The List

by Joanna Bolouri

bathroom tap. Fuck, I’m so hungover my face feels like it belongs to someone else. Lucy is still asleep on the other bed and I refuse to get dressed and venture out where there are people with eyes who will judge me. For once the hangover was worth it, as last night’s party was amazing! Every year we all stay at the Sapphire Hotel (overpriced, trendy and slap bang in the middle of the city centre) to bring in the bells and every year I’m surprised they haven’t banned us yet. The others had already checked in by the time Lucy and I arrived

Test

that Spanish girl,’ Lucy interrupted. ‘What’s her name again?’ ‘Pedra. I’ve only met her once and called her Pedro by accident.’ She threw her coat on the bed near the window and turned on the television as I started to unpack, wondering why the hell I’d brought four pairs of shoes. ‘Are you wearing your green dress?’ I asked, looking at the plain black one I’d brought. ‘Yup. Although with my red hair, I look like a Riverdance reject.’ I left her, mid-Irish jig, and went