‘What do you think, ‘mazing, huh?’ Chelle was looking dreamy-eyed as her hero walked in.
‘You knew he was going to be here?’ said her friend Millie. Chelle blushed violently. The Brad Pitt look alike sauntered up to the bar, casting his enormous confident grin round the room, taking it all in. Chelle’s belisha beacon of a face must have been radiating an infra-red signal because Mr Cool glanced their way. He raised his hand in a wave as he interrupted his bar order, his smile emitting some sort of latent message, so thought Chelle.
‘Look, he saw me,’ said Chelle through gritted teeth.
‘Of course he saw you. You’ve gone a funny colour and you’ve just started to make odd movements with your arms,’ said Millie impatiently.
‘Shh!’ said Chelle, ‘I was just waving back.’
‘That wasn’t a wave,’ said Millie, ‘it was more like some sort of octopus dance.’ ‘Oh, no, he’s coming over’, said Chelle, slinking further down in her chair.
‘I thought that’s what you wanted,’ said Millie, getting more and more exasperated with her friend.
‘Don’t say anything, will you?’ said Chelle.
‘Like I fancy him, or anything.’ Millie tutted. Either she wanted to go out with Mr Dreamboat or she didn’t. It was highly probable that whatever she said, Chelle would colour up even more (Was that even possible?) and blame her friend for embarrassing her.
‘Is this seat taken?’ said Mr Gorgeous. Millie gestured with her hand to the empty place. Chelle stood up, suddenly angry, and said, ‘You didn’t have to be so obvious. Now he’ll never ask me out.’ She stormed off to the ladies, knocking her drink over Mr Smooth, who looked uncharacteristically shocked and bemused in equal measures.
‘’Is it something I said?’ he said.