We got out of the taxi after paying and did the brief walk of shame back to Steisy's place, shutting ourselves into her room and changing into more comfortable clothes.
"Thirteen calls," she gasped. "Five from Jairo, two from Afri, six from Esme. God."
"Screw them," I giggled, but when I switched mine on I saw a staggering eighteen calls. My heart dropped into my belly. Six from the girls, four from my mother for some strange reason, and eight from Aaron. He couldn't ask me for the Gucci tracksuit back, at least. I'd sweet-talk him and he'd forget all about it.