"Yeah. Someone you met off the Internet?" Emily said. "Beth said you said it was complicated."

"It might have been complicated once, but it's all okay now," I said, smiling.

"So have you met him yet?" Emily leaned in closer, her eyes widening.

"Yeah. On Saturday," I said, choosing my words carefully.

"Ooooh!" Emily clapped her hands. "First Beth and Matt, now you and your mystery man. It's all happening, isn't it?"

"Seems to be, yeah," I said, nodding.

"So what's his name? Where does he live? What does he do for a living? C'mon, spill!" Emily looked at me in rapt attention.

"It's tricky," I said. "I mean, it's tricky to explain. Could be tricky to explain."

"God, he's not out on bail or something, is he?" Emily pulled a horrified face.

I laughed and looked down at my fingers, inspecting them as if my life depended on it. "No, nothing like that."

"If you don't want to tell me, it's cool," Emily said, raising her eyebrows, obviously not meaning it.

I fixed my gaze down at my coffee and my throat began to tighten.

"I just don't know how you're going to react, thassall," I said, swallowing hard.

Emily took a sip from her coffee and, grimacing, opened another sugar packet and sprinkled it in.

"So, what? Is he married? Bald? Bald and married?" Emily frowned, stirring her coffee. "Oh crap, he's not a Young Conservative, is he?"

"Nothing as bad as that!"

"So try me, Immy," she said. "I'm your mate. I love the bones of you. Whatever you tell me, it'll be cool, I promise."

"I've been so confused lately," I began, staring back down at my fingers. "And then this person came along and everything suddenly seemed so much clearer."

"Okay..."

"She's called Gemma, you see?" I looked up at Emily, trying to gauge her reaction. "Aaaaand we got talking and I realised that everything I was doing, or had been doing for the last God knows how many years, had been a lie."

Emily nodded. I carried on.

"And we talked a lot for like, jeez, three or four weeks and then, well, we kinda realised we both liked each other and, uh, we met up on Saturday and now we know we definitely like each other," I said, looking at Emily. "And suddenly my life makes sense."

"Did you like girls before you met her?" Emily asked carefully.

"Yeah, I think I did," I replied. "But I guess I'd ignored those feelings, you know? Meeting Gemma hit me like a thunderbolt, and I guess it's hard to ignore a thunderbolt when it comes and smacks you in the face."

"So Matt was...?" Emily asked, her voice trailing off.

"I think Matt was supposed to be my 'cure'," I replied. "I s'pose, I dunno, I s'pose I thought if I dated a guy, all my feelings towards women would disappear, that it would prove that they'd all just been phases."

"But they weren't?"

"No." Tears welled in my eyes and I clenched my jaw tightly. "And it's been so hard, you know?" I continued, my brow crumpling. "So hard living a lie, not being who I wanted to be because I didn't think it was right. And then Gemma came along and I got even more confused and unhappy, especially 'cos I was still seeing Matt at the time."

"If I'm honest, Immy, I did kinda wonder once or twice," Emily said, smiling.

"Really?" I wiped at my nose.

"Yuh-huh. I always kinda knew you weren't into the whole Matt idea." Emily twiddled her empty sugar packet in her fingers. She paused. "It must have been awkward."

"It was." I nodded. "And I feel such a cow for stringing Matt along when I had no feelings for him."

"At least you did the right thing with him, though," Emily said. "And it looks like he's got over it, doesn't it? I'm sure Beth's more than helping him with that." She winked at me and I laughed.

"I'm glad I told you," I said, tears pricking at my eyes again. "It's crap keeping stuff from friends."

"I'm glad you told me." Emily reached over and grabbed my hands. "I don't like to think you've been so unhappy."

"And you're okay about it?" I asked. "'Cos I know people can go a bit weird on you when you mention the gay word."

"I'm fine with it," Emily said. "This is the twenty-first century, Immy. Perhaps if we'd known each other, like, fifty years ago it might have been different, but thank God we've moved on from there, huh?"

I sniffed back tears.

"You can't help who you are or who you fall in love with, can you?" Emily carried on. "It's not as if you just woke up one day and decided to be gay just for the hell of it, is it?"

"No." I sighed, rubbing my eyes with the balls of my palms.

"And you're still you." Emily smiled. "You're still our lovely, sweet, silly, funny Immy. That'll never change."

"Silly?" I wiped my eyes.

"Sometimes." Emily shrugged. "And that's why we love you, you dope."

We sat in silence for a few moments, both of us processing what the other had been saying.

"So tell me about Gemma," Emily suddenly said.

I immediately pictured Fickle in my head.

"She's, well, she's just lovely," I said. "She's the same age as we all are, lives up in Leeds, uh, goes to college there too, and she's just the nicest person."

"Is she hot?" Emily whispered, leaning in closer.

"Yeah," I said, feeling my face redden slightly. "She is."

"You seeing her again soon?" Emily asked.

"Saturday after next, if all goes to plan." I drained my coffee cup. "I'm gonna be spending a fortune on train tickets!"

"But it'll be worth it, I bet." Emily squeezed my hands.

"Worth every penny." I sighed happily.

The week dragged on forever, seeming to know somehow that I couldn't wait for the weekend to come, so that I could have Fickle all to myself without any parental or college work interruptions. It was as if time deliberately went even slower just to piss me off, making me wait for my Fickle fix just that little bit longer.

