Release by Louise J Page A

that went
into it. I don’t blame her. I chomp into my lunch, without really tasting it.
    “I can’t believe he would
even try to talk to you after what he did,” Leona says. “How arrogant is that?”
    “He’s a cunt! Thankfully, I
rarely encounter him and it’s the first time I’ve been that near to him since
it happened.”
    “I’m not going tomorrow,” I
announce. “I feel proper sick with myself for even giving someone like Dane a
chance. No way am I gonna let that man mug me off.” I stand up. “I’ll be back
in a bit.”
    Leaving the apartment block,
I dash across the street and make the short walk along Franklin. Working out in
my mind exactly what I’m going to say, I turn onto Bush Street. I’m going to
tell Dane I’m not going tomorrow and that– shit. I freeze in place as Dane
walks out of his shop with another man. Hoping he doesn’t look this way and see
me, I pivot around and speed walk back in the direction I just came from.
    How am I actually supposed
to stand in front of the guy and say I don’t want to see him again? I took one
look at him and knew I still want to. At some point today I need to question my
sanity, because this whole thing is fucking insane.
    He shags around and doesn’t do girlfriends.
    I love shagging –
when it’s part of a relationship .
    I don’t just fuck!
    Dane does!
    This is ridiculous.
    When I enter the kitchen,
Kayla and Leona are still at the table, doing their nationality switch – Kayla
becomes British, Leona becomes American. I usually find it highly entertaining.
Frustrated with myself, I sit on the chair I left vacant literally about five
minutes ago.
    “Where did you go?” Kayla
asks.
    “I was going to tell Dane to
forget it. He only went and walked out onto the street. I lost my nerve and
turned back.”
    Leona chuckles with her
mouth full of food. She forces it down with a large swallow. “I can imagine it;
you walking out there with all that attitude you left here with, one look at
him and you leg it back.” She laughs again, and I sort of do, too. “As I said,
Brooklyn, the choice is yours.”
    Get to know me.
Form your opinion of me. See where things go from there.
    Straight from the horse’s
mouth, and I couldn’t have put it better myself.
    I’ll do that, and I’ll do it
armed with the knowledge I have of him.

Eight:
Brooklyn
    The jingle of the alarm on my phone, a stupid upbeat chime
that’s supposed to wake me without annoying me, yanks me from my sleep. It’s
sooo flipping annoying.
    After I stop the noise, I
lay motionless. I realize I’m at that point where, if I don’t open my eyes now,
I’ll fall back to sleep and wake up in two hours. Throwing the duvet off of me,
I drag myself out of bed and head for the bathroom.
    Last night I spent quite
some time thinking about what to wear. Yesterday was a little over the top,
wrapped up in those baggy clothes, but I’m still not going to flash my flesh or
body shape with Dane. I did notice him still checking me out, so I’m not
completely safe from his roaming eyes. Mine appreciatively roamed as well, so I
can’t exactly complain.
    When required, I have used
my body to the max. What female doesn’t when they want to bag a man they have
their eye on? But with Dane that’s not what I’m going to do, not at this stage.
Today I’m wearing a pink jumper and faded, loose-fitting jeans. The finishing
touches are a ponytail, some strokes of black mascara, and a thin layer of lip
gloss. Warm jacket on, and I’m out the door.
    The cold, foggy air ensures
that I’m definitely wide awake. By the time I get to the Purple Cafe I feel
human, hopefully that means I look human. I arrive a few minutes early and
linger outside, strolling back and forth by the side of the building.
    Oh, the nerves are kicking
in. They started with a slight acceleration of my heartbeat, now I’m fidgeting
and I’m slightly hot, even though it’s a chilly morning. I’m not sure I like
the effect Dane has