Not so skanky

Pete and S came home last night just the back of midnight. I was laying on the futon mattress watching telly, or actually looking at the telly while dreading the arrival of Pete. I haven’t told S anything about Fife, but I really wanted to. She’s an old friend, and I just want someone to hash things out with. But she and Pete have become close, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to choose sides.

They had been out at one of Pete’s ‘gigs’, and when they came home they were chatting and laughing, but as soon as they saw me the laughing stopped. Did they know?

They asked how was my weekend? What sort of event was I at? Did I meet any cool authors? My god they did know? 

I mumbled through the answers, because I hadn’t thought that far in advance. Previously they showed little interest in my whereabouts, so when I lied about having to go away for work, I never bothered to think up a cover story. I was quite vague in my answers, and then S said, ‘We wanted to talk to you about something.’

Shit. They did know. 

Below is a paraphrase of their chat with me. My thoughts are in italics:

S: I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You’ve taken me in, and I’m really sorry that I haven’t respect you or the flat.
Pete: Yeah. Me too. You are so amazing, and you’re really an important person to me.
What? No. Don’t say that.
S: I feel really bad about that party last weekend.
But…? There’s got to be a ‘but’.
S: I’ve called mum to see if I could move back home.
Shit. You never talk to your mum. Fucking hell.
S: Unfortunately she’s not as accommodating as you. But I will find somewhere else to go. I know the house is full and…
Me: Jesus. You don’t need to go anywhere else. I love having you here. It’s okay.
S: I’m going to get a job. I’ll be out on the hunt tomorrow.
Too right you will.
Pete: I rang my mom and dad as well, and they’re going to send me some money.
Enough for a plane ticket home? Please say enough for a plane ticket home.
Pete: I told them how much I owe you, and they’re going to try and put that together and send it over.
Me: Oh, Pete. There’s no need for all that.
What the fuck am I saying? Of course there’s the need for all that.
Pete: No. I’ve been a bit of a drain, and I’m going to rectify it.
Whew. Hopefully they’ll send you enough for a plane ticket home.
Pete: Plus, I got paid for tonight’s gig. I want you to have it.
(He hands me a £20 note.)
For fucksake. I’m not taking £20 off him. It would make me look like a stingy bastard.
Me: No no. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.
(Pete pockets the £20.)

Right, so at this point I can’t very well have the ‘Pete. I’ve spent the weekend with someone else, you’ll have to go live elsewhere’ conversation. It would make me look like the world’s biggest twat. And I’m feeling guilty enough as it is with out them turning into super nice people.

Also, at that point I still needed to text Fife back about seeing each other again. I had to do something. So, here’s my plan:

Pete said his parents should have the money wired to him by Wednesday. I won’t take the money, and instead I’ll tell him that it’s over between us, and he should use the money for a plane ticket home. There’s low cost airlines flying to Canada these days, so he should be able to get a fair for a reasonable price.

I texted Fife to say that I could see him on Wednesday night. I’ll have the chat with Pete on Wednesday, once the money’s been wired, and tell him it’s over and to use that money to go home. Then I’ll  go out with Fife that evening. Maybe I can finagle a stay at his house. That way Pete can get on with the emotions of being dumped and having to get back to Canada without me hovering about the flat. I’ll make sure S is around to ensure that Pete is okay.

Perfect plan. Right? (Rhetorical. Please DO NOT leave a comment telling me that I’m a coward and I need to dump Pete now. I’ll do it on Wednesday, I swear.)

In the bedtress last night, Pete tried to cuddle me, but I felt like the world’s biggest skank. So I pretended to be asleep and kind of kicked him away. As I lay there, I could hear him breathing. I just pretended he was Fife, and I finally fell asleep.

Yes, I’m a big massive cheat, and a wimp, and I’m doing no one any favours. But I’m not going to sleep with either Fife or Pete until after I have the talk with Pete on Wednesday. And then after that, I shall only be sleeping with Fife. See, not so skanky.

2 responses to “Not so skanky

  1. thebitchybride

    I’ve become mildly addicted to reading your blog and I feel the need to comment because I’m starting to feel like a weird, voyeuristic stalker.

    You poor thing. I can imagine myself getting tangled up in this sort of situation (well, my former self, I’m headed for the death-do-us-part happily ever after now), so I sympathise completely. The worst part is you must be all light and giddy about the beginning of this thing with Fife, but that feeling has to be muddied by everything with Pete.

    For what it’s worth, I think your Wednesday plan sounds like the best thing all round. Make sure you leave yourself a load of time between telling Pete and meeting Fife, though, because you can’t tell how Pete will react and how long that conversation is going to take.

    Good luck, and thanks for sharing!

    • No need to feel like a voyeuristic stalker. There are so many blogs I follow religiously but I’ve never commented on.

      And thank you so much for the support. I was so worried that everyone was going to start calling me ‘Jezebel’ after that last post. But maybe that’s because of my own guilty conscience. Also, good advice to not meet Fife too soon after having that talk with Pete. We’re scheduled for a late dinner, so should be okay.

      Thanks again for reading.

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