Chapter 4

No birdsong greeted Adam the next morning, just a tinny radio playing pop music which hurt his ears. He struggled to open his eyes and then wished he hadn’t as they were assaulted by gloomy autumnal light. A marching band kept time in his head and his mouth and throat were filled with sawdust flavoured cotton wool.

He groaned, rubbed his head and sat up. It slowly dawned on him that this wasn’t his room. The bed was in the wrong place and the walls were bare. Then he remembered he’d moved into a student flat and hadn’t put any posters up yet. But something still didn’t feel right.

The door opened and Kim entered. “Morning sleepy. I made you some coffee.” She was wearing his shirt like a nightgown. It looked better on her than he could ever have hoped it would on him.

Adam realised where he was.

“Oh, my God.” He searched his foggy brain for the right memory. He couldn’t find it. “Kim...? Last night...? Did we...?”

She sat on the bed and nodded. “Three times. Don’t you remember? God, it was good. I can’t believe you can’t remember.”

“Three times?”

“Yep. It was really quick the first time—I think we were both over-excited. But the second time was amazing—I’ve never come like that before. And the third was really lovely too—slow, sweet and gentle. You don’t half have some stamina, you know.”

“Three times?” Adam shook his head. “Seriously? But I didn’t have any condoms on me.”

“It’s okay. I’m safe. And clean.”

“How do you know I am?”

“I trust you.” She handed him a mug of steaming coffee. “I didn’t know how you took it, so I left it black, but made it sweet—like you. I hope that’s okay.”

“Thanks, it’ll do just fine.” He sipped the drink. “Hey, what time is it?”

“Quarter past eight.”

“Shit!” Adam swung his legs off the bed and began to stand up. Then he realised he was naked and stayed where he was. “Could you pass my boxers please?”

“It’s okay. It’s nothing I haven’t already seen. I got up close and personal with it last night.”

Adam smiled awkwardly—it was more like a grimace—and nodded towards his pile of clothes on the chair across the room. Kim stood and retrieved his clothes. “What’s so urgent?”

“We have a lecture at nine. Or had you forgotten?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten.”

“I need to go back to my flat and get changed, have a shower—you know, all that morning shit.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you at the lecture then.”

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Adam raced back to his flat and opened the door as quietly as he could. He hoped his flatmates were still asleep because he didn’t think he could face any questions. He crept to his room and looked at his watch. It read half-past eight. If he was lucky, he might just make it. He undressed, wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for the shower. But the bathroom door was locked. He rattled the handle in frustration.

“Who’s there?” It was Cassie.

“It’s me.”

“Who? I can’t hear very well over the water.”

“Adam!”

“Oh. So the dirty stop-out has returned to clean up.” She chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t take long.”

Adam traipsed back to his room. So much for not having to face any questions. Of all his flatmates, Cassie had been the one he least wanted to run into. He stared at his bed. It was so inviting. He made a decision. His head still thumped and he felt a little sick—and not just from the alcohol. He pulled the towel from around his waist, put on his pyjamas and crawled into bed. He quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.