Hundred Percent Certain, by Ian Fletcher

“She’s giving you the eye,” Mark says.

“Really?” I say.

“Hundred percent certain,” Mark confirms.

After five pints I’m not certain of anything, but no, the two girls at the table opposite are definitely discussing us, the pretty brunette seeming to stare directly at me.

“You’re in, mate!” says Mark, going off to get the next round.

The brunette rises and approaches me.

“I won’t even have to chat her up,” I’m thinking gleefully.

“Hey, your friend’s really cute,” she says.

At closing time she leaves arm-in-arm with Mark.

I walk home alone, only my hangover to look forward to.


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