Chapter 6

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So, that was when I decided I hated Ronan Blake.

And he's managed to convince me to stick to that resolve, even though I haven't properly spoken to him in a few years - wouldn't want to be caught talking to a boy two years older than you, don't ya know.

There have been many incidents, such as the time he left a pair of handcuffs laying about when I had to go to his house for a 'friendly get together'.
Needless to say, I was stuck in those bracelets for a while.

Or, the time he used a thong as a catapult. No, I don't know how he got it. All I know is that one minute I was laughing with my girls, and the next I had a pink, lacy womanly garment on my face. Charming.

The sick boy wouldn't stop laughing every time he saw me for weeks, asking if I'd 'found anything nice lately'. Ugh.

I even owe my new hair to him.

No, as much as I love my hair as it looks now, it wasn't my choice. The devil was messing about with a flaming marshmallow at a bonfire held for my dad's birthday.

He swung the cocktail stick, which just so happened to come into contact with my waist length hair, setting it alight.

So I decided that short hair was in after they put me out.

I smile remembering how pleased I was that I looked good with short hair, especially since I didn't really have a choice in the matter.

No one, and I mean no one, looks good with frazzled hair.

And crisp ends aren't exactly going to make Cheryl say "because you're worth it".

I look down, left, right, up - anywhere except the boy walking on the rough path in front of me.

Turns out you need to look forwards if you want to remain vertical.

I gasp and fall flat on my face, just glad that my hands caught me before I could kiss the gravel.

Ouch.

Why is it that scraped hands hurt so much? And stubbed toes!?

Sweeping my raw palms over my skirt, I look up to see Ronan walking towards me.

Well, it's not like I wasn't making enough noise with my cursing and muttering.

I take a deep breath, force a smile and grit my teeth at the thought of the talking to come.

"Alex? Is that you?" He asks slowly as he paces towards me.

Bunching my fists I look up again to properly see the face of my tormentor.

Damn.

Someone grew up.

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