Tell her the truth...

‘Actually…’ you sigh. Maybe it’s the ****, or maybe it’s the feeling of having been floating along blissfully in a hot air balloon that’s just been violently punctured, but you find yourself telling her the story of how you met Emma Watson. (You leave out the sex and the reason she was running away, but otherwise it’s pretty truthful.)

By the time you’ve finished, Emma Stone is cracking up. ‘Seriously?’ she cackles, and you feel yourself smiling unwillingly. ‘You bought the girl pizza? You are my kind of man, I swear…’

That, weirdly, makes you feel better than just about anything else she could have said. ‘What?’ you retort. ‘Worked, didn’t it? She kissed me!’

‘Oh, sure,’ Emma chuckles. ‘To be fair, that’d probably work on a lot more girls than you think. But, seriously –’ she leans in confidentially, ‘you’re an Uber driver? That’s fucking mad! Respect, man.’ She offers you her fist, and you bump it, surprised.

‘Nothing wrong with driving Uber,’ you feel obliged to point out. Emma laughs.

‘Oh, yeah, I know! It’s just crazy that you had the balls to pick her up. Well, I mean, pick her up and then pick her up, if you know what I’m saying.’ She winks unexpectedly, and you find yourself deciding that you like Emma Stone. She reminds you of the girls you used to hang out with back in high school – smart, snarky, and not above taking the piss out of herself.

‘Thanks,’ you shrug. ‘Still can’t believe it actually happened. Well…’ You exhale slowly. ‘Guess maybe it was always gonna end up like this.’

Emma Stone gives you a funny look. ‘End up like what? You don’t know if anything’s happened yet. And to be honest, I’m thinking maybe we should give them the benefit of the doubt. I mean, you know her and I don’t, but… I don’t feel like Emma Watson’s the cheating type.’