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𝗢𝗖𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥, 𝟮𝟬𝟬𝟬
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... marlene whyte had never watched the film dumb and dumber. and apparently, that was an utter outrage. matt was gobsmacked, his jaw hanging off its hinges and his eyes wide with disgust. to be frank, she hated jim carrey and simply didn't find him funny. she caught alex smirk slightly from behind matthew, nodding his head ever so slightly in agreement to her statement. at least she wasn't alone. she tried to catch his eyes but he refused to look up from his leather boots.
"is it really necessary for me to watch?" she groaned, raising her eyebrows at matt's still completely shocked face. the streets were packed with children, either screaming or clinging to parents, high with excitement. "i mean, it's not like pulp fiction or anything,"
"not a good example. matthew's never seen pulp fiction," alex butted in, grinning wildly at the situation his friend had put himself in.
"HES WHAT?" rory and marlene screamed together, clutching each other's arms like they were about to collapse, "you slag," rory blurted with rage, "you absolute chav of a boy," matt's defences went up instantly and he stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, squaring up his shoulders and narrowing his eyes, "you're white trash," rory said with a small smile, now realising she was getting under his skin.
johanna snickered, "fucking diabolical, matt," she tutted, straightening his tie.
he shoved her off, poking his tongue out like a child, "yeah, and I'll bet you're the type 'o girl to cry watching titanic," he scoffed, fixing his tie himself now, "you're just like al,"
"hey," alex went bright red at that comment, licking his lips and widening his eyes. he shuffled his feet, speaking up in a quiet voice, "i dont cry at fucking titanic,"
"alright. dumbo then," matt countered, daring alex to deny it this time. he didn't.
marlene found herself smiling, rubbing alex arm with a reassuring look in her eyes. she wanted him to know she cries during dumbo, and that she thought it was sweet that he did too. she wanted to tell him she thought everything about him was sweet, she wanted to tell him her cheeks ached from smiling. but something told her alex wouldn't take kindly to the adjective 'sweet'. well, not while matthew was in earshot.
so, she didn't say anything. instead, she left him staring after her shrinking figure as she left his side, leaving behind a gust of cold which used to hold her warmth. "matthew, please for the love of god. watch pulp fiction with me,"
instead of answering her, matt just continued to storm down the pathway, looking like a walking highlighter as the streetlights shone down upon him. willow snorted, "and we thought jo were fucking uncultured." the group started up again, following matthew blindly as he was the only one with the correct address.
