Chapter Seventeen
I spend Sunday and Monday in bed, snivelling, shaking, dosing myself with all the flu medication I can find in the bathroom cabinet, and tossing the ‘Matt or no Matt’ question around my head. By the time Tuesday arrives, I’m dreading it for more than one reason. One, I hate New Year’s Eve because I’m always pressured into going to some great big social event I feel one hundred and fifty percent awkward at. Two, I’ve decided what to do about Matt—and I’m pretty sure it’s going to land me in the middle of another massive argument before I get to finally say goodbye. I know Matt, and he is not the type to go down without a fight.
Now that my body’s functioning normally again and recognises that we’re still in the middle of a hellishly hot summer, I stuff all my germ-covere
