I have no clue about her sexual orientation. I’ve got to go to work now. Talk later.

Lee: Later, Snap.

The next day I got a message with a picture attached. It showed Lee making a kissy duck face into the camera, the gym in the background. I chuckled when I saw it before reading the text below.

Lee: Workin on my selfie skills. What ya think?

Karla: I think it’s disturbing.

Lee: Whaaa? Where am I going wrong?

Karla: Try to look less like an aquatic bird.

Lee: Okay, how’s this?

He’d attached another picture, this time with him grin/smirking, his T-shirt plastered to him with sweat. God, he looked good, and had obviously been working out. Without thinking, I saved the picture to my phone, trying not to delve too deeply into why.

Karla: Better.

Lee: Your turn :-D

Karla: Fat chance.

Lee: Oh, go on. I miss your face.

I paused, my finger on the screen as his words sunk in. My tummy fizzled with a bubbly sensation. In a way, I’d have liked to send him a picture in return, but it was dodgy territory. Texting him at all was dodgy territory, but I needed it. It was the least form of communication we could have, and I wasn’t ready to give it up yet. Unable to deal with his sweet statement, I tried to change the subject.

Karla: Why are you texting me at the gym? Get back to working out, lazy bones.

Lee: Just finished sparring with a few of the boys. Not the same as doing it with you, of course ;-)

I ignored the innuendo, even though it made me flush slightly.

Karla: You know, I never asked. Do you box professionally?

Lee: Nah, just to keep fit. I’m a lover not a fighter.

Karla: Haha. Do you do any other sports?

I asked because I wanted him to tell me about the parkour. Having seen him in action, I could tell he’d clearly spent a lot of time honing his technique, but he never mentioned it in conversation. It was almost like he didn’t want people to know how good he was.

Lee: This and that. Gotta go shower now. Talk later.

Huh. I couldn’t tell if he was being evasive or if he really just had to shower. Either way, I obviously wasn’t going to get what I wanted.

Karla: Okay. Talk later.

***

“Me, Ingrid, and Gina are going out tonight,” said Reya as we left the gym on a Saturday afternoon. “You should come. Let your hair down.”

Ingrid and Gina were her friends from the Royal Academy of Music, where Reya was doing her degree. I mostly tended to spend time with her away from her usual social circle, because they were all a little too young for me. Reya was different. We connected on a level that transcended age, but her friends? They spent a lot of time talking about celebrities or the latest Facebook scandal, and I didn’t have the patience for that shite.

“I don’t know. I was planning on a marathon of Heroes with Alexis.”

“You can do that anytime! And Alexis should come, too. It’ll be fun.”

I knew for a fact that my best friend wouldn’t want to go out. One, because she was still mourning after King, and two, because she was pregnant and couldn’t drink. Every time I tried to have a glass of wine around her, she’d put on this sad puppy face, making me feel guilty that she couldn’t enjoy one, too.

“Okay, let me think about it,” I said, and Reya threw her arm around my shoulders, smiling widely. She knew she’d won.

Later that evening, I changed into a black bodycon dress and heels. I left my hair down with a slight curl, and I’d gone a little heavier on the makeup than usual. If I knew Reya and her friends, I was betting I’d get dragged to either a hipster music bar or a rock club, and I wanted to look the part.

We were having some crazy weather of late, heavy rain and random thunderstorms, which meant the electricity kept cutting out. I’d been halfway through styling my hair when the flat went dark and I heard Alexis swear loudly from her bedroom.

“Bloody hell! Now I’m going to miss the end of Coronation Street,” she moaned, and I tried not to laugh.

“You can catch the repeat when they show the Omnibus,” I called to her.

“This was the Omnibus!” she shouted back. “Now I’ll never know what happens.”

A second later, the lights came back on and Alexis let out a hoot of triumph. I shook my head and finished doing my hair. Once I was ready, I called a cab so I could go meet Reya & Co. I was sitting in the back seat when my phone lit up with a message.

Lee: Could you see the lightning at your place?

Karla: No, I missed it :-(

Lee: It was HUGE.

I chuckled.

Karla: Oh, really? Tell me more.

Lee: Dirty girl.

Karla: Can’t talk now. I’m on my way out.

Lee: Anywhere fancy?

Karla: Just meeting a friend at a club called The Evil Beetle. Don’t ask.

Lee: I know the place. Didn’t take you for a Goth.

Karla: It wasn’t my choice. My friend’s a music student. Pretentious muso clubs come with the territory.

Lee: Ah, got ya. Have a fun night. Xxx.

Karla: You too :-)

I stared at his last message, frowning. After two weeks of correspondence, this was the first time he’d sent me kisses. They made my throat feel weird and scratchy, and the fact of the matter was, I missed him. I wanted to see him in person, because although I enjoyed talking to him through texts, it was no substitute for how he made me feel in person. How his eyes followed my every movement and how his closeness gave me tingles.

Thankfully, I didn’t have too much time to ponder this further, as the taxi stopped outside the club. I paid the driver, got out, and walked down the line, searching for Reya. I found her about midway down, wearing a purple hippy dress under a long navy coat. Her friend Ingrid was blonde and wore a lot of eye-liner, while her other friend, Gina, had a pixie haircut and wore a number of studded belts around the waist of her skinny jeans. I felt slightly overdressed, but I wasn’t too bothered about it.

The four of us made small talk until we reached the door and were immediately let through by the bouncer. Heavy rock music blared as a DJ with blue dreads spun the decks. I went straight to the bar, ordering in a round of drinks for everyone. I wasn’t exactly flash with the cash, but since I was with three starving students, I decided to be generous.

Not surprisingly, Gina and Ingrid nodded eagerly when I asked them if they wanted a drink. We found a table in a dark corner where it was just about impossible to carry out a conversation, but we gave it a go anyway. At this rate, I was going to have tinnitus by morning.

An hour or so went by, during which I’d had three more drinks. We were currently on the dance floor, dancing to Guns n Roses’ “Night Train.” Reya grabbed my hands and swayed with me to the music, while her friends screamed the lyrics, knowing every word. It was as my eyes travelled over the sea of heads surrounding me that I thought I recognised a familiar one. The guy disappeared, and I shook it off.

Lee wouldn’t come here, would he?

There was a brief second of quiet between one song and the next when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.