‘Jess … from the Pride Soc stall? She’s in it too?’
‘Yup. Viola, so she wasn’t there today. But we pretty much do everything together.’
I thought that was a cute thing to say, but I was struggling to feel any positive emotions about literally anything, so I just tried to force a smile, which obviously failed.
‘You OK?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows.
I opened my mouth to say yes, I was absolutely fine, but I started hysterically laughing instead.
I think that was the closest thing I had to crying in front of someone else.
‘Oh no,’ said Sunil, eyes widening in alarm. ‘You’re definitely not OK.’
He waited for me to say something.
‘I’m fine,’ I said. If I was a doll, that would be one of my pre-recorded phrases.
‘Oh no.’ Sunil shook his head. ‘That was the worst lie I’ve ever heard in my life.’
That actually did make me laugh for real.
Sunil waited again to see if I was going to elaborate, but I didn’t.
‘You didn’t come to the Pride Soc Freshers’ Week club night,’ he continued, turning to me a little.
‘Oh, er, yeah.’ I shrugged weakly. ‘Er … club nights aren’t really my thing.’
I’d got the email about it, of course. It’d been two weeks ago. Pride Soc Welcomes You! Come Party with Your New Family of QUILTBAGs! I had to Google what QUILTBAG meant, but even while doing that, I knew I wouldn’t go. Even if I liked drinking and clubbing, I wouldn’t go. I didn’t belong. I didn’t know whether I was a QUILTBAG or not.
He nodded. ‘You know what? Same.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. Can’t stand alcohol. It gives me the shakes and I’m such a lightweight. I’d much rather have a queer film night or a queer tea party, you know?’
As he spoke, I glanced down at his jacket and found that he was wearing those badges again. I homed in on the one with the purple, black, grey and white stripes. God, I’d meant to look up what that meant. I really did want to know.
‘Speaking of Pride Soc,’ he said, gesturing at his tux, ‘I’m heading off to its autumn formal. The rest of the exec team are setting it up right now and I’m hoping there haven’t been any disasters.’
I didn’t know what possessed me to ask, but the next thing I said was, ‘Can I come?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You want to come along? You didn’t RSVP to the email.’
I’d received that email too. I hadn’t deleted it. I’d imagined quite vividly what it would be like to attend something like that, confidently a part of something.
‘I could … help set up?’ I suggested.
I liked Sunil. I really did. I wanted to hang out with him a little more.
I wanted to see what the Pride Soc was like.
And I wanted to forget about what had just happened with Jason.
He looked at me for a long moment, and then he smiled. ‘You know what? Why not. We could do with an extra person to help blow up balloons.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah!’
Suddenly I felt myself getting cold feet. I looked down at my overalls and woolly jumper. ‘I’m not dressed for a formal.’
‘No one gives a shit what you’re wearing, Georgia. This is the Pride Society.’
‘But you look sexy and I look like I just rolled up to a nine a.m. lecture.’
‘Sexy?’ He laughed like he had a private joke with the word, and then he stood up and held out a hand.
I didn’t know what else to do or say, so I took it.
Sunil held my hand all the way through Durham. In a slightly odd, but nonetheless comforting way, I felt like I was hanging out with one of my parents. I supposed, in a way, I was.
He didn’t seem to feel the need to talk. We just walked. Sometimes he would swing my hand. About halfway there, I wondered what I was doing. I wanted to be curled up in bed, reading the Jimmy/Rowan Spider-Man AU fanfic I’d started last night. I shouldn’t be at this formal. I didn’t deserve to be at this formal.
I needed to message Jason and explain.
I needed to explain what was wrong with me.
I needed to say sorry.
‘Here we are,’ said Sunil, smiling. We had reached a red door leading into one of Durham’s many old Dickensian buildings. I looked at the shop it was connected to.
‘Gregg’s?’
Sunil snorted. ‘Yes, Georgia. We’re having our society formal dinner at Gregg’s.’