Free His 'n' Hers by Mike Gayle

going clubbing, so my plan had been to get a video and an extra large bag of popcorn, have a night in and feel sorry for myself.
    ‘What are you doing here?’ asks Jim.
    ‘I was about to ask you the same question.’
    ‘Me and Nick moved to Kings Heath a couple of weeks ago when the lease on the house in Selly Oak ran out.’ He pauses. ‘I thought you’d moved to London with Damon.’
    ‘No . . . well, it didn’t work out,’ I say. ‘Jane and I moved here a fortnight ago when the lease ran out in Heely Road.’
    ‘Whereabouts are you living now?’ asks Jim.
    ‘Mitford Avenue.’
    ‘What number?’
    ‘Sixty-five,’ I say, observing the huge grin spreading across Jim’s face. ‘Don’t tell me you’re—’
    ‘I live at thirty-six,’ says Jim. ‘I think we’re directly across the road from you.’
    ‘You’re not the house with the blue door and the Jim Morrison poster in the bay window, are you?’
    ‘And are you the house with the green door and the scooter in the front garden?’
    ‘It’s Jane’s boyfriend Peter’s scooter. He leaves it at our house because he thinks it’s less likely to be nicked there. I can’t believe we’re neighbours,’ I say.
    ‘And I can’t believe we haven’t bumped into each other before now. So how’s Damon?’
    ‘He’s good, thanks.’ I scratch the side of my face. ‘And are you . . . seeing anyone?’
    ‘No . . . well, no . . .’ he replies, ‘. . . not really.’
    Suddenly we both become aware that we’re still holding the video box. Unsure what to say or do next, we remain motionless, as if playing a childhood game of statues.
    ‘Are you going to rent that or are you just browsing?’ I ask eventually.
    ‘Rent,’ he replies, and pulls the box from my grip.
    ‘Actually, I think you’ll find I had it first,’ I retort, and snatch it back. We’re laughing as we do this, but at the same time there’s something serious going on. We’re flirting again.
    Jim grabs the video, pulls the band of his Jeans away from his stomach and lodges it down the front of his trousers.
    ‘You’re such a child,’ I say, staring at the bulge in his jeans. ‘An absolute . . .’
    ‘Juvenile?’ offers Jim, grinning like an idiot. ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’
    ‘I’ll give you twice the rental if you give the box to me,’ I say firmly.
    ‘Tell you what, how about a compromise? I’ll let you watch it at my house. But only if you promise to keep your hands to yourself.’ He held out his hand for me to shake. ‘Agreed?’
    I shake his hand. I feel his skin on mine. I can already see what’s going to happen and I don’t want to fight it any more. ‘Agreed.’
    8.25 p.m.
    I can’t believe it, I think, imagining what it would be like to kiss her again. Here I am leaving Blockbuster with the girl I adore most in the whole world when less than an hour earlier I’d entered with a girl I didn’t even like that much . . . Louise!
    Damn.
    Louise.
    What am I going to do?
    Louise.
    What if she’s spotted me?
    Louise.
    What if Alison’s spotted her?
    Louise.
    What am I going to do?
    There’s only one thing I can do.
    I remove the video box from my jeans and hand it to Alison. ‘Can you pay for it?’
    ‘You really know how to flatter a girl,’ says Alison, holding the video at arm’s length and wrinkling her nose. ‘Why don’t you pay for it yourself?’
    ‘I’ve got something to do.’
    Alison can tell I’m being evasive. ‘Which is?’
    ‘Checking out the happy endings in the new-releases section.’ Before she can say anything I’ve disappeared to find Louise.
    ‘Have you got the film?’ asks Louise, when I arrive. ‘I’ve been looking at JFK again and I didn’t realise it had Kevin Costner in it. I quite like Kevin Costner.’
    ‘This isn’t working,’ I tell her firmly.
    ‘What isn’t working?’
    ‘You. Me. This. Us. We aren’t working.’
    ‘You don’t want to go out with me any more?’
    ‘It’s