We'd texted and spoken to each other pretty much every day, just fleeting moments throughout the week, but nothing was ever as good as when the weekends came and we could MSN long into the night.

I had been glad I'd been able to speak to Emily about Fickle, and even more glad that her reaction hadn't been the same as Twiggy's. It felt good to finally tell a "real" person about what had been going on inside my head for so long, and it felt as if a burden had been lifted from my shoulders.

A couple of days after my heart-to-heart with Emily, I found myself on MSN with Joey. She was online on the pretext of doing follow-up work from her Scotland trip, but I was soon telling her all about my chat with Emily.

Barnaby Rudge: It's like, I dunno, Joe, like I'm free for the first time in my life. Telling Emily the other day felt liberating.

Joey: Yeah, it's good to be able to tell someone. Sometimes being gay feels like a weight you gotta carry around with you all the time.

Barnaby Rudge: Cos, like, I told Twiggy and she was a bit off.

Joey: Off?

Barnaby Rudge: Yeah. She said she didn't come across many lesbians in her daily life and I think I weirded her out a bit.

Joey: You know what Twiggy's like. She doesn't like me talking about me being gay either so I figure if it makes her uncomfortable then just don't talk to her about it. I guess if she feels like she can't handle it, then why make her?

Barnaby Rudge: You think I embarrassed her?

Joey: Maybe. But that's for her to deal with, not you. Twiggy's just a bit old-fashioned, I think, even if she is only 24. Knowing her, she probably wears bloomers and rides around on a bloody penny farthing, but if she's led a sheltered life then she's not going to be 100 percent comfortable talking about something which, to you and me, is perfectly normal.

Barnaby Rudge: But it IS normal, Joe!

Joey: But it's OUR normal, not hers, Immy. Deal with it. You gotta accept that there's a small percentage of people that still don't think it's "right". Whatever the heck "right" is!

I looked at Joey's messages to me and sensed a kind of, I dunno, a kind of off-ishness with me. I frowned, wondering if my twittering on about Fickle recently had been getting on her nerves. Understandable, I supposed, considering all the shit she'd been going through with Claire.

Barnaby Rudge: I hope you don't mind me talking about Fickle all the time. I'm sorry if I do.

There was a long pause. I stared and stared at my screen, waiting for Joey to reply.

Joey: Nah, you're in love! What you gonna do? You're gonna wanna talk about her.

Barnaby Rudge: It's not pissing you off? I'm just glad I can talk to you as well as Emily about her.

Joey: It's what I'm here for, kiddo.

Just at that moment, Twiggy logged on, making Joey immediately send me a winking sign.

Joey: Remember, if she asks you how you are, don't tell her you're happy and gay. LOL!!!

Barnaby Rudge: LMAO, you neither, if she asks you!

Joey: That won't be difficult. Can't say I feel too happy ATM.

Barnaby Rudge: Oh? You okay?

Joey: Ach, I've been better. Never mind. Hang on, Twiggy's talking to me. BRB.

I sat back in my chair feeling, well, just a bit pissed off really. This was the second time recently Joey had snubbed me the second Twiggy had logged on, 'cos she'd done it, like, about a week before when I'd been chatting to her on MSN as well, and I didn't much like it. I hoped Joey wasn't bitching about me, about how fed up she was with me banging on about Fickle, then crossly told myself off. Joey wasn't like that. I might not know her as well as, say, Emily or Beth, but I'd been talking and texting her enough over the last month to know she wasn't like that.

I told myself not to be so damn paranoid and instead idly flicked my phone open, writing out a quick text to Fickle, just to say hi and to tell her I was thinking of her, and asking her if she'd be on MSN 'cos I was on there now. I glanced back at my screen, seeing Joey's last message to me there, and guessed she was still deep in conversation with Twiggy. Thinking that I really should start doing some college work rather than chatting, I brought up Google and starting typing some key words about the boring British bloody economy in, sighing as I remembered an assignment that needed finishing by the end of the month.

I was only five or so minutes into my research when boredom set in and the fancy of a chat set in again. I've never had much of an attention span; I figured I could add it to my list of faults.

Barnaby Rudge: Hey Twigs! How's you tonight?

I flicked back to Google and scribbled down some notes from a page that I'd found, then grinned as I saw my MSN conversation tag light up.

Twiggy: Hey BR! Long time, no speak! I'm good, yeah. You?

Barnaby Rudge: I'm good too! Glad for a distraction from work!

Twiggy: I'm talking to Joey. She told me you and Fickle met up then?

I read Twiggy's message and felt briefly taken aback at that. Twiggy and Joey were talking about me?

Barnaby Rudge: Yeah. Joey told you?

There was a long pause.

Twiggy: Oh, she wasn't gossiping! Just mentioned it in passing.

Barnaby Rudge: Right.

Why were they talking about me?

Twiggy: And it went okay then?

Barnaby Rudge: Yeah, real well.

Twiggy: And you both got on?

Barnaby Rudge: More than. Went better than I could ever have imagined.

A beep at my side drew my eyes away from the screen and to my phone. It was Fickle. I grinned, feeling the familiar soppy feeling I saw whenever I saw her name.

Hey u! it said. Soz, won't be on MSN 2night. Bit busy. Catch u 2moz, yeh? Love youuu xxxx My grin faded but I told myself not to be stupid. So Fickle was busy. Deal with it. She was at college just like I was; and if her course was anything like mine was, she'd be up to ears in work as well. I looked down at my assignment notes, all three lines of them, and sighed.