'Ronnie? You home?' I called as I walked into my apartment. Well I say mine – I actually share it with my best friend Veronica (except you never, under any circumstances, call her that – it's always Ronnie) and her cousin Anna-Maria – supposedly named after two Roman Catholic saints, but I've never met anyone less saintly in all my life. Anyway, as I walked in I found Ronnie frantically searching everywhere. Clothes were spread all over the carpet and Ronnie was in the process of pulling more out of her wardrobe and showering them everywhere. The apartment was a complete mess.

'Ronnie! What the hell are you doing?' I cried. I had only tidied the damn place yesterday!

'Have you seen my Versace heels anywhere? They're my favourite smart heels, and I have a meeting with the Head Of Faculty in about 30 minutes!'

This is the point where I have two things to mention. Firstly, the whole of Ronnie's family is obscenely rich, which is why she can afford designer shoes, and come to that, designer anything. Secondly, seeing as she has all these really nice clothes, and we're the same size, now and again I borrow some stuff from her wardrobe. The particular heels she was talking about were the ones I had worn a couple of weeks back when she went to visit her parents for the weekend. The short story is, I went out with people from my Theatre course, got extremely drunk, and lost one shoe and snapped the heel of the other. But there was no-way I was telling her this. Not in a million years.

'Erm, would Anna-Marie have borrowed them?' I muttered guiltily. But we both knew that would never happen, as Anna-Marie had a wardrobe twice the size of Ronnie's (and believe me, Ronnie's wasn't small) and probably owned hundreds of Versace heels – why would she steal Ronnie's when she could easily go out and buy her own?

'No, she hasn't. Did you borrow them?'

See, that would have been a good time to fess up. But seeing as she was glaring daggers at me and had a very pointy high heel in her hand, I didn't feel all that comfortable with confessing.

'No, I wouldn't take your stuff without asking! Do you want a drink or something?' I asked her, trying to distract her from my guilty tone and expression.

'Sure' she said as she flopped onto the sofa. 'Can you get me a coke?'

So as we sat down drinking our cokes, we discussed why on earth the Dance Performance Head Of Faculty would want to see her. And then we got on to my day

'He did what?' she exclaimed as I told her about Will's behaviour. 'Come on Claudia, he's a jerk, you've got to ditch him!'

Ronnie was the only person who knew what Will was really like. Sure, other people had sometimes seen him ignoring me, but they figured it was just a normal relationship argument, and I wasn't about to set them straight. I didn't want them to think I was failing, to think that I couldn't handle Will. To be honest, everyone thought we were the perfect couple, and I liked that. But we all know that appearances can be deceptive…

'Look Ron, I love him. We've been going out for like a year and a half now – I want to make this work. And he's taking me out tonight. You never know he might actually mean it this time – he might actually change. I've got to give him another chance...he's all I've got going for me right now'

'Phhht, There's more chances of pig's flying than him changing his ways'

'Please Ronnie – just drop it. I need you behind me on this one' I pleaded.

'Oh okay hun. But don't say I didn't warn you.'

'Thanks Ron' I said, smiling with relief. I hated arguing with Ronnie.

'No problem. Now, if you help me find some other shoes to go with this outfit, I'll lend you something from my wardrobe for your date tonight…'