Dance With Me In the Pouring Rain

When I got to the cafe the next day, Tory was already there, settled in a booth at the back. I made my way towards her, and as she noticed me, she beamed at me.

"Hi!" she greeted me, hugging me quickly before sitting back down. "How are you?"

"Fine, yeah," I nodded. "So, what do you want?"

She frowned, folding her arms across her chest in a huff. "I'm supposed to ask that. I asked you out. I have to pay. I have to know what you want."

I raised an eyebrow. "Now, there's no way I could argue with that logic. So, this is a date, then?"

She blushed an adorable hue and looked away. "Nah. It was just a turn of phrase."

I nodded, disappointed but adamant not to let it show.

"So what are you having?" she asked in a cheerful tone, though it sounded ever-so-slightly fake.

"Um... hot chocolate and a double chocolate chip muffin," I replied.

She beamed. "You read my mind. Back in a sec."

She all but bounded up to the till. I drummed my fingers lightly on the table, waiting for her to return. I saw Tory’s fluorescent yellow t-shirt before I saw her and a grin spread across my face.

“Here.” She handed me my coffee and the huge muffin. “I wasn’t sure whether to get large or extra large, so I got extra large. Don’t worry if you can’t eat it. I’ll eat it for you.”

“That won’t be a problem,” I laughed. “I’m sure I can finish this by myself.”

“So, want to play truth?” she asked, sipping her hot chocolate delicately.

“That’s like truth or dare, isn’t it?” I queried.

She nodded. “Minus the dare. So, want to go first or shall I?”

“You go first. It was your idea,” I reminded her.

“Alright then. When’s your birthday?”

“What do you want to know that for?” I asked, perplexed.

“So I can get you a birthday present,” she replied like it was obvious. “So, when is it?”

“September 12th,” I informed her. “Yours?”

“March 16th,” she stated. “Your turn.”

I thought for a second, and then shrugged lamely. “Favourite colour?”

The corners of her mouth turned upwards ever-so-slightly. “Blue. You?”

“Green,” I replied decisively. “Sorry, but I’m crap at thinking up questions. Your turn.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, a thoughtful look on her face. “If you were stuck on a desert island, what three things would you bring with you?”

I raised an eyebrow, but didn't question. “Uh, food? My iPod. And…” I racked my brains, trying to think of something else. I shrugged. “My friends?”

She bit her lip, obviously trying not to laugh. “Lovely, Fletch. Not particularly practical, but hey.”

“What would you take, then?” I said defensively.

“Solar-powered laptop, internet connection and water purifier,” she replied, grinning.

I narrowed my eyes. “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“The way I see it, if I’ve got a water purifier, when I get thirsty, I can get water from the sea,” she explained. “I can’t survive without technology, though, so I’d need my laptop to keep in touch with people, play music… that kind of thing. But to do that, I’d need an internet connection. And an infinite supply of batteries, so it’s solar-powered instead.”

I gaped at her. “You really have thought this out.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Your turn.”

“Um… can I get back to you on that?” I asked desperately. “This muffin looks really appetising.”

She rolled her eyes again as I bit into the muffin. It really was delicious, a lump of chocolaty goodness.

"Would you rather be boiled in acid," I asked eventually, "or burnt at the stake?"

Tory blinked. "Because that's not morbid at all." I rolled my eyes. "Acid. I have this thing about fire." She shivered.

"Why?" I asked curiously. She shrugged, avoiding my eyes. "Come on, tell," I insisted.

She bit her lip before answering. "My eighth birthday. Someone accidentally tipped the cake over and the sofa caught on fire. I was nearby at the time and my hair got singed. I haven't had a cake with candles since."

I stared at her, the corners of my lips turning upwards. I tried not to laugh, but a guffaw escaped me and soon I was in stitches.

"Laugh if you want," Tory said crossly. "It wasn't funny."

I eventually recovered myself, biting my lip to keep myself from laughing anymore. “I’d say fire. Acid seems painful.”

Tory rolled her eyes. “No shit Sherlock. My turn. Uh… what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“You asked me that before,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, but you didn't give me a straight answer,” she reminded me. Her eyes glinted. “When I grow up, I want to be famous, I want to be a star-”

“Shut up or I will throw my coffee over you,” I threatened seriously.

Her eyes grew wide. “Would you do that to me, Fletch? I thought we were friends.”

“I will if you keep singing that song,” I growled.

“So, what do you want to be?” she persisted.

I sighed. “I don't know. I’m not really good at anything.”

She looked at me. “Yeah right. Everyone’s good at something. You’re really good at running!”

“Yeah, and you can really make a career out of that,” I replied sarcastically.

“There must be something,” she insisted.

I thought for a second. “There is something.” I blushed and looked away. “I’m kind of okay… I mean, I’m not terrible… I’m not too bad…”

“Stop rambling and tell me, fool,” Tory interrupted, mock-glaring at me.

“I can sort of draw,” I mumbled.

Her eyebrows shot up with interest. “Really? Cool. You’ll have to show me some of your stuff sometime.”

“Yeah, well, the thing is, I haven’t really drawn in ages, and I’m not that good-” I babbled nervously.

“Fletch?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

I grinned at Tory. “I don’t have to ask what you want to be when you grow up. A psychologist, right?”

She nodded, impressed. “You remember?”

“’Course I remember,” I replied. “I forget nothing.”

“Remind me never to piss you off,” she teased. “Your turn.”

"Hmm," I pondered. "I can't think of anything."

She rolled her eyes, shoving the last of her muffin in her mouth. "Let's go then."

