Shantrice from The East: The Anthology

(#WIP) Sinead & Dexter's Afterschool Chat [Interlude No. 01]

It's a Friday afternoon—3:30 to be precise—and Sinead Duruisseau is standing on the outer basketball court of Hermann G. Dunst Academy, checking her phone repeatedly. She has grown impatient waiting on the message she typically receives from Dexter around this time and has—peculiarly—found herself longing for them lately. Such a insignificant action when compared to everything else in her life but, in a paradoxical way, poignant.

Dexter's texts have been consistently punctual since the two began meeting up after school, coming through at 3:15 pm as if he has them scheduled. Sadly, that isn't the case today. Fed up, Sinead promptly starts typing furiously into her phone, composing a profanity-laden paragraph to send to him when she suddenly feels a tap on her shoulder from a bitterly cold finger, startling her half to death.

"AHHHH!" she yelps as she turns around and lays eyes on the person responsible, which turns out to be Dexter. She was ready to chastise him for making her wait so long, but noticed that he doesn't look at all joyful, so she reluctantly stifles her anger. "Well, I didn't expect you to show up unannounced. Are you okay? What happened to you texting me?"

"Shit! Yeah… I forgot about that. I'm sorry, Sin. It's been a pretty bad latter half of the day. Did I scare you or something? You look worried and tense," he nervously replies, twiddling his thumbs.

Dexter is on the money with his assessment. Sinead was indeed worried, having convinced herself that something had happened to him, like maybe Bentley had shoved him in the toilet like he did three weeks ago, or that Shannon and the other football players (minus Chadwick) had jumped on him again. Yet, she didn't want him to know that because she knew he was insecure about being bullied.

Dexter is a relic in these modern times, holding steadfast to the notion that it detracts from his manliness to look weak in front of her and be open about his feelings. He'd much rather put on an air of stolidity and be reticent, though she knows it eats him up inside to do so.

Hoping to add some mirth to the gloomy situation, Sinead incorporates a meme into her reply, "I mean, you certainly did me the real big frighten just now, but I'm in better spirits since you're finally here." She momentarily pauses and waits for Dexter to laugh, but he remains inexpressive. Realizing that was a mistake, she continues, though she's now overcome by awkwardness. "Although, I gotta admit, I am a tad disappointed. You're always so timely, so I can't help but wonder what makes today worse than any other day? All things being considered, I mean."

"Really? That's how you feel?" Dexter says, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and disappointment. His face contorts into a frown, and he can't help but roll his eyes as Sinead's words hit him like a cinderblock to the gut. His initial instinct is to defend himself, arguing against the unfair accusations being hurled his way. But as quickly as the words form on his lips, Dexter realizes that engaging in an argument with Sinead right now may not be the best course of action. "This is fucked up. I shou–" Dexter immediately cuts himself off.

Hesitation has now grabbed ahold of him, squeezing tightly. The tension between them is palpable, and he senses that any attempt at resolving the situation could escalate into an emotional battleground. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he decides it's best to retract his statement.

"On second thought, nevermind," he mutters. The frustration is evident in his voice. He inhales deeply, subtly shaking his head to clear away the heated emotions. "Just forget I even said anything." His voice trails off, as a sense of defeat washes over him.