‘Fuck,’ he said. ‘Fuck fuck fuck. Shit wank bollocks! ARRRRGGGHHH!’ He ran over to the door and kicked it as hard as he could. It split. He was going to have to answer for that but he didn’t care. He ran around the house yelling and throwing cushions and kicking walls and trying not to break anything valuable. Finally he flung himself down on the sofa. He felt like weeping or screaming or laughing or all three. He put his teeth into a hideous grimace and grinned like the devil at the ceiling.
In a minute he put his hands behind his head, sighed, and closed his eyes. Not that he’d had any intention of asking Marianne out, and it was totally unreasonable to expect her to wait around for him; but it just had to be Dino who got her, didn’t it, and it had to be then, just days after he’d broken free. Like Jon said, it was too accurate to be an accident, but he was willing to bet Dino had no idea what he was doing.
Ben got up and looked at himself in the mirror. He had a good face, small even features, tight curly black hair. His eyes were bright and red with anger – he’d been close to tears – but he looked OK. The world was full of good-looking girls. Someone else would be there. Dino and Marianne wouldn’t last for ever and he’d still be there. What was the hurry? He could wait if he wanted to, or not.
Melvin Burgess, Doing It
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