The Happening

The Happening I wake with the cold, tight-headed, empty sense of an impending family day. Annual leave is precious and it galls me to waste any of it with cousins' brats, my foul auntie and my mother's inevitable tears after a few glasses of Asti Spumante. There's an unpleasant and unfamiliar odour in the bed beside me. Rolling onto my back, I feel too warm. The side of my thigh suddenly touches flesh, the slight …

…suddenly looks extremely perplexed. Don't let him ask if he can stay, please. 'One thing. I have to say it. I'm sorry.' Dread renders me incapable of responding. 'It's just... I would have preferred if it had just been you and me, you know, not the three of us. I only joined in because you asked me to. I don't usually go with guys. You won't think any less of me, will you?'