Her car is old, loud, and freezing cold.
Six months ago, the two of us had traveled the country for a week in this very car, sleeping on the seats and putting sheets across the windows. At night, parking up next to a beach, the sounds of the waves crashing against the sand, lulling us to sleep.
A national football game had been going on. England were set to win it too - the odds were in their favour, and so the country buzzed with anticipation. With the electrifying feeling they got every time they came close to winning a sport, Isobel had rolled down the window to scream when the radio presenter announced the first goal.
I remember feeling the breeze as she did. I remember realising we were cooking in that crappy metal box that somehow still worked, and reaching forward to twist the dial of the air-con.
"Shit, Kenzie!" Isobel laughed, high on the sea air. The knob had come off in my hand and the cool air blasted over us in waves. I was laughing hysterically when I saw the look on her face.
It's decidedly less funny in the winter.
My skin prickles under the icy air.
Despite the fabric she's sellotaped over the vents, the rumble of the air-con working its magic, still mocks me.
It mocks the memory in my head of when I broke it.
"Are my lips turning blue?" I ask her, goosebumps covering my body.
She laughs, slapping at my shoulder.
Apparently, she's unaffected by the cold when she drives now. It has become part of her driving routine.
The bag of chinese food on my lap is a godsend.
"Is your check engine light on?"
"Right. . ." she slams down on the accelerator to narrowly miss a red light. "Just because you've gotten used to Zeus' fancy convertible-"
"Isobel!" I blush. "You can't call him that tonight."
We jolt as the car tips over a speed bump.
Bottles of beer cam asked me to pick up, clink at my feet and the smell of the food on my lap makes my mouth water.
"I am so ready for some crappy food," I moan to her.
"I skipped lunch for that meeting with Gareth, so I'll fight you for a grain of rice. Don't test me."
I don't doubt it.
The day has been very long and it's already been dark for hours.
Cam has texted me four times, updating me throughout the afternoon about our night out, and finally informing me that they were going to start drinking without us.
Noah texted me too, asking how my presentation had gone.
Terribly, I texted back. My boss laughed when I fell over a whiteboard leg. But he seemed pleased with my advert idea, at least.
He sent me back a picture of a single cupcake, sat on the kitchen counter next to Squish, captioned: Knew you'd smash it.
My heart just about melted.
I did smash it, actually. We all had, and at the end of the day, sat around the table in the meeting room, collapsed into our chairs. It felt good knowing that tonight could be a celebration rather than a depressing pick-me-up.
Before we left the office, Isobel opened up a locked drawer in her desk and pulled out four small spirit bottles that she tucked firmly into her jacked pocket.
She touched up her eyeliner in the lift, bouncing next to me all the way to the car.
It's been so long since we've been to a club, I've pretty much forgotten how to dance at one. How to dance at all.
Isobel pulls up to the house, parking across the drive as if dotting Noah's car like a 'T'. half of her car blocks the pavement, but she doesn't seem to care, shrugging as she slams her door and argues to get the too-firm wing mirror tucked in.
I juggle bottles under my arms and put my hand through the bag so it balances on my wrist as I step out of the car.
"You're a real help," I tell her as she locks each door of the car individually. The central locking broke long before we met.
Luckily, the front door is unlocked so I'm able to dump everything in my arms onto the sofa as soon as I've nudged my way into the living room.
Isobel pops her gum behind me.
"Is your brother as fit as you?" she asks with a mischievous grin etched on her face.
"Fuck off!" I laugh. "He can't date my friends if I can't date his."
I unload the chinese into four bowls equally, mouth watering as the golden fried rice calls out to me. Isobel practically snatches hers from my hands, shoving a piece of chicken into her mouth with her fingers.
The cupcake stares up at me from the counter, reminding me that Noah Romano is a complete sweetheart.
"I luff you," she attempts, with a mouthful of food.
I walk over to the front door again, peeping my head around to call up the stairs.
"Boys! Dinner!"
I don't wait for them.
I'm starving, and it's their loss if they didn't hear me. Instead, I follow Isobel's footsteps, grabbing my bowl and bringing it as close to my chin as possible to begin shoveling in the highest volume of food my mouth will allow.
We make eye contact, Isobel grinning around a mouthful of rice.
