She’d only taken a couple of swigs when Emma grabbed her hand. “Fuck, Richard’s here.”“Does it matter? You don’t need to speak to him.”�...�I want him to know I’m so over him.”Charlotte realised that Emma was quite drunk at this stage. “Should we go home?”“Fuck no. I want to make him jealous.”She stood up and walked over to an older guy who looked like a Robert Smith clone with a spikey bird's nest hairdo. Charlotte watched. She felt like she was watching a car crash unfolding, powerless to stop. He appeared perfect normal, playing cards and carrying on conversations with the others while the whole time his hand was playing with her. Michelle appeared out of sorts to me but I guess that can be expected when someone’s hand is having its way with you while you’re sitting with the people. Suddenly as she brought her glass toward her mouth but she spilled it on her shirt before she could drink from it.It was only a little bit and she quickly put the glass down and dabbed at it with a. More

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