'I just can't believe you're making us do this, Kit,' Ed is saying when I walk into the other flat, without knocking. After a week of living in this house, I'm starting to get used to the casual easiness these friends have with each other.

Sylvie is making chilli and the whole flat smells deliciously of simmering onions. Her hair today is long and effortlessly wavy, with bits pushed back to reveal the pretty piercings in her ears.

'Making us do what?' I ask Ed. He's wearing a lurid patterned button-up and chino trousers, but it works for him. The sleeves are rolled up to expose his arms, which are freckled and covered with ginger hair. He's sitting on the grey sofa, hugging a cushion. Next to him, Will is absorbed in a book and doesn't seem to notice anyone around him. Today he's wearing a t-shirt with a picture of Louis Theroux printed with the words "Gotta get Theroux this."

'She's making us go to this lame club night,' Harper says. He's straddling a dining chair, his arms tensed and muscular against the wooden back. 'Just because a guy she likes is DJing.' He looks pointedly at Kitty, who stares back at him.

I sit down across from Kitty and Harper at the dining table. I can tell, just from Kitty's surprised expression, that this is not what they were just talking about, but they clearly don't want to let me in on their conversation.

'Oh, yeah,' Kitty says, brightly. 'Next Saturday night. His set doesn't start 'til like 12. You guys have to come. I can't go alone.'

'I'll be there after 1, babe,' Charlotte says. 'Can you get us free entry?'

'Uh, maybe.'

Charlotte rolls her eyes. 'I'll talk to some people. I'll get us free entry.'

'You always get girls free entry and we have to pay,' Ed grumbles.

'How was work, doll?' Kitty asks me as she stands up from the table.

'She's better than when you started, Kit,' Ed butts in.

Kitty fakes offence and then blows Ed a kiss, before looking back to me. 'Was it okay?'

'Yeah, it was fine, thanks,' I say, watching Kitty twirl in her long flowing skirt, to join Sylvie in the kitchen.

'Who wants tea?' Kitty asks the room.

'When you say tea...' Harper says.

'Green rose tea,' Kitty says.

'I'll have some,' I say, and Kitty nods before looking at the others. She boils the kettle, then opens a tin of loose leaf green tea with dried rose petals.

Kitty brings the teapot to the table, and pours green tea into a set of coloured glass tumblers. She hands one to Sylvie without asking, and Sylvie places her long-nailed hands around the cup. She sips at it as she cooks.

Sylvie serves up vegetarian chilli, and we each load up a plate with rice and chilli and settle on the sofas and at the table, barely fitting. We eat in silence, the only sound the 1975 playing through Spotify and the clinking of cutlery on plates.

When we're finished, Charlotte stands up and collects plates. I want to show that I'm happy to help out, so I stand up too and join her at the sink. I scrape a few remaining scraps into the bin while she fills up the sink with water.

'It's okay, babe, I've got it,' Charlotte says, and there's not much I can do while she's standing at the sink washing up, so I find a tea towel and wipe down the plates. I find where they go in a cupboard and stack them away.

Kitty puts the kettle on again, and while she's in the kitchen she starts dancing. Charlotte joins as she's washing up and wiping down benches, and I watch the way the two of them dance together so easily, while I fumble around trying to find the drawer where the knives go.

Will, bothered by the music, retreats to our flat to read, and Ed says he's going for a walk. I hear him in the hall, putting on boots and his coat, before he leaves. The girls dance, but I clutch onto the dregs of my tea and sit on the sofa, watching them, and glancing at my phone to see if I have any new messages.

At first I think Harper is reading, but when I sneak a quick glance at him I realise he's writing in his little blue notebook. 'What are you writing?' I murmur across to him, trying not to attract the attention of the girls.

'Nothing interesting,' he tells me flatly, without looking up.

'Come on,' I say, trying to be playful.

He just shrugs, slips the little blue book into his pocket, and then looks up at me. He pulls one of his giant grins, but for the first time I think it almost looks forced.

I sip at my tea and watch the girls dancing. Charlotte, Sylvie and Kitty join hands and spin, laughing, as Harper and I watch. When I've finished my tea I stand up, squeezing awkwardly past the girls to wash up my cup in the sink, before muttering something about going to bed to read.

I back out of the flat and across the hall to my own flat. In the kitchen I make myself a hot chocolate with pink marshmallows on top and take it to bed with me. I arrange the hot chocolate on top of my "How to be Parisian" hardcover, take off my rose gold watch and lay it beside it. Then, I grab my vanilla candle, light it, and place it at an angle beside the hot chocolate. But when I try to take a photo the lit candle ruins the exposure, so I blow the candle out, readjust my bedside table lamp, and stand on my bed to get the right angle.

When I'm finally happy with the picture I upload it to Instagram, adjusting the brightness. I'm scrolling through Instagram, looking at my old friends' photos from university when I realise I haven't even started drinking the hot chocolate yet. It's lukewarm.

My ex still hasn't viewed my most recent Instagram story - a shot of my pink running shoes on frosty grass, with the filter reading 4 degrees Celsius. The last message I sent to him remains without a reply.

I open up the group chat I have with the girls and message, "Hey girls, how are you? So sorry I haven't been messaging much, so busy in London! How are things? Hope studying is going well xx."

I watch the read receipts come in, but the three of them don't reply.

• Author's Note •

Thanks for reading this chapter. Don't forget to vote before you go on.

Now, my question for you is...

Do you have a group messenger/whatsapp chat? And does it have a hilarious name?

elle xx