Oh, you wont believe this story about me and my best mate, Emily. Weve been tight as thieves since secondary schoolwell, Year 7, to be exact, when she moved into our neighbourhood. Back then, I didnt really have any close mates in class. Most of the girls flocked around the schools golden girl, Lucy Mallory, whose dad was some big-shot professor. The rest of us, me included, just kept to ourselves.
I never bowed down to Lucy, but I didnt pick fights eitherjust stayed neutral. While her little gang sized up the new girl, digging into who her parents were, I took Emily under my wing. Gave her the lowdown on Lucy and her cronies, of course.
*»Why are you always on your own? Rebelling or something?»* Emily asked me once.
*»Nah, just like my own company. Its nice. But if youd rather hang with them, no hard feelings.»*
She chose me. And just like that, we became a duo. Not bullied, just overlooked. I showed her the ropesteachers, classmates, the whole school drama. Fun fact: Lucy, the professors daughter? Ended up working retail. Saw her once in a posh boutique. She pretended not to know me.
Emily was cleversmarter than me, prettier too, or so I thought. Teenage insecurities, right? I felt like a lumpy messtoo curvy, too short, frizzy hair. A proper ugly duckling. Meanwhile, Emily had this sleek blonde hair, blue eyes, legs for days. Years later, she confessed shed actually envied *me* back then.
We were inseparable. Even planned to go to the same unitill her mum pushed her toward economics, while I was dead set on medicine. Not just any doctora surgeon. We rowed about it, didnt speak for three days. Made up, obviously. Couldnt stay mad. Ended up at different unis, saw less of each other, but when we did? Couldnt shut up.
Second year, she fell hard for some bloke on her course. Wouldnt stop gushing. Me? Too busy drowning in Latin and anatomy. By third year, she had an abortionparents never knew. Then fourth year, pregnant again. I hated the guy, begged her not to marry him. She wouldnt listen. Her parents made sure she wasnt a single mum.
Sixth year, I ditched surgery for gastroenterologyless stress. Didnt see Emily for ages, then bumped into her in town. Shed put on weight, looked pregnant again (didnt ask). Pushing a pram with a little girl in head-to-toe pink. Caught me eyeing her belly and laughed: *»Husband wants a boy.»*
She was shocked I was still single. Then admitted shed envied me at school, thought *she* was the plain onerushed into marriage out of fear no one else would want her. Bloody daft. We promised to stay in touch.
A year after her son was born, her husband left. Called her a *»fat cow,»* said shed trapped him with kids. She was a wreckmessy ponytail, dead eyes. I told her straight: *»Youve let yourself go.»*
*»Easy for youstill pretty, still single,»* she snapped. Not even mad.
Her kids grew upher boy started school, her girl fancied lads. I had flings, never married. No big deal. Saw Emily now and then, but life got busy.
Then, a work conference in London. Spotted this blokeOliver. Stayed next door. You know when you just *know*? We even shared a table at dinner. Mentioned my city, and he said his mate ran a new clinic thereasked if I knew it.
*»Heard of it,»* I said.
*»Think I should take the job?»*
*»Your call.»*
Last night, drinks at the hotel. Lost track of time. Nearly missed my train. He got pulled away*typical*. Left without saying goodbye. Figured he liked me too, but no phone number? Maybe married. Or just useless. Oh well.
Two months later, Emily rang, giddy: *»Come over!»*
*»Whats happened? You sound chuffed.»*
*»Just wait.»*
Brought sweets, ice cream, wine. She was glowingnew haircut, lighter.
*»Youve met someone,»* I guessed.
*»Oh, hes *perfect*,»* she sighed. Described himand all I saw was Oliver.
*»Works at the new clinic»*
*»Waityoure at a bank?»*
*»Left ages ago. Better pay here. Anyway, he carried my laptop home, I made him tea»*
*»And?»*
*»Nothing yet. But soon.»*
*»So nothings happened? Whats his name?»* (Already knew.)
*»Oliver. Oliver Grant.»*
Felt like icy water dumped on me. Fates a cruel joker. Emily babbled onhow kind, how *dreamy*, planning to invite him to her birthday
*»And hes single? Odd for a catch like that. Maybe somethings off?»*
She rolled her eyes. *»Youre just jealous. WatchIll marry him.»*
Devastated. Still, hoped it was a fluke. Said I was happy for her, then bolted.
Her birthday party. Saw him. He *lit up* seeing me. Emily glared.
*»Took the job. Thought of youtheres an opening at the clinic,»* he said.
*»Ill think.»*
Emily dragged him off. I slipped out. Not fighting over a bloke.
He chased me down. *»Whyd you leave?»*
*»You know Emilys my best mate? And shes mad about you.»*
*»Theres nothing there. I only brought her home once. Came tonight hoping to see *you*. Moved here for you.»*
Walked me home. Still no number ask. Got homemissed calls from Emily. Rang back, she shrieked: *»You *snake*! Stealing him!»*
*»We met at the conference! Hes just new here»*
Fought like schoolgirls. Then she whispered: *»Let me have him. Youll find someone. This might be my last chance.»*
*»Em, if hes chasing me, he doesnt want *you*.»*
*»Not your business. Just *back off*.»*
Talked to Oliver later. He sighed. *»This is messy. Emilys your friendmaybe we shouldnt.»*
*»Exactly.»*
A week later, Emily showed up. *»We talked. He likes *you*. I was just hurt. But I wont sabotage you.»*
Hugged, cried, drank wine. Made up.
Oliver and I got together. Two months later, he proposed. Emily came to the weddingwith a date.
Got pregnant straight off. No point waiting. Emily coached me through the panic.
Still best mates. No rivalry, no hate. We both won. Funny, innit? They say friendship dies over a man. Ours? Survived it.
