Just a Fan by Leen Elle, Emily Austen Page A

gave a moan. 'Hopeless tart desperate to forget, you mean,' I grumbled. 'This isn't me .'
     
    'Of course it's -' Kate began, but Julie interrupted her.
     
    'Ladies, please ,' she said, calming down the argument. 'I thought we were here for a laugh.'
     
    'I want my coat,' I mumbled, halfway through the pint. 'It's December , for crying out loud. Not the weather for strappy tops and heels.'
     
    'She'll get over it,' sighed Kate to Julie, who shook her head wearily.
     
    The world gradually grew muzzier and muzzier until I found it hard to co-ordinate my movements. Julie and Kate quietly seemed to note this, and paid for the drinks before helping me into my coat and out of the pub.
     
    Strangely enough, even though everything was warm and fuzzy around me, the depressed state I was in had only been worsened. All the way home, I burbled on about Connor, telling them what a nice guy he was and how lovely he had been to me as they half-dragged, half-carried me to my apartment block. My heels wobbled on the pavement, which seemed to be moving beneath me, but luckily I had the ever-patient Julie and Kate for support.
     
    When we finally arrived at my flat, I was almost collapsing, but managed to convey to them my gratefulness.
     
    'Love you too, Lilly,' said Kate.
     
    'Here, we'll help you...' added Julie, and was about to assist me with my coat and shoes when I shook my head.
     
    'No, honestly, guys, it's OK,' I said. 'But thanks. You're so nice to me...I don't know what I'd do without you!'
     
    'Are you sure you'll be fine?' Julie asked me.
     
    'Yes,' I replied. 'I think I'll go to bed. Have an early night.'
     
    After I had sufficiently convinced them, they left me, promising to be there if I needed someone to talk to over the phone. I sighed, sitting down on the sofa in my too-quiet flat, and began to fumble with the coat buttons. After a lot of false starts and fiddling, I managed to take my coat off, but the shoes were a bit of a problem. I tugged uselessly at the straps, my fingers slipping. I gave a groan of frustration...I should have just stayed at home and not let Kate take me away to "drown my sorrows". The alcohol had only deepened my sorrows, and on top of all that I couldn't even get my bloody shoes off afterwards.
     
    I gave a sigh of defeat, flopping back down on the sofa. I felt faintly ill, but I was still grateful that my friends had made an effort to cheer me up. I was sure that some day, somehow, I would get past the memory of the famous man who had kissed me, perhaps even with their help. I almost found myself wondering what Connor was doing right now...it was approaching evening, so he would probably be already in America. Well, he could go, and see if I cared...I wasn't going to sit here waiting for his return like a brainless fangirl. I would carry on and live my life...
     
    * * *
    The next morning I woke up groggy and grumpy. I blearily opened my eyes to find myself lying wrapped in a duvet on the floor by the cupboard for no apparent reason. Painfully I rolled over, screwing my eyes up against the light coming through my window. Why wasn't I in bed? My head throbbed as I tried valiantly to remember. I think I faintly recalled tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep for the conflicting thoughts in my head about him , before rolling off the bed semi-conscious to curl up on the floor instead. My shoulder and hip ached slightly...
     
    I slowly sat up, then froze, squeezing my eyes shut as a wave of pain rushed through my head. What was it Julie had said? Alcohol dehydrates you, shrinking you brain just enough for it to pull on the skull lining and give you the king of all headaches...lovely.
     
    Grimacing, I managed to weakly and unsteadily get to my feet, still with my duvet wrapped around my body like a bulky sleeping bag. I staggered over to the window, shutting the curtains and blocking out the light. Once the dark was restored, I felt marginally less terrible.
     
    With small steps, I