Illustrations by Dan Evans
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We made our separate ways to hospital—me to get my hand stitched up and him to get his face fixed. Stan caught me by surprise as I was sitting in the children's A&E and knocked a tooth out with his knee. I could hear his dad encouraging him. I wasn't going to fight in a hospital so I got up and left. We didn't see each other for a long time after that, but he played on my mind for the next few years. It felt like love, but it wasn't.Stan got out of jail when I was 20. He was in there for arson after setting his own house on fire. I'd just got back from India and saw him in a nightclub. The school friend I was with would soon go to jail himself for breaking a guy's ankle and wrist in a drunken fight. I don't know if he knew we were going to run into Stan, but I suspect he might have.The first thing Stan said to me was: "Every time I look in the mirror I see this scar and I'm reminded of you." He was pointing to the one beneath his lip. The same jagged line runs across my knuckles. I considered driving my pint glass into his face and stamping on his head—it was that or get hurt. Either way, it was going to get worse. So I tried something else.I CONSIDERED DRIVING MY PINT GLASS INTO HIS FACE AND STAMPING ON HIS HEAD – IT WAS EITHER THAT OR GET HURT
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