Page 70 of People Change

‘It’s nice, though, isn’t it, being older? Like, in our early-to-mid-twenties I felt like I had no idea what I was doing. I was bashing away at what I thought I should be doing, but it feels a lot calmer now,’ Shirin says.

Millie nods thoughtfully. ‘True, yes.’

Hana is pouring herself a glass of red wine, her back to the group, when she says, ‘God, uni was fun, though, wasn’t it?’

Shirin smiles – because while Hana still reminisces about university, there has been a marked change in the past year. It is no longer romanticised as the best period of their lives. It was only a segment. The best is possibly yet to come.

‘Shirin, do you remember at uni when you freaked out because a psychic said you had a third eye, and you thought that meant you had powers?’ Jasper laughs. ‘Any time you were high, you’d give predictions about what would happen in our future.’

‘How could I forget?’ she says absent-mindedly. She steals another glance at Kian, who at that moment looks back at her. He holds her gaze for a moment before they both look away. Her heart begins to beat more speedily.

‘I’m just going to the loo,’ she says, leaving the group.

She joins the short bathroom queue, leans her back against the wall and breathes out deeply.In-out, in-out, in-out. She is much more grounded now, but despite all this, Kian arriving – again unpredictably – has shaken her up. She has had so much time to think about what she wants, has imagined this moment many times, but when it is presented to her, she does not know what to do.

‘You alright?’

She starts at this. Opens her eyes to find Kian next to her.

‘Yes, fine,’ she says. Something about him being so close to her breaks the façade she has kept up all night, of pretending that he is exactly like everyone else in the room. She lets out a held breath.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asks. Someone leaves the bathroom and it is her turn. ‘You can go,’ she says to the person behind them – a friend of Millie’s that she does not know very well.

Kian scratches his neck, and she notices he is wearing her old hair-bobble around his wrist. She averts her gaze quickly,but she notices him noticing her noticing it. He looks like he finds the fact amusing for a second, before shaking his head.

‘My residency ended,’ he says.

A lot has happened in the past year, though it doesn’t feel as though a year has passed since they last saw each other.

‘I know that,’ she says. ‘I just wasn’t expecting you to be here. I always thought you were more Henry’s friend than Millie’s.’

They have not spoken properly in months. Not intentionally – at least that is what Shirin tells people. She thought it was self-sabotage, really, to continue talking to someone you have feelings for but with whom it can never work because of the miles between them.

‘Yeah, well. There was a reason I wanted to come tonight.’ He squints down at her, his eyes a deep brown. He has grown a well-groomed beard and it makes him look much older, but also softer somehow. He then bites his bottom lip, ever so briefly, as though considering his next words carefully. ‘Do you want to go for a smoke?’

She nods and they go outside together.

Millie and Tommy’s flat, like many in London, does not have a garden or a balcony, so they sit on the steps in front of the converted house. The winter air is sharp. Ahead of them, across the road, is a small patch of grass, cordoned off with high steel gates. They see a fox running, foraging in nearby bins for food, its body lean and its tail plump.

‘I feel sorry for foxes,’ she says, to fill the space. ‘They’re always starving.’

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘It’s shit.’

He lights up his cigarette and they are both avoiding each other’s gaze. It is as though once they look at each other, they will be laid bare – each fearful that what they are feeling will not be reciprocated.

‘Have you been following all the stuff about Iran and America?’ Shirin asks suddenly. It has been bothering her, but anyone she speaks to about it does not seem to care.

‘It’s fucked up,’ he says, shaking his head.

‘Did you see the memes? People joking online about it?’

He nods. ‘It pissed me off.’ He had a long Twitter argument with someone about it, in fact.

‘I’m glad it annoyed you, too. I feel like if you’re not Iranian, you don’t get it. People think it’s funny.’

There is a silence, then they both begin to speak at the same time, and that is when they turn to each other, lock eyes for the first time.

‘You go first,’ he says.