I shove more chicken into my mouth and hover over my bowl like Golem.
Precious, precious chinese.
"You still put food away like a dude."
Noah's voice vibrates through my body, right down to my toes. I wiggle them. Because he shouldn't be affecting my toes, of all things.
He's wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt that's a little big on him, and his arms look fucking huge stretching out the fabric.
Looking at the tattoos that travel all the way from the back of his palms and sneak into the hem of his short sleeves, I drink him in.
Did muscles always turn me on this much?
I swallow the food in my mouth and suck in my bottom lip, giving him another once over.
Damn.
"Down girl," Isobel whispers next to my ear.
"This is Isobel," I introduce, gesturing to her lazily. "We're starving."
He nods, walking towards us and reaches around me to grab his own bowl.
His aftershave smells like expensive tobacco and sandalwood, intoxicating like the whisky I can already smell in the room.
"I heard you started without us," I mumble, still savouring the sudden arrival of his aroma. "Is Cam dead?"
"They're playing some card game in his room."
He sits opposite us, chatting casually with Isobel about our presentations and how the day had gone so far.
He looks good tonight. Better than I'd expected.
His messy hair actually seems to be styled casually, with curls that look softer and bouncier than usual. His auburn hair looks lighter today too, freshly washed.
I briefly wonder what his shampoo smells like, but all men universally use 3-in-1 body wash for everything.
He reaches back behind him to grab a bottle of water next to the sink and when his chest presses against his shirt, my eyes bulge.
Take off your shirt.
Please.
It's all I want - one look and I'll be good to go for at least a few days.
"How was your presentation? Other than embarrassing yourself as usual." Noah asks.
My eyes snap up from his chest, landing on a cheeky smile. His eyes are soft and glazed, and I realise he's probably drunk a little more than he lets on.
"You embarrassed yourself?" Isobel snorts.
"Piss off," I whisper, nudging her knee with my own. "It went well. It was more of an informal chat rather than a big presentation, really. He's just happy we've finally stretched the budget enough for an advert."
"It was chatty?" she whines. "I got fucking grilled in mine."
I giggle. Noah's eyes meet my own, sparking at me.
"How was your day?" I ask.
"Decent."
A man of many words.
"Do you wanna take some shots?" he adds.
Isobel's arms are immediately flung towards the ceiling, and she's dancing in her chair, grinning and laughing.
She then produces little bottles of alcohol from her pockets.
She hands one to each of us, my face scrunching as I throw back tequila neat.
"You girls go and get changed, I'll get the others down for more pre-drinks," Noah smiles, putting Cam's dinner in the microwave and throwing me a casual wink as I stand up from my seat.
My knees go weak, but Isobel pushes me along towards the hallway before I can begin to wonder what the hell that means.
The tequila warms the pit of my stomach, and I briefly wish we'd brought more drinks upstairs with us.
Something to wash away the shame.
Something to wash away the lust.
"Noah is-"
I hush her as we ascend the stairs, hyper-aware of Cam being in his room and overhearing something he shouldn't.
I'm not sure exactly how he'd react to my glaringly obvious crush on Noah, but I imagine the outcome wouldn't be positive.
She giggles about him the entire walk up the stairs and playfully slaps my ass when we reach the top. I yelp and jump around the corner, bumping into Mia coming out of Cam's room.
"Hey! You aren't ready?" she asks, frowning.
"I'm just going to get dressed and sort my hair out," i tell her. " This is Isobel."
She stands beside me and tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, being polite as she introduces herself. Isobel's always been hot and cold with people like this, confident in front of some but not others with no obvious pattern.
She'll warm up as soon as she drinks a little more, as will I.
Which is the thing that's worrying me.
Mia hurries us to get ready once more, the two of us shushing and giggling with each other as we try to choose our outfits. I had brought all of our options up to the bathroom this morning, before leaving for work.
Isobel, once more, tries to convince me that the little black dress will do the trick.
"Cam's been weirdly protective lately. He probably wouldn't even let me leave the house."
"You'll look hot though. I think Noah would like it," she winks.
I know she's trying to trick me into wearing it, and it almost works, but I pull a skirt out of the bag with a slit down the leg and hold it up for her approval.
She moans about the dress, but finds a skimpy shirt to match my skirt and let it go. She's already dressed and ready by the time we've settled on my outfit.
