#4 Rebecca

 God I fucking hate the sodding, stinking Tube.

 You're thrust into an armpit and some cheeky teenager always manages to be standing crotch to my ass with no viable way of dodging to that one free seat in the middle of the carriage, and not to mention the awkwardness of accidentally catching someone's eye and then quickly looking down to recover but you're actually now staring at their crotch-

Never again.

I only hopped on because I couldn't call Addison Lee quick enough to get to Grace's apartment, and I completely underestimated the time it takes to get to her grotty crack den of a flat, and that 15 minute walk in the pitch black, and in high heels. Fuck it. Money may be tight, but I'm getting a cab from the station to hers.

Ohw I just WISH I was rich. There were the cutest leopard ponyskin heels in the window of KG I walked past earlier, and I just know I'd be less devastated about William breaking up with me for that god awful sloany redhead from Bristol, Clemmie something or other, if I had them on and around my feet. I had a revelation today, two weeks after furiously beating myself up asking why he ended such a perfect relationship with such great potential; I know its because Clemmie has a signet ring and I don't.

That's why he's taking her to his family's ski chalet in Chamonix, because she is rich and has a triple-barrelled surname, along with a definite distant relation to the Royal Family.

I'm not jealous though. Not at all. Sure, she might be loaded and posh, but does she have ambition, intelligence, grace and poise all wrapped up in a sexy size 8 frame?

Well, she's definitely got love-handles so that rules out the last one.

I'm not returning the necklace he bought me though, nu uh no way no how. If that cheeky swine thinks he can break up with Rebecca Spencer-Mills and get away with it he has another thing coming to him.

Oh fuck I've walked past Grace's house. Sorry I didn't mean house. I meant jazzed-up dungeon.

Double fuck, the """lift""" doesn't work. And I don't wear flats.

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I guess they heard my sighs of exhaustion from the bottom floor as Eva, Yaz and Grace are standing in the doorway before I even have a chance to knock. I make a shoddy job of hiding how shocked I am at the state of Grace.

"I know I know.. I look like death"

I shake my head overenthusiastically and stretch my mouth into the best forced smile I can muster.

"Hun you look fiiiine!"

It sounds kinda weird and high-pitched when I say it and I'm clearly not fooling anyone.

"I forgot you still had those pyjamas" I say, still force-smiling.  She should really burn those pjs, in fact, if I can get her dressed normally ever again I'll burn them.

"Oh these?... Well get used to them because I'm not changing ever again. What's the point of dressing up, I have no one to look nice for"

I gasp silently. This is worse than I thought

"Nonsense silly. Now come on, let's sit down and make a list of reasons why you're far better off without that swine" I lead her by the arm on to her gross mouldy grey sofa, "Hi girls how are we?" I ask smiling.

I've known the girls for about 3 years now but it doesn't make it any easier integrating into the wolfpack. I still feel I have to make up for not having been a childhood friend or a work buddy, especially when it comes with Anya sodding Lusher.

Grace won't see that that girl is just trouble, and she always will be; bailing her out every other day whether it be money loans, a bed for the night or just making sure she's got her bloody knickers on. And wasn't her dad a famous rock star in the 70s or something? How does she not have money? Probably blew it on cocaine or something.

Okay. That was catty of me; my therapist told me to concentrate negative thoughts towards positive ones.

Ugh, I just can't. All I can think about is how she almost broke William and I up at graduation, and that I cannot forgive.

"So... is it just the four of us then?" I ask optimistically.