We ambled out, joking and laughing about the most inane of things. Our fingers brushed lightly as we walked, gently intertwining. Tory smiled at me, and I smiled back. Somehow, we found ourselves at the park.

“I want to go on the swings!” Tory cried.

I looked at her. “Seriously?”

She nodded solemnly. “Uh huh. I love swings.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you do. Do we have to?”

“Yes,” she replied, grabbing my hand and tugging me away by the sleeve of my hoodie.

She raced towards the swings and jumped on, grinning from ear to ear.

"Give me a push, will you?"

I stepped forward resignedly and, placing my hands on either side of her back, pushed her.

"Higher!" she squealed, with all the maturity of a six-year-old. But a happy six-year-old. "Enough!" she cried.

I stood well back and watched as she swung higher and higher. It looked like she was about to take off and fly away into the clear blue sky. But then she started to slow down and as she did so, she jumped off the swing and landed gracefully on her feet. She turned and beamed at me, and I couldn't help but smile back.

Wandering back to the swings, she sat down and started swinging gently back and forth. I plonked myself down beside her and looked at her. She was humming softly, a tune I didn't recognise. Her eyes were closed, and her lashes fluttered. Her hair, buffeted by the wind, billowed about her flushed face, falling in wispy clumps.

"What?" she asked, smiling self-consciously. It was only then that I realised I'd been staring. "Have I go something on my face?"

I shook my head. "Nah. You're fine."

We sat there, swinging gently, not wanting or needing to say anything. But then she tapped me on the shoulder, smiling mischievously.

"Race you to the monkey bars," she whispered, shooting up like a lightning bolt.

"Oi!" I yelled as she took off, and ran after her. I caught up easily, with my long legs and stamina. I beat her there and lounged against the wooden structure. She glared at me as she approached, panting for breath.

"Not - fair," she wheezed, bending over to catch her breath.

I smirked smugly. "You were the one who cheated."

"A lot of good that did me." She was breathing more evenly now, and sighed. "I am so unfit."

"But you're super-skinny," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm still unfit," she replied. "I can't be arsed to exercise."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you the kind of person who can eat whatever you like without putting on weight?"

She smiled wearily. "Yup, that's me."

"Bet your friends love you," I remarked.

She rolled her eyes, then turned to the monkey bars. "Want a go?"

I shook my head, wincing. "No thanks."

She grinned. "Fine. Let me show you how it’s done."

Rubbing her hands together, she grabbed the bars and hauled herself up. I watched, awestruck, as she swung gracefully from bar to bar until she reached the other side.

“Your talents are endless,” I remarked.

She smiled. “I am amazing. Worship me or die.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is there an Option C?”

She rolled her eyes and hauled herself back up. She hooked her legs onto the bars and leant backwards until she was hanging upside down, grinning at me. Her hair was vertical, and swayed gently in the breeze as if it had a life of its own.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” I said.

I don’t know how to explain what happened next. Maybe I lost all my wits. Or maybe I found them.

All I know is our faces inched closer together, our lips millimetres apart, until they met and we were kissing, just like that scene in Spiderman where he hangs upside down and kisses Mary-Jane.

It was not as easy as it looked. Tory pulled away and giggled. “One sec,” she murmured, before flipping over onto her feet.

I cupped her cheek with my hand and pressed her closer to me, kissing her fervently. She smiled into the kiss and draped her arms around my neck. I broke away to trail kisses down her neck, causing her to moan softly. I was practically exploding with happiness. Fireworks were going off all over my body and I never wanted it to stop.

But alas, it had to. Someone coughed from behind us and we jumped apart. I whirled around to see a stern-faced middle-aged woman, her arms folded as she glared at us. Behind her were two little children, no older than four or five.

I was embarrassed beyond belief, but Tory seemed unfazed.

“Hi,” she greeted them, smiling at the little kids. “Have a good time at the park!”

With that, she took my arm and led me away. As soon as we were out of earshot, we cracked up.

“Oh my God,” Tory giggled. “Did you see her face?”

We ambled silently out of the park, our fingers interlaced. Her hand was soft and cool against my warm, calloused one. I could feel the blisters forming where she grabbed the bars, and stroked them gently.

“Seasons are changing and waves are crashing and stars are falling all for us,” she sang softly. “Days grow longer and nights grow shorter. I can show you I’ll be the one.”

“I will never let you fall, I’ll stand up with you forever,” I sang, blatantly out of tune. “I’ll be there for you through it all, even if saving you sends me to heaven.”

She smiled softly at me, and rested her head on my shoulder. “I love that song.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”

I looked up at the sky; it was blanketed with a great, grey cloud that threatened to suffocate the earth.

“It’s going to rain,” I informed her, wrinkling my nose.

“Don’t say it like that,” Tory replied. “Say it like, ‘it’s going to rain’.” Her tone was reverent.

“Okay, why?”

She shrugged. “Rain is beautiful. Without it, nothing could grow. Nothing could live. We need it for our very survival.” She smiled. “Besides, I love walking in the rain.”

I shook my head sadly. “I knew you were insane.”

She nudged me gently, as the first raindrop started to fall. I pushed her back, a little bit harder. She full-on shoved me, making me stumble and lose my balance.

“Oh no you didn't,” I smirked.

Just then, the heavens opened and the rain started to pour. Tory squealed and took off running, but I caught up easily. I grabbed her hand and we ran through the rain, yelling and squealing with delight, not caring that our clothes were sodden and we were getting soaked. I felt like a little kid again, and that felt incredible.