So, she straightens my hair as I try to touch up my makeup in the bathroom mirror.
"You look hot tonight," she tells me, pulling a brush through a knot as she peers around my head to peer at me in the mirror. "I think you should flirt with him a little."
"Izzy, no."
"Kenzie, yes!"
"He doesn't even-"
Her head snaps back around, glaring at me. "I think he does. The second you opened your mouth, he was smiling. You know he's fully aware that you can't stop bloody staring at him, don't you?"
I purse my lips, but continue applying my mascara.
"You know i'm right. He would have told Cam to ask you to quit it if he didn't like it." she smirks. "Just have a little dance with him, hmm?"
I need more alcohol, and I need it now.
"It's been ages since you've shagged someone."
"Isobel!"
She just laughs behind me, giving my hair a little tug.
I'm glad when she doesn't press the issue any further, just continues to give me knowing looks in the mirror as I finish getting ready.
It has been a while.
She knows full well it has, because we're over-sharers who can't keep our mouths shut around one another. The last time I'd been with anyone was back when I'd first got the job at the sports firm, and Isobel and I had gone for coffee to get to know each other.
Four hours later, we were drunk in a bar. When some lads from an IT company asked to join us, we welcomed them with open arms and empty purses, hoping they would buy the rounds.
They bought us drinks and I let Isobel convince me that taking one home was a good idea when I drunkenly suggested it to her. He was decent looking, and sweet, and lasted all of two minutes despite skipping foreplay.
The ghosting was mutual.
One night stands never really are all that fun.
"Lip plumping lip gloss?" I ask as she thrusts the small tube in front of me. "Will it hurt?"
"Beauty is pain, Kenz."
I put some on, staring at myself intently in the mirror once I do.
I look hot tonight, with my skimpy shirt and soft glossy lips.
Isobel wraps her arm around mine and tugs me out of the bathroom.
"Let's get pissed. Please." I breathe. She grins at me from behind her own mascara-covered lashes, looking dark and mysterious under all the eyeliner she's put on.
She tries to tease me about Noah as we descend the stairs but I quickly shut her up, muttering about knocking it off in front of my brother. I need to behave myself in front of Cam too, especially with Noah looking as good as he does tonight.
"Kenzie!" Cam shouts when I enter the room, throwing back a bottle of vodka and taking a gulp that makes his eyes and I grasp it by the neck and bring it to my mouth. "Who's your friend?"
The vodka burns my throat, making my eyes water slightly.
Isobel introduces herself to everyone and they introduce themselves in turn. When I round the sofa to sit next to the girls on the floor, I catch Noah's once over of my outfit.
Good - he should look.
I hand Isobel the bottle of vodka as she takes a seat next to me.
"Alright. . . Drinking game?" Mia suggests with a smirk.
Cam groans and throws his hand over his face, collapsing into the back of the sofa as Fin and Noah laugh at him.
"I'll get a taxi here in around an hour to take us to town," Emily explains. She sways on her knees, pulling her lip into her mouth and giving the boys a dopey smile.
Now that I'm studying them a little closer, Isobel and I certainly have some catching up to do.
They're all tipsy in their own ways. The girls are swaying, and being touchy-feely with each other. The boys are throwing back drinks like they mean nothing, like they don't taste the bitterness at the back of their throats.
Isobel chugs some of the vodka, spluttering and coughing, and hands me back the bottle.
"Kings?" I offer, eyeing the deck of cards on the table.
It was a game I played a lot during Uni: cards surround a glass or cup, each card means doing a different task. King means pour some of your drink into whatever the cards are splayed around, and the last king pulled out of the deck has to drink whatever has ended up in the glass.
An easy game to get blackout drunk with.
"Eyyy!" Mia whoops. She leans forward and starts laying the cards out, face down around the glass. I lean forward on my knees, carefully eyeing the glass as I tip the bottle in my hand to start us off.
Just for good measure.
I feel eyes burn into me, scorching my skin. When I glance up to the sofa, Noah is staring at me. Not at my face though - he doesn't even notice as I look back at him. His gaze is locked onto my chest, where my shirt has fallen forward with me, exposing the black lace bra underneath.
I teeter on my knees, my shirt falling further forward.
