Free Virtually Perfect by Sadie Mills Page A

bed.
    Was Ben going to be OK with this?  She couldn't face shutting Bo out again.  For a little while there, that cat had been the only thing dragging her sorry arse out of bed in the morning.  Again.  That's the thing with pets.  When it all turns to crap, when you stop caring about you , you still have to look after them, because you're all they've got.  And in return for a couple of square meals a day, they will love you forever.  It's not a bad deal.  They might honk up a furball on your carpet once in a while, but they don't let you down on the big stuff.  All the slanging matches with Dan, that cat had never budged from her side, even when the shouting had echoed down the street.  In fact, whenever the arguments got really bad, he used to jump up onto Eve's lap and purr.
    Did she really want to risk going back there again?  It had taken months to claw her way back to a life that was just bearable.  All the sleepless nights, not eating, the gnawing emptiness.  It really did feel as though someone had ripped her ribcage wide open and scooped out everything inside.
    Was she going to be OK with this?
    'Eve?  Are you alright?'
    Ben stood in the doorway rubbing his head with a towel.  Her dressing gown came up to his knees.  His hair was all over the place.
    'Yes,' she smiled.  'Yes.  I'm OK.'
    She jumped down from the bed.
    'Can I get you a drink?' she asked.  'Tea?  Coffee?  Hot chocolate?'
    '...Something stronger, maybe?'
     
    His colour had returned.  In fact, his cheeks were quite pink.  They lay on a mound of cushions Eve had grabbed from the sofa and thrown down on the hearth rug, Ben in her white robe, Eve in her black gown, toasting their bare feet by the fire. 
    Ben sloshed another dose of dark rum into their tumblers, Eve balked as he filled hers half full.  She didn't try to stop him.  She didn't like it, but it was all she had in the house.  A memento from the tiramisu she'd tried to make at Christmas.  Tried, and dismally failed.
    She'd purposely not bought wine that night.  Have you ever seen 'This Is What Crazy Looks Like Via Text Messaging'?  Do a Youtube search.  It's a warning to single girls everywhere.  No one expects their text tirade to go viral.  She'd made a fool out of herself with Dan, she wasn't about to do it again.  She'd even deleted Ben's number.
    Eve could hear the mantel clock ticking.
    'Shall I put the TV on?' she asked. 
    Ben grimaced.
    'Please don't,' he said.
    Eve laughed.
    He swirled his glass, smiling, watching her.  The flames danced across her bare shoulders.  She didn't look so pale.  Her cheeks were flushed.  She was relaxed.  Warm, soft.  Mellow.  The polar opposite of what she'd been earlier.  When she was angry, she was rabid.
    Eve took another sip, tried not to pull a face.  Her arms felt heavy and her nose a little numb.  Her toes felt deliciously warm and tingly.  But she felt uneasy.  Uncertain.  A little uncomfortable.  It was too quiet.
    'Let's play truth or dare,' she said.
    Ben raised his eyebrows.
    'OK.'
    'You go first,' said Eve.  Ben grinned.
    'Alright...  Truth.'
    '...Have you ever cheated?'
    Ben gave her a look.
    Here we go...
    'No.' 
    He thought for a moment.  
    '...Well, actually, I suppose so... yes.' 
    He watched Eve raise an eyebrow. 
    'We sneaked in a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 into the school disco.  I was off my face...  I snogged Lucy Hart.' Ben admitted. 
    Eve looked unimpressed. 
    '...Then it all got very messy.  I spent the rest of the night projectile vomiting in the lane.  I was grounded for three months.  And Sarah dumped me...  Does that count?'
    'That counts,' she said, disapprovingly.
    'Your turn then,' said Ben.  'Truth or dare.'
    'Truth.'
    It was never going to be dare.
    'How old were you when you lost your virginity?'
    Eve went quiet.
    '...I'd like to play something else.'
    'Come on!' grinned Ben.
    '...I've got Monopoly,' she said, hopefully.  'Or Trivial Pursuit?'
    'Dish