Virgin. Radhika Sanghani

hate pop music? Sometimes I just want to embrace my inner mainstream self. In fact,’ she said as she raised her glass in the air, ‘here’s to not being cool and not giving a fuck.’

      We clinked our glasses together laughing and she called the waiter to bring us more cocktails. He was young and cute, and I shot him my most flirtatious smile but he didn’t seem to notice. Emma, meanwhile, was beyond subtle smiles and eye contact. She flirted openly with him, and wrote her number on the bill when we paid two hours later. When we left, she winked at him and he grinned back at her.

      ‘I can’t believe you did that, Emma. You’re so brave,’ I lisped as we left the pub.

      She laughed. ‘He was so cute I had no choice. My inner lust for him was so overpowering that I just fell prey to my desires. Here’s hoping he calls….’

      ‘Will you care if he doesn’t?’

      ‘God, no! He’s a waiter in a bar. There are hundreds of those all over London. Who cares if one of them doesn’t fancy me back? He might have a girlfriend already, or be gay—except I do have a pretty good gaydar—or he might just not like blondes.’

      ‘You’re my new idol, Emma,’ I said as I tripped over a jagged paving stone.

      ‘Oh-kaaay, little lady, that’s good to know. But I reckon we should get you home before you throw up all over your new idol.’

      ‘I’m not that drunk,’ I said, as she bundled me into a cab and told the cab driver an address that wasn’t mine. I laid my head on her furry leopard-print coat and closed my eyes.