Like any Saturday afternoon in a sunny London park, there we were, my friends and I sat under our regular tree. The children played on the swings as we chatted and laughed about the week we had just experieced. The ins and outs of the working world, the neighbourhood gossip, the normal girly chat. Since secondary school we had sat under the same tree and participated in the same activites like clockwork for years. To be honest it was the highlight of my week, catching up with my best friends Donna Jones and Fiona George better known as Don and Fizzy.
We weren't your regular bunch of young girls, we didn't party every night, we weren't grumpy and on the internet all day, we were turning into young women. We had learnt how to be independent. When we were together, we were all that mattered. Our friendship was better than any relationship. However out of the three of us, I was the only single person. I didn't mind, I loved seeing the girls happy. I just wished someone loved me like their boyfriends loved them.
We were deep in conversation when a ball came rolling towards us, stopping at our feet. I heard the soft sound of feet landing on the freshly cut grass. My eyes worked their way up the tall slim figure standing in front of me. His feet sitting nicely in a pair of squeeky clean converses, this long slender legs in black skinny jeans, his waistband hung loosely on his hips. His t-shirt flowed down his long torso from his strong shoulders. Then his face, his perfect face. He had the most amazing smile I had ever seen, his white teeth slightly showing, his small dimples showing in his cheeks. His dark, quiffed hair finished off his perfect image.
I watched as he ruffled his hair, which caused his t-shirt to rise, revealing his v lines just above the loosely hanging waistband. I was snapped out of my day dream as my I heard my friends hysterically laughing.
