Yeah - that makes sense…

You wince, imagining it. ‘Yeah. Sorry. I do get that, honestly, and I probably shouldn’t have met up with her in the first place. I guess I was just…’ Your voice trails off, hoping that somehow she’ll understand. ‘I was feeling really down, and really lonely, and I needed a friend.’

Emma nods abruptly. ‘Okay. Just give me a minute, all right?’

When she turns back around, maybe thirty seconds later, most of the anger has faded and she looks in control of herself. ‘Call her, please. I need to hear this from her as well. And then… we’ll see.’

You have your phone out in a moment, speeding through the contacts until you find her. ‘Pick up, please pick up,’ you mutter as it dials.

The first time, it rings all the way through then falls silent. ‘Just let me try one more time,’ you say rapidly, hitting redial and praying to any and all gods out there to cut you a fucking break.

Someone must have been listening, because on the penultimate ring, Emma Stone picks up.

‘Hello?’ You can hear the street in the background, and you let out a long sigh of relief, punching the button to put it on speaker. ‘James, is that you?’

‘Yeah,’ you say, finding it hard to look at your Emma for some reason. ‘Sorry, I know this is out of the blue. It’s just – Em and I got back together last night, and I –’

‘Well, fuck yeah, man!’ Emma Stone laughs warmly. ‘What’d I tell you? Confidence is everything. And the ability to apologise, that’s also kind of useful.’

You chance a look up at your Emma, who’s standing with her arms folded, listening intently.

‘Listen… hey, can you do me a massive favour?’ You’re not sure exactly how to phrase this, but with Emma Watson standing right in front of you, you don’t really have a choice but to keep going. ‘The thing is – someone took a photo of me and you at the coffee shop, and they obviously sold it to some shitty magazine, because now I’m on the cover as a love rat –’

Emma Stone laughs again, husky and relaxed. ‘Yeah, I saw that. Just ignore it, man. They’d grind us up if they could to sell papers.’

‘I know that, but –’ You hiss a breath through your lips. ‘The thing is, Emma saw it – my Emma, the other Emma – and she’s not sure what to believe, exactly…’

There’s a pause.

‘Oh, shit.’ You can practically hear her wincing. ‘Oh, shitballs. Yeah. I can see how that might look bad. Is she there? Can I speak to her?’