Page 22 of Weekends with You

I returned Hen’s text with the giddiness of an elementary schooler as I boarded the Tube.

Leaving work now. Excited to see you. Xx

Tonight was going to be brilliant.

“Raj, are you home?” I called as soon as I got off the elevator.

“Lu? I just got out of class. Come in here!” she answered from her room.

When I walked in, she was on the floor surrounded by piles of books. “Thank god you’re here,” she said. “I can’t study for another minute.”

“Finals are going well, I take it?”

“They’re going. And going. And going. This econ class is killing me.”

“You’re great at math, though. How hard can it be?”

“Oh, love, I’m absolutely killing it. I’m just dying of boredom in the process. I need a break.”

“Well then close the books and let’s start getting ready,” I said, pulling her to her feet. “Bonfire Night waits for no one.”

“Unlike you,” she mused.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t been pining over Henry since he left and counting the minutes until his return.”

I moaned, collapsing onto her bed. “I’m nervous to see him, Raj. Is that dumb?”

“First of all, no feelings are dumb. Second of all, have you been talking since he left?”

“Here and there. We’ve been texting on and off about our jobs, what we’ve been up to, that kind of thing. A rogue call once or twice.” I watched her eyes light up and tried to play it off just in case mine were doing the same. “But this really makes no sense,” I continued, “so I’m not sure what he’s getting at.”

“Don’t be daft, Lucy, really. It’s not cute.” I shoved her, and she grabbed my hands. “He’s obviously into you. What’s the harm in having a little fun each time he’s home?”

“The harm is that he leaves,” I moaned. “And I want to have a little fun all the time.”

“Well, he isn’t the only bloke in London, you know.”

“I’m serious, Raj!”

“So am I! What’s stopping you from seeing other people?” It was a great question.

“I guess that I don’t want to?”

“You’re in deep, babe,” she said. “And from the looks of you two last month, so is he.”

“This is going to end in disaster.”

“With that attitude, you’re absolutely right. Now quit whining. We have getting ready to do. Bonfire Night waits for no one, remember?”

We tore through her wardrobe, then mine, then Liv’s when she got home, trying to decide what to wear. Eventually, I decided on a pair of light-wash straight-leg jeans, a bulky gray sweater, my leather jacket, and a pair of Dr. Martens.

“You always end up in the same thing,” Liv said, pulling a floor-length cardigan over a silk top.

“Because I know what I like,” I said. We were looking at ourselves in the same mirror, and I had to admit, I looked good. Casual. As if I had no idea Henry would be home in exactly twenty-two minutes.

“Ugh,” she groaned, throwing the cardigan to the floor. “Must be nice.”