Photo © Lisa Fox

Leo was so handsome. All the girls were falling over themselves to go out with him. I had spots and frizzy red hair so knew I’d have no chance.

At the dance the boys lined the room, the girls danced in groups, giggling every time a boy approached. Suddenly Leo was standing there, alone, watching. From my seat in the shadows, I could see the effect he was having. I finished my soda, ready to go. Leo walked over.

‘Leaving? ‘

‘Yes’

‘Can I walk with you a while? Can’t stand all this.’

We walked.

We talked.

We still do.

Thanks as always to Rochelle for organising Friday Fictioneers

• A Wild Card – a person or thing whose influence is unpredictable or whose qualities are uncertain

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