My nipples begin to harden under his stare, pressing out against the lace almost painfully. Noah's throat bobs as he swallows, yet he still has no idea that I'm looking back at him.
That I know he's staring.
I roll back into a seated position and raise the bottle of vodka towards him in greeting before taking another bitter swig.
His fist tightens around the neck of his beer bottle and his other hand touches his thigh. The thigh that I would usually be pressed against, squeezed between him and Cam on the sofa, but instead Fin resides there.
"Let's pour some proper drinks for this, hey Kenz? We can't have you keep downing vodka." Isobel pulls me from my seated position.
We skip arm in arm to the kitchen, before she starts pulling open every cupboard we have.
"I'm starting to feel it."
She pulls the bottle from my hand, shaking her head with a small, shy smile. The pink in her hair has got wider again - how hadn't I noticed that at work?
"I need to catch up then."
She drinks, scrunches her nose up, and pours out two measures of vodka into glasses before reaching into the fridge for the only mixer we have available: apple juice.
"Four is whores!" Cam yells towards us.
Isobel and I both look down at the horrible cocktails she has created, and take a tentative sip as we walk back over to the living room.
Noah holds out his arm as I approach him. So I let him pull me into the arm of the sofa. He looks to Cam, and then up at me, shrugging as his fingers press into my waistline.
He leans up to my ear as everyone talks over one another, practically purrs the words as he speaks to me.
"You look good."
Perhaps he's even drunker than I'd initially thought.
"Good?"
"Great. Fit," he chokes. Fin pats his leg and points to the cards on the table.
My ear is cold when he pulls away from me to reach for one, but I regain enough composure to see that Isobel is sitting next to Emily on the floor and they're both grinning at me.
I try not to meet their eyes.
"Queen," Noah says, leaning back into the sofa easily and sliding his arm back around me as if it's an everyday occurrence. Cam doesn't even blink at the gesture as he turns to look when Noah speaks. "Question master. Does everyone know what that means?"
"Fuck you!" We all chorus in unison.
Emily and I meet eyes and laugh. It's the rule of the game - the question master asks you a question, and you must respond with the words 'fuck you' or drink.
Even though I've known the rules since Uni, it still makes me giggle.
I pick out my card, trying to avoid the attention of everyone, with Noah making my heart race.
"Two of you. Isobel and Mia drink."
As the game continues on, there's a buzz in the air. It's more fun than i've had in months - I feel closer to Cam than ever despite barely saying two words to him, because he's sharing these moments with me.
He's letting me into his circle without question. It's a wonder we didn't do this sooner, because hanging out with him feels easy.
In high school, all I wanted was for him to leave me alone, and let me have the remote for once.
I can't tell you how many football games I was forced to watch.
But when his eyes meet mine briefly, there is a drunken grin plastered over his face, and I can't help grinning back.
"I like this skirt on you," Noah reveals quietly, pulling my body towards him with the arm that's wrapped around my waist.
With his thumb and his forefinger, he pinches part of the fabric. Then let's go again, gently stroking the crease out by rubbing his hand twice down my thigh.
"How much have you had to drink?"
He doesn't answer, just shrugs with that killer smile, bringing his beer up to his mouth.
We play some more and I drink far too much.
Isobel tells a story about us getting stuck in a broom closet at work that has me embarrassed, drunkenly leaning into Noah's side for faux protection from her.
Mia and Cam openly flirt with each other halfway through the game, like they've forgotten everybody else is there.
Emily has to round us up when the taxi arrives, which should be a red flag in terms of going out together, but we stumble through the door one by one.
I frantically collect various things from my bags as Isobel hovers by the front door, shouting for me to hurry up.
Purse. Lip gloss. Cash. Where is my ID?
"Kenzie, hurry up!" I hear Cam yelling, so loud that everybody living on the street can probably hear us. I find my ID tucked into the front page of my work diary and file it in my bra, half jogging to the front door as I pull my heels on.
Noah is waiting outside the door with his keys, and Isobel is stumbling over to the cab.
I lean against the wall and watch him struggle to get his key in the lock.
"I could make a very rude joke right now," I tell him, watching as the key misses the hole again. He giggles, the sound making my face light up involuntarily.
Finally, he locks the door and we pile into the taxi with the others.