“3.. 2.. 1..”
“Happy new year,” J quipped, rolling her eyes.
I quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “Oh, come on. Humour me.”
“Face it M, the phone is not going to ring. And your endless countdowns are – well, they kinda sad actually.”
“Har de har.” I tossed the cell phone onto the bed and arranged myself on the floor of the bedroom.
“He said he was going to call.”
“And God said let there be light. Get over it, he”s not going to call, you”re not going to get back together and Creationism is a charming myth.”
“You still go to church though.”
“True. Damned Catholic guilt.”

“Blargh. So he”s not going to call then. Fine. Whatever. I don”t care anyway.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Seriously, is no scene. I mean, is about time I got over my predilection for sexy boys with fast cars and raging Peter Pan complexes.”
“Mmhmm.”
“I serious. Is time for a change.”
“Alright Winston. What kind of change we talking about here?”
“We talking grassroots, we talking fundamentals. Big tings, big tings.”
“Big tings eh? How about you start by calling up your latest Lost Boy and tell him doh bother, you have better things to do with your time.”
“Err…how about small things first?”
“How about I”ve heard this before, and you and I both know you not changing a damn thing.”
“Aright aright, relax lil bit. If the phone doh ring in by the time I count to 10, I”ll call him.”
Steups.
“I serious! Starting now. One…”