Calling The Ex

Spring-Summer 2010

 “And you want me to help you, why?”

The sixth former towers over us, arms folded over his large body. His hair has gone darker (by the looks of it, naturally, not by being coloured), he now wears contact lenses (good, no more clashing spectacles, even though they would probably fit with the colour of his hair now, like two pieces of the wrong jigsaw) and he seems to be getting more muscle at that new school of his, but apart from that, Daniel Swift looks just like he was a year ago: dazzling, cheeky grin, hazel eyes sparkling and Russell & Bromley outfitted feet always tapping away to some imaginary beat.

“Because Ezme doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s drifting away from sanity, like a log out to sea-” We respond indignantly.

“Okay, enough of your metaphors-” He interrupts, not caring very much.

“That was a simile, actually.”

“Do I look like I care, girly?” Daniel’s American accent suddenly becomes more pronounced, as though he was trying to conceal it beforehand.

“The thing is, she cheated, and then she brushed me off when I took her back. It’s silly, little girl rudeness, and I’ve moved on now.”

“Daniel, she never kissed that Kevin, or anybody else for that matter, and I don’t believe you’ve moved on.”

“Oh yeah?” He lifts out a black-covered iPhone from one of his pockets, flicks through the contacts, and then passes the mobile over, “Ring my girlfriend if you don’t believe me.”

After a tempted hesitation, we decline.

“Okay, Daniel,” Shona butts in, using all her powers of persuasion that she’s learnt in the Model United Nations conferences, “If you’re not willing to go out with Ezme again, then at least tell her you’re sorry for what Bernice did, and ask to become her ‘manager’ again. It’s the least you can do to get Ezme back on her feet again, and give her more confidence. If you believe in her, then she’ll understand that we all do.”

“Okay, maybe I’ll talk to her…” He paused, still going over the input of Shona’s speech. “Hang on, what did Bernice do, again?”

“She’s a bully. In our own year!”

“Not my sis, she’s as sweet as pie, girlies.”

Emma narrows her eyes, “Believe me, Dan, she can be really mean sometimes.”

“It’s really not like her, I promise… But I’ll have a word anyway.”

“Cheers,” we almost push him out of the classroom, “Ezme’ll be in with form 10C…”

The End

105 comments about this story Feed