eight.

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eight months later.

van.

"So, where you from, lass?" I asked, trying to keep this conversation from dying, but it was crashing and burning, and fast.

"Manchester, it was nice there. I hate Cardiff, it's honestly one of the worst places I've ever been." She scoffs.

Great. She hates Cardiff. What do I say to that? I would protest but I don't want to start a fight with her, she's got nails like cat claws and I don't fancy a scratch on the face tonight.

"I'm just going to pop out for a sec, I'll be back." I say, getting up. God, get me out of here.

"Whatever, yeah." She said, shaking it off. I turn back as I walk away, her head is buried in her phone. God, why did Larry set me up on this date, this girl was a nightmare.

The cold air hit me like a refreshing slap in the face as I came outside. I lit up a fag, it felt like this lass was trying to drag me into an early grave.

"Van?" A voice asked. I whipped my head around to see some girl standing before me, she looked familiar but I didn't know exactly why.

"Oh, you probably don't remember me, right. Well this is awkward." She laughed nervously.

"I'm Persia anyway, just so you know." And then she began to walk away.

Then it clicked.

"Wait! Persia? Yeah, I do remember. Weren't you in like Amsterdam or somewhere?"

She turns back around.

"I was, and I was in a lot of other places too."

"So what brings you back to Cardiff Bay then?"

"Guess I just thought it was time to come home." She said, her eyes telling me she was far off somewhere nicer than here inside her head.

I suddenly got an idea.

"Hey Persia." I kind of shouted, and she snapped out of the little daze she was in.

"Um, yeah?"

"Do you think you could help me?"

"What could I help you with?"

"I'm on a 'date'." I put date in air quotes using my hands. "And it's not going too well, maybe you could like, I don't know, help me get out of it?" I asked and she laughed.

"Um, yeah I guess I could help?"

"Great."

We devised some kind of plan and I went back inside. She was going to follow me in a few minutes after.

When I got back to the bar, the lass was gone. Nice to know the feeling was mutual. Or maybe she was just in the loo? I very much hoped she just took off.

The barman tapped me on the shoulder.

"That lass you was with told me to tell you she had a shit time so she left." He told me.

"Thanks, mate." I replied.

"Just doing my job, can I get you another?" He asks, pointing to my drink.

"Yeah, please."

I heard a laugh behind me.

"Where's this date of yours then?" She asks, sitting down where my date was sitting before she left.

"She, uh, left. Apparently she had a shit time too."

"Riiiight." Persia said, smirking. She didn't believe me.

"Here you go, mate." The barman handed me my drink. "Christ, two dates in one night, lucky man." He laughed. I turned back to Persia, who was laughing her head off.

"I stand corrected." She smiles at me.

And then her phone buzzes.

"Sorry, my friends are looking for me, got to go."

I couldn't let her go again. I couldn't let her leave, thinking I'd see her soon, just to find out she'd gone off to Amsterdam, and she wasn't coming back, she was gone because she had to get away. And now here she was, fell right back into my arms. I couldn't let her go again.

"Wait." I yell, maybe an octave too high.

She spun around to face me, a bit confused.

"You alright?" She asks, a bit concerned.

"Yeah, I was hoping to get your number though. Maybe then I'd be a bit more alright."

Good work, Van.

She laughs and I give her my phone to type it in.

"There you go, see you around." She calls as she walks away.

I decide it's my time to leave, Larry is probably waiting up and he'll love to know what happened.

The cold air brushes off my face once again as I leave the pub for the final time tonight.

I give myself a minute to think. About her, obviously. I remember the first time we met again, and I was so intrigued by her, her steely gaze, her unimpressed tone, her nonchalant attitude. She had come around three sixty, full circle, complete turn since then. Clearly she needed something from Amsterdam, or wherever she went.

She got it, it was like talking to someone completely new. And I still felt the same way about her now as I did then. How could that be? She was almost a perfect contradiction to her past self. Tonight she laughed, she smiled, she seemed genuinely interested in everything I had to say.

This wrecked my head. It made my brain feel like it was in a pot on the stove and it was about to bubble over. I couldn't think about it anymore.

But I couldn't stop. Why couldn't I? She was just a girl, I knew plenty of girls. But none of them were her. Christ, I was a mess. It was easier when she was emotionally unavailable, 'least I knew then why I liked her, I loved moody girls, fun to tease, fun to drive up the wall, they were always dead interesting and I never got bored.

Now I didn't know why I was obsessing over her. I needed to play it cool. I wanted her to think about me too, 'til it drove her crazy. I felt utterly boring for the first time in my life. I wanted to run away to some European city and come back as the complete opposite. I wanted to to change completely and see how it felt. And I didn't know I wanted that until just now. What has this girl done?

THIRTEEN - v.mWhere stories live. Discover now