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26

dan

whether it's been an hour or a couple minutes, i fail to know, but i keep trudging my feet along the dusty pavements, steps still echoing with anger and fists clenched in annoyance. what the hell is phil's problem? i don't think i have ever met a person as moody, as annoying, and as intense as phil is.

i don't think i've heard his car start till yet, but i refuse to turn around and watch him sitting completely unaffected in his stupid fucking vehicle, so i keep my gaze ahead, raising my head a little bit to see any sign of a bus stop, but to my luck—or lack of—there are none in sight.

when another torturously slow five minutes pass, i simply give up, stopping in my tracks and plopping down on the edge of the pavement, probably staining my jeans with dust but that is the least of my worries now. i feel like crying, if not screaming and punching phil in the face, and i sigh defeatedly before reaching into my pockets and going through my contact list.

my hands are clammy when i press the device against my ear and it's a few rings later when my mum answers the phone, a little clattering followed by her clearing her throat as she begins to speak.

"oh hey dan! how'd you call? do you want help in baking something again?" she assumes the reason of me calling and before i can speak, she is lecturing me with how to make lasagna with her new recipe.

"and you set your oven at—"

"mum can you stop for a while and listen," i keep my voice down, because i know if i annoy her she's going to just end the call and block my number like the extra woman she is, and i take a deep breath before speaking.

"i'm stuck somewhere can you come and pick me up?" i scratch the back of my head as i await her response.

"me? but i don't know how to drive, why don't you call one of your friends?"

"mum, i'm dan," i try to remind her incase she forgot how unsocial her own child is, and she laughs uncomfortably from the other end before replying.

"right, um, do you think there's a coffee shop or something where you can sit? i'll call you father and tell him to pick you after work,"

"after work! mum, it's three right now, and dad gets back at like what, seven? are you actually kidding me?"

"then what am i supposed to do, you just called me out of the blue like i'm a taxi service, how do i—"

"thanks a lot mum, you were great help," i spit, my tone as annoyed as it was when i was speaking to phil, and i end the call, placing my phone next to me and wrapping my arms around myself. maybe i should've just gone with phil.

as if phil was somehow hearing my thoughts, his car pulls up in front of me, and he rolls down his windows, silently tutting at my helpless form. i look up at him, shooting him an annoyed glare, and he only raises his eyebrows suggestively in response.

"what?" i snap at him, and he just has an amused expression on his face, before he shakes his head.

"come on, get in," he sighs, a hopeful smile on his stupid lips and i still own a disinterested expression on my face. what the hell does he think? he can just kick me out of his car and then act like a saint?

"what makes you think i'll be doing that?" i bark, and he rolls his eyes.

"come on baby, don't act like a brat now," the word still makes my cheeks flush as it rolls off his tongue, and i scowl at him to hide the blush, picking up my phone and getting off the ground before dusting my jeans.

"don't call me that," i warn him emptily, before rounding the car and opening the door to the passenger's seat, slumping in annoyedly. he doesn't start the car, he just sits there and watches me with that stupid smirk on his face that i want to slap off.

"what?" i snap again, but he doesn't seem to be bothered by my harsh tone anymore, he just leans forward and presses his lips against my cheek before mumbling.

"i'm sorry,"

--

ahoy hru guys

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