Simon, you know I dont enjoy these endless gatherings, and I barely know your friends, and honestly, I dont have much patience for people, Emily said.
Emily, no one can force you to like my mates. Its just one night, thats all, Simon replied.
Usually Peter drives everyone because hes the only one who doesnt drink, but even hes caught a cold this time the party cant be cancelled.
We normally meet up as a whole every three months. Please, help me out, love, Simon begged.
Emily relented. It wouldnt be difficult for her to attend as a plusone for one of the guests.
By Simons own count there were three other plusones besides her, so she wouldnt look completely out of place stuck in a corner with her phone, barely joining the conversation.
Maybe Ill drive after the party and ferry everyone home? she suggested, trying to avoid actually staying.
If it were that simple wed just book a taxi. The city centre would be jammed anyway, and youd have to come through it regardless, Simon said.
She hadnt considered the fact that Simon had devised an entire schedule for who would be taken where, assuming some of the group would stay over at friends flats in the suburbs to avoid the rush hour traffic through the city centre.
The plan was to head to his parents countryside house after the night, then return to town in the morning when the streets were clear.
Darling, everything will be fine. Youll like my friends theyre decent folks, Simon promised, though his words were far from guaranteed.
Most of Simons companions were former university classmates or work colleagues. You dont expect wild behaviour from people who consider themselves respectable, even if life can throw oddities at you. So Emily, after meeting the lot, decided that the night might not be as terrible as shed feared. Instead of hiding in a corner, she found herself joining the chatter.
Someone asked about her education, another about her job, and a young woman in a stylish dress clearly married, with a ring on her finger asked a pointed question about Simons eating habits. Simon, where have you been stuffing yourself with sweets that you now crave stale bread with mould? she exclaimed loudly, making sure everyone heard.
Emily caught the drift and replied dryly, Probably hes tired of shallow flings where you have to polish the surface before you can even see whats underneath.
A man seated to Emilys right laughed, Right, Laura, youre obvious, but weve already forgotten what you look like! Laura glared at Emily but let the barb drop. Another guest, eager to find a fault, turned to Emilys lack of a university degree, launching a harsh retort that made it clear she was not to be messed with.
Simon then asked the woman to step outside for a moment. As they left the restaurant, he began scolding Emily for not knowing how to behave and for embarrassing him in front of his friends.
Wait, you have no questions for my friends? Not even about the women? Emily asked, surprised.
Theyre just joking, you could have taken it less seriously, Simon defended.
Sure, theyre joking. Does that mean I cant joke back? Emily shot back, sensing a difficult conversation waiting at home.
Trying to change the subject, Emily returned to the table and, at the urging of one of the girls, ordered a salad shed never tried before her excuse to stay.
What did you order? Look at you, trying to be all fancy, Laura sneered, wobbling on her heels.
Come on, ease up a bit, Max muttered, halfamused.
When Emily lifted her phone to photograph the dish, Laura twisted the salad with chopsticks, ruining its presentation.
Did you lose your sense of direction? Emily snapped, her appetite gone.
Even if I did, whats it to you? Laura shot back.
Are you just going to stay silent? Emily pressed Simon, who pretended nothing was wrong.
Emma, youll have to choose me or this crowd, Max said, addressing another girl who had watched the scene with a grin, egging on both Laura and the other bully.
Emily felt like shed been thrust back into schoolyard politics, where decorum and proper behaviour were foreign concepts. She knew exactly how to handle bullies a lesson her grandfather had taught her long ago, though he never explained where he learned it.
At twentyeight, she had outgrown school fights, but the instinct remained useful. She quickly tipped the salad onto Lauras elegant dress.
Sorry, Im so clumsy, Emily murmured, then grabbed Lauras arm, twisting it in a way that sent a sharp pain through her.
From the outside it seemed a harmless scuffle, but Emily knew how to apply just enough pressure to make a point without causing serious injury. Her grandfathers selfdefence training had stuck with her through the years.
The restaurants staff barely noticed, the room full of noisy diners, glasses clinking, and laughter drowning out the commotion.
I might just flip you onto the table upside down, and with these glasses around, one stray shard could, Max threatened.
Youre insane, Simon whispered, pale as Laura.
Its not me, its life. Nice meeting your friends, but I see no point in staying, Emily said, finally letting go of Lauras arm.
Laura, now sobbing, tried to wipe tears from her cheek. Dont be dramatic, youll be fine by morning. Next time you might not be so lucky, so stay away from strangers. Good night, everyone, she hissed before stumbling out.
Wait, you were supposed to give us a lift, Anna called after her.
I owe you nothing. You should have thought about getting home before planning this night. Im leaving my keys in the postbox, Emily replied and walked out, leaving Simons world behind.
A month later she unexpectedly ran into Max, who confessed he had broken up with Anna. Unlike his former circle, he didnt make jokes at peoples expense. Emily agreed to go on a date with him and another, and another. Their pasts faded as they built something new.
In the end, Emily realised that the only people whose opinions truly mattered were her own. She learned that standing up for herself, even in the most uncomfortable of gatherings, is the surest way to keep her dignity intact. The real lesson was simple: never let others dictate your worth; your confidence is the compass that will always guide you home.
