Nothing New for Sophie Drew: a heart-warming romantic comedy by Katey Lovell (best autobiographies to read .txt) 📕

Eve and I shared a look as she studied the drinks list. A “what the fuck is she on about” look.

“I’ve hired out one of the bars back in Newcastle,” Tawna continued after she’d ordered the drinks, as though Eve and I were the weird ones. “The one you had your birthday party at actually, Soph. So many people were asking what I was doing for a hen do, and I couldn’t expect everyone to fly out to New York at the drop of a hat, could I?” She laughed at the absurdity, totally missing how she’d expected exactly that of me and Eve.

I was so tired, so achy, and a little bit drunk, and these three factors combined caused me to snap. Biting my tongue was no longer on the agenda, I was well and truly riled. “Why would you do that? What kind of megalomaniac needs three hen dos?”

Tawna looked at me as though she’d been slapped, before angrily slamming the menu down against the wooden bar. “I don’t think it’s being a mema… megla… melogamaniac.” The long word foiled her in her tipsy state. “I thought my friends would want to celebrate my last days as a free woman.”

I threw back my head and a cruel laugh escaped my lips. “It’s hardly like you’re going to be a slave in a third world country. You’re going to be living in your flawless house with your flawless husband who earns enough money that you don’t have to work in a dead-end job. You haven’t got a clue what it’s like in the real world. You’d be nothing without Johnny and his money. It wouldn’t surprise me if that’s the only reason you’re marrying him.”

I knew I’d taken it too far when Eve shook her head at me, but even so I couldn’t bring myself to apologise. Tawna was so detached from reality, and she needed to know it. Everything spilled out in anger. My debts. Eve’s mum’s decline. I condensed a no-holds-barred account of the past six months into five emotion-riddled minutes, and I was on such a roll, such a cathartic roll, there was no chance of either of my friends breaking my stride.

By the time I’d finished ranting, calling Tawna selfish, oblivious, and self-centred, my throat hurt and my cheeks were soaked from my tears. I’d let everything loose, from the huge things like the red letters from the credit card company right through to the smaller things like how her obsession with whether using real crystals as table confetti was old-hat is a first-world privilege. (I’d also told her I had no idea whether or not it was old-hat, but that if she put semi-precious jewels on the tables, I’d be collecting them up and selling them to pay off my debts.)

Eve stared at the polished table, as though examining the grain of the wood for flaws. Tawna, unusually for her, was stunned into silence, and when I finally came to a halt, flat out of both breath and home truths to reveal, her lips remained clamped together.

The kindly barman subtly placed what I presumed to be a glass of water in front of me, which I guessed was to help me calm down and cool down. I winced as I took a sip. It was vodka, neat and without even a solitary cube of ice. The element of surprise brought everything into sharper focus, and I noticed I wasn’t the only one with a tear-stained face. Eve had been crying too.

“If I’d known how much you were struggling I would have helped,” Tawna said, which was just so like her to think she’d have all the solutions.

“As if,” I said derisively, inelegantly rubbing the back of my hand underneath my snotty nose. “You don’t give a damn about us anymore. All you care about is your wedding.”

“That’s not true!” Tawna’s mouth gaped.

“Really?” A drunken laugh escaped my lips, a twisted sarcastic cough of disbelief. “Every time we see you it’s because you want us to get fitted for dresses or show us the shoes you’re wearing. It’s always got to be about you and your ‘big day’.” I punctuated the final two words with air quotes and an eye-roll.

“When I did invite you over you blew me off for Max.” Tawna’s tone was indignant and defensive, “So don’t you tell me that I’ve not tried.”

“You were interfering!” I bellowed, pushing myself up from the stool I’d been sitting on. I obviously used more force than I’d intended to as the stool crashed, with a sharp ear-splitting clatter, against the dark-wood floor of the bar. “You weren’t bothered about seeing me, all you were bothered about was trying to get me and Darius back together so there’d be no bad feeling on your wedding day! If it wasn’t for you being so hell-bent on pushing us together I might be with Max now.”

People stared, watching cautiously over the salted rims of their margarita glasses, but I was too angry and too drunk to care that I was causing a scene.

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Tawna replied, her eyes glistening with tears which threatened to fall. “I was doing it for you. I want you to be happy.”

“Really, Tawna? Really?” I stared her down, or at least, I attempted to. It’s hard to eyeball someone when you can see two of them. “Because lately it seems like you’re not interested in me or Eve unless there’s something you can get out of it.”

Tawna picked up her cocktail, removed the straw and, drinking straight from the glass, knocked back the drink, including the sprig of mint which I’m sure she’d forgotten had been used as a garnish.

“If that’s what you really think, then I don’t know why you’re here,” she replied, before deliberately turning her back on me and clicking her fingers to get the attention of the barman.

I faced Eve, who was examining her nail varnish in a