One A Day: Delayed (Continued)

I started ‘Delayed’ the other day, as a one off piece, but seeing this broken glass today inspired me to take it further. It’s keeping this name for the time being, although if I find I want to keep on writing about these characters, a title change is definitely on the cards as this one is positively shite.

Delayed – (Continued)

We’ve been going steady for a couple of months, now, me and Kell. She’s mentioned the ex a few times, but we haven’t bumped into him yet. I chucked my bong out the other day and sold my weed when Kell said she didn’t want anything to do with that stuff anymore. Course, she said I could still do it if I wanted to. She had nothing against that. But, if I’m being honest, it doesn’t seem all that appealing now. I can do without it, no probs. She didn’t make a scene when I told her what I’d done with it, but she made her appreciation shown in a number of other ways.

“You still with that bird?” I wipe the dust on the TV screen my t-shirt, but it just clumps in the middle and makes it look worse than it did before I wiped it.

“Kelly, yeah. Why?” Dan has been in a pissy mood since I told him I’d chucked the bong and sold the weed to someone in college.

“She’s just not your type, y’know, our type.” He unscrews a battered wheel off his Mischief board and rubs a cloth around the new one. “Y’know. She doesn’t skate, she doesn’t do gigs, she doesn’t go to Art College. What the fuck does she do anyway?”

“I don’t see your lass doing any of those things.”

“Yeah, but that’s because my lass is into burlesque. She’s got a show coming up next month.” Dan never fucking shuts up about his lass and her stripping. If it’s not her tits he’s going on about, its how he can get’s his hands around her waist and how mint it feels holding her when he’s banging her up the arse. The only time he has something negative to say is when she’s asked him to dye her roots, but even then it’s no more than an attack on the dye that’s stained his fingernails. “You can come if you want, to the burlesque night, but I’d leave your lass at home. I don’t think she’d really fit in and I don’t reckon she’d be that thrilled to see with a hard on when you’re watching Lolly. They’d rip her apart in there. You know what everybody’s like with the sport brands, fake tan and ‘the’ socks.”

“She doesn’t wear her fucking socks like you think she does.”

“Yeah, whatever. Maybe not when you’re around her.” He finishes screwing the new wheel on his board. “Right, I’m off. Oh, have you seen my watch, by the way? If not, would you mind asking your lass? She probably put it in her pocket by accident. Cheers lad.” I ignore his goodbyes and keep my eyes on the screen, but I’m overwhelmed by zombie nurses in a record time and die a miserable, gory death.

“Fucking dick!” I turn the Play Station off with my fist and the door goes.

“Hiya babe.” Kell smells of cake.

“Is Dan in?” She opens her Adidas satchel, pulls out a neatly folded leaflet and passes it to me. “Noticed this when I was in town. Dan might be interested…or maybe not, because he’s probably already heard of it. Just this new skate shop in Sunderland.” I kiss her hair. I want to eat it it smells that good.

“Nah babe, he probably hasn’t. I’ll leave it here for him.”

“He doesn’t mind me coming around here does he? I mean, I’ve noticed the way he looks at me.”

“There’s no issue, babe.”

“K.” She doesn’t look entirely convinced. “We still going down to Spoons then?”

“Yeah.” I kiss her face and hands. Her rings are cold against my mouth. “The world is made of two things today, me and you.”

“Three things,” she says. “Me, you and the burger and bear deal!”

The bar is packed out. “We should have got a pizza and stayed in,” Kell mutters. I kiss her nose.

“I said we could have a beer and burger. That’s what we’re going to have, even if we’re waiting here until midnight.” She snuggles up to me and puts her hand in the back pocket of my jeans. Slowly, people at the bar migrate to tables and we’re being served.

“Fuck me. I don’t believe it.” Kell’s hand freezes on my hip. “It’s you!” A bloke, arms the size of goal posts turns to us, face on. He has a tattoo of a machete on his thick neck. “I told you not to come back in here, this is my watering hole.” I move Kell behind me. It’s difficult; she’s stiff as a corpse. “You we’re never supposed to come back here, ever.”

“And why’s that?” I say. The bloke squares up and puts down both his pints.

“Because this is where the bitch fucked me over, isn’t it Kelly?” The bar staff are making an attempt to ignore what’s going on and herd everyone to the far end of the bar. Kell is whimpering into the back of my T-shirt. The bloke finishes one pint and moves me to one side. I hardly even notice, and he has Kell, my brave, soft soul by the scruff of her hoody. I stagger after them. He’s hit her with his empty beer glass before I’m even out the door.

To be continued. Probably.

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