Valerie

3 - Val

'Prick' = Worthless asshole

'Stag-do' = Bachelor party

GCSEs and A levels = British secondary school and sixth form qualifications

"I think he likes you." I nearly fell straight onto my painful ass at Mable's comment. We were still skating on the rink, and I have to admit, I was having a bit of fun. Even if this sport reminded me of ballet.

"Who?"

Mable rolled her eyes. "Thomas." She said it like it was obvious. "He smiled at you, you know." I gave her a disbelieving look. "When you weren't looking." She added.

"I smile at waiters in restaurants. It doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah well he keeps on looking over here." Not at me. I thought. With my B-cups, tiny ass and average face, I couldn't imagine what he was looking at.

"Yeah well he's a prick." I grumbled.

"I know, I know. All I'm saying is that its weird. It's a known fact that Thomas Verner hates everyone but he actually smiled at something you said."

"I wish he wouldn't." I was now in a bad mood. The guy knocks me over, ruins one of my most prized possessions, doesn't apologise when I did, pretends to not know me or worse, doesn't even remember the whole affair, and then smiles at me. He can fuck right off.

"And I didn't know you sat next to him in class!" She whisper-shouts when we drift closer to the guys.

"If it was up to me, we wouldn't! But he sat next to me."

"See! Even more proof!"

"Proof of what exactly?" She just smiled smugly at me and shrugged.

I was liking this activity a lot less now.

After a few minutes of skating in silence, Mable said gently, "That phone's been ringing for a while now, hasn't it?"

I didn't say anything. What could I say? When I didn't reply, she said, "Val?"

"Yeah, I guess it has." I offered. 

"Why haven't you picked it up then?"

"I've just been busy." I half shrugged, skating a bit faster to keep up with her.

"Val. You can tell me anything. You know this."

"I know." I sighed. It was true, Mable was the only person I had on this continent and she knew more things about me than my own brother did.

"Is it because it could be him calling?" She asked softly. I stiffened and as a result nearly fell over. "Look, I don't know what happened to you back in London but I need you to talk to me."

"I know, I'm sorry." And I genuinely was. She cared about me, actually cared about me. It was an unfamiliar feeling but welcomed nonetheless.

"It could be your brother calling, you know?"

"Hey, I thought we were meant to be having fun after my bad morning." I said, trying to lighten the mood and not-so-subtly change the subject.

"Yeah, yeah you're right." She said, rolling her eyes. She pretended to push me and I veered back at the last second before she caught me and we burst into fits of laughter.

---

A week or so had passed in the same routine. I would wake up, go to school, studiously ignore Thomas, go home and ignore the red phone that persistently rung.