A Collection of Short/Long Stories I've Written;

Becoming Ronnie: 26.

“Ronnie?” Dylan asked, grabbing hold of me to steady me. “What’s wrong?”

I turned around to see an angry looking Sophie storm out of the bathroom after me.

“Ronnie?”

“Uh?”

“What’s wrong?”

I turned back around to my new friend and furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what to do. I didn’t want to just leave now Sophie had seen me. I didn’t want it to seem like I was running away but at the same time I had no intentions of staying here and exchanging a few words with her.

“Oi! Veronica!”

Too late, I thought as a frown appeared on my face after hearing Sophie Black’s voice.

Instantly Dylan put a protective arm around me and before I knew it I was standing behind him, facing Dylan’s back and Sophie.

“Who are you?”

“I could say the same thing to you.” Dylan replied. “What do you want?”

“To talk to that son-of-a-bitch.”

“You need a mirror for that.”

I sniggered. Dylan was asking her to look in her own reflection before talking to anyone else and it made me laugh. Sophie, who creased up her face in confusion, didn’t seem to get it.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Okay…?” she replied, but then she was I was chuckling and her eyes narrowed. “You!”

“What?” I asked, holding onto the back of Dylan’s leather jacket for comfort.

“I can’t believe you said that in there!”

“Said what?” Dylan asked.

“She called me a— wait, who are you?” she asked, cutting herself off from what she was about to say. That would have been embarrassing; telling her bad reputation life story to someone she didn’t know.

“I’m Dylan.”

“Who?”

“Dylan—”

“I got that.” She snapped. “Why are you protecting her?”

“Who?” Dylan asked. “Ronnie?”

“Yes. Ronnie. What? No. She’s called Veronica. No-one’s ever called her Ronnie.”

“I do.”

“Who are you?” Sophie asked again, tapping her foot as she put her hands on her hips. It amused me how she was behaving around Dylan. Dumb. Her first personality before mean.

“I’m Dylan—”

“I got that part, again.” she moaned. “What are you doing sticking up for the posh brat?”

“Veronica?”

I knew Dylan was teasing her now.

“Yes. Just answer the question, like, now.”

“Ron’s my girlfriend.”

***

We were sat in the park in central of Manhattan. After the incident this morning, neither of us spoke about the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing. I didn’t know if he was really joking or not because he hadn’t ever mentioned anything of it before but I was nervous about wanting to talk about it.