SmokersThere was something all too familiar with that morning’s conversation. As though the previous night never existed. A peculiar déjà vu.
‘I don’t want you to get hurt,’ Rosie said.
‘I know you don’t,’ I said, ‘I just got scared.’
‘We should protect each other.’
‘We will.’
When she went to gather her stuff for school I stood in reflective mood, weighing up the possible eventualities that would unfold. Feeling apprehensive, edgy yet strangely con-fident I was happy Rosie and I had discussed everything and she was standing beside as we went to school. My rock. The little devil on my shoulder, however, had different ideas and was nibbling at my ear quipping, ‘just using this poor girl for your own means, there is no substance behind anything you say.’ While waiting at the doorway for
