Page 60 of Break the Ice

‘Are you decent? I’ve got more tea!’ Phoebe says, knocking but not waiting to hear if I’m decent or not. I could have been completely naked. Talking to my parents. But no, instead I seem to be dressed head to toe in her family’s clothes. Maybe there are no boundaries left, as I am wearing her father’s socks. And I guess she and I were very naked together yesterday. She storms in wearing her star-print pyjama bottoms and a hoodie and with her hair completely wild and freshly dried, bundled on top of her head. There’s not an ounce of make-up on her but a blush colour in her face and cheeks, a really beautiful glow, the really lovely way she doesn’t care for airs and graces.

She comes over, puts a tray of tea and cookies on the dresser and hands me a steaming mug. ‘You get warm? Did you manage to chat to your parents then?’

‘Yes and yes. And my folks send their best Christmas wishes,’ I say as she comes to sit next to me on the bed, and both of us lean against the headboard. From the mountains of clothes, and make-up and toiletries scattered across the dresser, I will assume this is her room for the night.

‘Well, that is sweet. I send them straight back. Even if you did try and drown me before,’ she says, snickering. I take a gulp of tea as she pulls a fleece blanket over her shoulders, shivering slightly.

‘You’re such a drama queen,’ I tell her. She rests her head on my shoulder and I feel my legs relax at having her close, the scent of her freshly washed hair, the way this feels so natural. ‘It wasn’t that cold.’

‘I went right under. I swear my eyes froze over for a millisecond,’ she says.

I put a mildly sympathetic arm around her as she tries to extract bodily warmth from me. Is this too close? She snuggles into me, wrapping a leg around mine, and I can’t lie, I feel that in places I shouldn’t. My phone, in between us, suddenly buzzes and I reach for it and hold it up.

Merry Christmas, Joshua xx

I look at it and wince slightly, like I’m in pain.

Phoebe studies my face and the phone. ‘Ooh, that was an ex face if ever I saw it.’ She laughs. She’s being incredibly nosey and looking at the screen. ‘Avery…’ She sits up and watches my body language, crossing her legs and getting comfy. ‘Is there a story there?’

Is there a story? It’s a very long story. I think I told you a bit when you were stone cold asleep in the car. ‘Ex-fiancée.’

‘Ooooooohhhh…’ she almost sings. ‘Joshua, you were engaged to be married? That’s so…’

‘Stupid?’

‘I was going to say young.’ She turns to look into my eyes, her expression full of sympathy. ‘I feel like this story is long and painful.’

‘It is.’ I don’t know if now is the time to tell her this story, but she gives me a hug. It doesn’t feel like pity, it feels infused with empathy, care, and I hug her back.

‘She ended it, yes?’ she says, still holding me.

‘How did you guess?’

We part and she sits next to me again, draping her legs over mine once more. ‘Well, I will assume you asked for her hand, and, from what I’ve learned about you in our brief time together, you stick things through. There’s an air of commitment about you.’

‘And you get all that because I helped you deliver a dog.’

‘Yes.’

I laugh, and I sense she likes having broken the tension of my emotions. ‘Know that because she ended it with you though, she now has a mortal enemy for life,’ she continues.

‘She does, does she?’

‘I don’t mix well with people who hurt my friends,’ she says plainly. ‘That Avery better watch her back.’

It feels surprising, warming, to hear someone stick up for me. Are we friends? I’m glad the last twenty-four hours have turned us into some version of that at least.

‘I hope she gave the ring back,’ Phoebe continues.

‘She Fed Ex’ed it…’ I whisper.

‘BITCH!’

I put a finger to my lips, laughing nervously, because there are children in the house.

‘Gimme that phone, I’m going to tell her to stick her Merry Christmas up her fanny.’

‘Or not,’ I say.