“I could have died right there,” my friend Kim announces. Christ everything is drama with this chic. ” Just right there, not anywhere else?” I offer sarcastically. He’s just a guy. Matthew Cole is just a guy, yet suddenly her whole world revolves around getting his attention. “What happened to Womens independence, Feminism,playing hard to get,” I snap. Then I could have died right there. Literally I could have let the ground swallow me up. Kim fixes me with an arctic grey stare, drags her hair up and shoves it into a tidy little bun. She gets that look on the hockey pitch, when she wants to fight someone. Her chestnut hair wild like a stallions mane, her voluptuous mouth set in a firm line. I step back, to create some space between us, the wind is like razors out here in the playground and the care taker hasn’t come yet. ” what is it with you?”
She tosses back. Finally shoving her hands into her blue puffer jacket pockets. “Red jeans today huh? That’s different.” The words slip out like oil.
” who are you? And what have you done with my friend?” Kim snaps.
I think about what my mum used to say, before I’d be made to sit in the corner whilst she studied my friend Kim with crow eyes. “There’s something special about this girl, you know.” Was I jealous. Of her attraction to tall, dark, razor sharp wit, and crystal eyes Matthew Cole? I hated it. It was like she was a different person when guys come into the picture. On the surface it always looks like jealousy I’m bookish with thin blonde hair, I let it grow to my knees because mom was obsessed with me cutting it in a style like the 80’s. “Grow it, or rock it that’s what you do honey.”
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