Em’s face is rosy and she’s a spluttering, messier version of her usual self. She and Cat have managed to find themselves trapped in an awkward situation where neither of them has any clue how the other feels. “How are things going?” I ask her out of the corner of my mouth. “Don’t know.” “Do you at least know if you’re flirting or just friends?” “No fucking clue.” Her eyes are big and she speaks quickly while Cat is out of earshot. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Ryan. I mean, I never do, but I’m worse than usual. I’m factually worse than usual right now. Women are so fucking lovely. How the
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Real
