Page 69 of Break the Ice

I nod. I like how her intuition serves her so well. ‘You look angry.’

‘I know girls like that. They break up with nice boys but kinda bench them, keep them in the picture just in case it doesn’t work out with the new guy and then run back to the nice guy when it all goes tits up,’ she says.

‘Is tits up a good thing or a bad thing, I never know?’ I ask.

‘It’s bad, Joshua, but I get your point,’ she says, laughing. ‘I just think it’s a little manipulative, bordering on cruel, when people do that. You’re worth more than just being on the bench. I’m angry that she treated you that way. I’m angry that on New Year’s Eve, which should be full of celebration and hope, you’ll have to be in the same room as her.’

I hadn’t thought that far ahead really. I assumed as it was a party that I could just avoid her. I’d show my face for a while and, if needs be, I’d escape to another part of the hotel if things got tough.

There is a large patch of ice on the path and we part to tiptoe across it, Phoebe’s hand still firmly in mine. She catches my hand as my foot goes through the sheet of ice with a loud if satisfying crunch. ‘Gotcha,’ she says, laughing, as I cling on to her shoulders and pull myself up. I see that Steve is looking up at us.

‘Don’t go to the party,’ she almost pleads with me. ‘New York is so big and fun. Go grab a hot dog and sit on the Staten Island ferry.’

‘You really have quite a curated version of what my home city looks like, eh?’ I say, trying to mask all the emotion beneath. I look at the kindness in her eyes, real genuine emotion to let me know she’s on my side and wants to get me back on my feet.

‘Thank you. Honestly.’

‘Is there anything I can do?’ she says, the winter light hitting her face at wonderful angles, all that warmth from her still shining through. ‘Apart from stand here and badmouth Avery? I could troll her, be a real nuisance on her social media? I can get you another coffee. You need a hug, slugger?’ she adds, punching my arm.

I smile. It is strange, I think, that I’ve never discussed Avery breaking my heart in much detail, with anyone really. And yet here I am with this wild-haired Brit I’ve recently spent Christmas with, pouring out the details of my personal life. I love how she responds with such loyalty even though she doesn’t really know me too well. I don’t think my own family have done that much. If only I could bring you to New York with me. Like some lucky mascot. If only⁠—

I stop.

‘Hey,’ I say nervously. ‘You know when I first gave you that lift to Devon and you said you’d repay me in whatever way I wanted.’

Phoebe narrows her eyes at me. ‘Yeah, I paid you. But I could do other stuff.’ I like how she says that so casually. I feel a surge of emotion rise in me. This might totally be the wrong thing to do but there is something that feels right about asking her, about extending whatever Christmas chaos we’ve started together. She’s the perfect person for this favour. ‘What are you doing on New Year’s Eve, Phoebe? Fancy a quick trip to New York?’

A big smile creeps across her face. ‘What? Are you serious?’ she replies, looking at me, clearly waiting for the punchline.

‘Why not? If you’re free? I think it could be fun. I’ll get you into the party. You can be my wingman.’

‘For real?’

‘Yeah,’ I say, still a bit shocked that this plan has come to me so suddenly. She turns to high-five me enthusiastically and I reluctantly reciprocate. ‘Can you find someone to look after Steve?’ I ask.

‘Dude, he’s not even my dog.’

I laugh. Steve looks up at us. ‘I’ll take you up the Empire State.’

She laughs loudly. ‘I believe we’ve done that already.’

I blush intensely, looking around worried that someone heard that. ‘Phoebe!’ I whisper, but I’m laughing. I take a deep cleansing breath. ‘But would you consider it? Come over to New York. Be a decoy date?’

She pauses for a moment, then grins, all of her teeth on show. ‘I’m in,’ she says, turning to face me and taking both of my hands, bouncing them up and down, an air of mischief filling her eyes. ‘I’m so fucking in, Joshua. Let’s do this.’

THIRTY-THREE

PHOEBE

New York, 29 December

‘You’re where?’

‘Don’t freak out.’

‘Seriously? New York. The city? In America?’ Norah says, with a very maternally cross tone in her voice. I think she sometimes forgets that I’m an adult with free will and a passport.

‘Yeah. Look, we spent Christmas with the guy. He seems nice. I owe him.’