1. Love at second sight
Chapter One: The N55
Ali’s engagement ring was burning on her finger of her clenched fist as she got the bus home, she
couldn't wait to rip it off and angrily throw it at something. Her glance lay straight ahead of her at
the rain drizzled windows of the N55 bus. Eyes glazed over and a little pink but no signs of tears,
yet, she wasn't one to cry in public. She couldn't bare the thought of strangers staring at her;
wondering what was going on in her life.
The N55 came to a stop and Ali stepped off into the bitter London air, not bothering to put her hood
up for the few short minutes back to her flat. Praying that her house mates were out or asleep, she
couldn't bare to be interrogated on the train wreck of a night.
As quietly as she could, she unlocked the door and tip toed into a thankfully silent house. The tears
were already rolling down her cheeks as she walked into the bathroom, bolting the door behind her
and flicking on the light switch. The bright light on the white tiles were harsh on her tired eyes as
she unzipped his favourite, damp hoodie and threw it into the bath tub. Shivering, she stepped
towards the sink where a mascara stained face stared back at her in the smeary mirror above. She
looked down at her left arm, red finger prints that were already bruising stood out on the pale skin
of her forearm.
“Got to wear a long sleeve top tomorrow”, Ali mumbled to herself. How did it get to this? She
sobbed as she slid off the 9 karat ring and dropped it delicately into the sink. The sound of the
metal hitting the porcelain made her jump and she quickly grabbed the ring and put it into her jean
pockets. Ali turned on the cold tap and splashed her face with water, “I wish I never met him”.
Chapter Two: Nausea
Ali awoke in the familiar surroundings of her third floor bedroom, white sheets and tear stained
pillows surrounded her. She wished she could hide out in the comfort of her bed all day but knew
she had to face the music some time.
She climbed out of bed and padded towards the large victorian window, sunshine streaming
through the curtains. Looking out, the sky was a beautiful, September blue, not a cloud in the sky.
Ali couldn't even see a puddle on the pavement below, even though she was sure it had been
thundering that night. She grabbed a long sleeve jumper off her desk chair and examined her arm,
nothing. She couldn't quite believe there wasn't a mark on her, she ran her hand over the patch
where last night stood a pretty obvious hand print, it didn't even feel tender.
“I guess he didn't grab me as hard as I thought… ” Ali said softly, as she slipped the jumper over
her pyjamas anyway.
It was still early, Ali thought, as she slowly walked down the stairs. She would have time to make
herself a cup of tea and practice what she was going to tell her friends before they woke. Ali
pushed open the kitchen door and froze in the doorway as ‘HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY’ banners
surrounded her. Stamped cards and perfectly wrapped presents lay out in front of her on the
kitchen table. She felt her knees wobble as she grabbed the door frame with shaking, clammy
hands to steady herself. What the hell was going on? Were her house mates playing a trick on
her? Did they know about last night? Was this their way of cheering her up? Nausea hit her as a
million questions flew round her head.
Her line of thought was cut off as she heard foot steps behind her,
“Happy Birthday Al!” Patrick exclaimed as he hugged her. Ali's body went numb, hanging like a doll
in Patrick’s arms. “Woah, Al, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Being 21 isn't that bad!” He joked
as he shouted, “Ali’s awake” up the stairs. Ali heard movement upstairs as Patrick lead her into the

2. kitchen and sat her in one of the kitchen chairs. “Seriously though, sure you’re okay?” Ali managed
to nod her head as the nausea grew stronger, gripping the kitchen table.
“I just need some water”. Patrick grabbed a glassed, filled it with water and handed it to her with a
sideways look. She sipped it gratefully as her friends came bounding into the kitchen, exchanging
happy birthdays and hugs, Ali sat uneasy.
Lastly, Izzy entered the room, holding a beautiful pink wrapped box with a silver bow. Ali gulped,
she knew exactly what was in the box. A pair of embellished Louboutin’s, which she leant to her
sister 2 months ago and never got back.
Why were her friends doing this? Did they think she would find it funny? A way to take what
happened with her and Oliver last night off her mind?
“So are we still going to The Mayfair tonight to celebrate?” asked Jordan. Another wave of nausea
hit. It finally struck Ali what was going on,
“Did Oliver ask you to do this?!” She snapped. Her friends looked round the room in confusion.
“Oliver?..” Izzy repeated.
“Yeah did he ask you to do this so he could, like, start again?” Ali questioned aggressively. She had
always told Ollie her 21st birthday had been the best of her life because that was the night she met
him.
“Whos Oliver?” Patrick laughed uneasily.
“Oliver from your creative writing class?” Julia asked, puzzled “tall guy, glasses?”. Ali looked round
the room, her friends loved a prank but they weren't this good of actors. She looked at Patrick, the
joker, he looked more scared than anything, not a smirk in sight. Another wave of nausea. If Ollie
had told them what happened, they would never of done this anyway. He wasn't exactly their
favourite person at the moment and besides, it was gone 2am when she left his flat, they would
never of been able to set this all up in time.
Prickles of heat went through Ali’s body, had the past 3 years of her life been a dream? Was she
going crazy? She sat up and took a sip of water.
“Yeah Ollie from class..” She lied, a class she graduated from in 2012. A fake, high pitched laugh
came out of her mouth. “He was joking about something.. Never mind. Is, is that for me?” indicating
at the pink box. Izzy looked round the room nervously.
“Um, yeah” as she handed over the box. Ali's hands trembled as she untied the ribbons and paper.
She sat with the shoe box on her, took a deep breath and lifted the lid. There they were. Brand
new, unworn, unmarked, embellished Louboutins.