Sure, he wore a jacket that was befitting a man of wealth but the frayed edged, faded jeans, beaded friendship bracelets around his wrists, the beat up sneakers and the surfer sun glasses perched on the top of his head? They were pure Swerve. As was his language. He confused and amused many with his ‘gnarly dude’ comments and his colorful, uninhibited conversation that had people wondering what planet he came from. Few would have noticed the keen attention in his eyes as he listened to those around him. Mary was fascinated watching him. Her mother, once over her initial surprise appeared pleased that Mary had turned up with a man, despite how he dressed and acted, and not another woman like her sister Clare. “What a drag,” Clare murmured as she puffed on a cigarette perched on the end of a long silver cigarette holder. Mary smiled. She loved Clare. She was an original who cared little for what others said. Her sister was, as she threatened to be, dressed in a 1920s style black tuxedo and her short, cinnamon brown hair was cut in a severe bob designed to match the theme.
