Dance With Me In the Pouring Rain

"Fletch! The ball!"

I stared up at the cloudless blue sky, losing myself in its depth. But it wasn't the sky I was thinking about.

"Fletch?"

A cloud drifted across, wispy and fragmented like an old man's beard. It reformed as a face, a girl's face. Tory's face.

"FLETCH! FOR FUCK'S SAKE! THE BALL IS COMING RIGHT AT YOU!"

I looked down from the sky just in time to see the football bounce past me into the goal.

"Sorry," I apologised to a furious-faced Kyle. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Too right you weren't," he fumed. "You've let in every single goal so far! So much for being a goalkeeper."

I looked sheepish, and shoved my gloved hands in my pockets.

"You've been in another world all day," Hassan chimed in.

"Sorry," I repeated. "I was just thinking."

The three of them blinked.

"About what?" Jordan asked incredulously.

I shrugged. "Just stuff. I'll go get the ball, shall I?"

I jogged off to the bushes, searching for the ball amongst the greenery.

"Looking for this?" a familiar voice asked, and I grinned.

"Hey Tory," I said casually. "Can I have the ball back?"

She chucked it me, smiling awkwardly. "Hi," she said shyly.

"Hi," I replied. "Thought you got out before us?"

Tory grimaced. "Stupid teacher made the whole class stay back for talking."

"You mean grammar school boffs actually talk?" I teased, my voice laden with mock-disbelief. "I thought you spent all your free time doing extra maths homework."

She swiped at me. "Oi. I find that very offensive."

"FLETCH! GET THE FUCK OVER HERE WITH THAT BALL BEFORE WE ASS-RAPE YOU!"

I winced. "ONE SECOND, KYLE!" I turned back to Tory. "You want to play?"

She shook her head. "I have a ton of homework."

"Speaking of homework," I said slowly, "what do you know about circle theorems?"

"Kind of a lot," she replied. "We just finished them in maths."

"Because we have this killer exercise on them and I'm really stuck," I informed her a little uncertainly.

She didn't make fun of me for being stupid like I expected. Instead, she merely smiled. "Come over to my house. I'll help you with your maths and you help me with my DT."

"What's your DT?"

"I'm making a point of sale display for Guitar Hero for my coursework," she informed me. "We're doing final ideas and mine are crap. I can't draw for peanuts."

I grinned. "You got a deal. I'll see you in about half an hour."

She waved at me as I jogged back to my mates, beaming like a little boy.

-------------------------------------------------

Forty minutes later, I was standing outside Tory's house. I pressed her doorbell and tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for her to answer.

But when the door swung open, there was not a beautiful fifteen-year-old girl standing there. Instead there was a greying middle-aged man, his eyes narrowed with hostility.

"Uh, hi," I said nervously. "I'm Tory's friend. Is she in?"

"Fletch," he stated, nodding. "Yes, she told me you were coming." He turned away. "Tory! Your friend is here!" He turned back to me, still glaring. "Tell me, young man, what is your opinion on the Iraq war?"

That threw me. Whatever I had been expecting, it wasn't that. I decided to be honest. "Um... I don't know a lot about it."

Tory's dad regarded me carefully for a few seconds. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the arrival of an angel.

"Dad, leave the poor boy alone," Tory said, appearing at his side. "He doesn't need you questioning his political affiliations." She flashed a smile at me. "Hi Fletch."

"Hi," I muttered awkwardly.

Grabbing my arm, she dragged me upstairs. I got a glimpse of her house. It was quite nice, very clean and tidy. Not as huge as I expected. It was kind of... ordinary.

"What are you two doing?" her dad called after us suspiciously.

"Homework," she called back, dragging me into her room. It was, to my shock, tidy. "Sorry about the mess. I didn't have much time to tidy up."

"'Mess'?" I queried incredulously. "I thought you said it looked like a bomb hit it?"

Tory grinned at me. "Compared to the rest of the house it does. I told you my mum is a neat freak."

"I can believe that," I grinned back. "Your house is nice. Your room is nice."

It was a medium blue, with a matching blue bedspread and blue fluffy cushions on a blue beanbag. If I didn't know already, this would tell me a lot about her favourite colour. There were posters of her favourite bands pasted all over the room. In a corner was a computer, sat on top of a messy desk. The room had a bay window, and was easily twice the size of mine.

"Thanks," she replied shyly. "Sorry about my dad. He's into politics in a big way. Though you did better than the last boy I brought home. He said, and I'm paraphrasing, this war's the best thing to happen since sliced bread. Dad went nuts and banned him from the house."

"Wow," I remarked. "He must really care about that stuff."

Tory nodded. "Get him talking about it and you'll never get him to stop."

"So, you bring a lot of guys to meet your parents?" I teased.

Tory blushed an adorable hue. "I didn't mean- I didn't want you to meet-"

I grinned. "You are so easy to wind up."

She stuck her tongue out at me. "I'm going to put some music on. I can't work in silence."

She plugged her iPod into the speakers and it started playing Mayday Parade. Tory grinned, and started to dance around, singing along at the top of her lungs. I had to laugh as I watched.

"Tory, has anyone ever told you that you are the strangest person they've ever met?"

She paused to think. "Yes. I get that quite a lot, actually."

I rolled my eyes, grinning, as someone barrelled into the room. It was a boy, who looked older than Tory, about my height, with messy dark hair and the same brown eyes as her. I was confused; I thought she only had a younger brother.

"Can I use the computer?" he asked, his voice deeper than some people in my year. Somehow, I recognised him.

"Eddie, my friend is here," Tory replied pointedly. I realised with a shock that he was her younger brother. "What do you need it for?"

"Annie's monopolised the computer downstairs," he replied.

Tory sighed resignedly. "Go on. It's not like it's my computer, anyway. It's not like I might need it for homework or anything."

Eddie rolled his eyes, meeting mine for the first time. "Fletch, isn't it? You're friends with my sister?" He sounded incredulous. "What are you doing anyway?"

Tory groaned. "Oh, you are so dirty-minded. We're doing homework."

"Homework? You geek!" he exclaimed. "Seriously, you need to get a life. There are more things to life than chess."

Tory rolled her eyes. "Insult me again and you're banned."

"Oh glorious sister, how dare I insult the wonder that is your excellence," Eddie intoned monotonously.

Tory threw a book at him and it hit him square in the face.

"Get on with it," she ordered.

Eddie rolled his eyes and sat at the desk, booting up the computer. Tory knelt down beside her bed and pulled out a black A3 folder. "Voila ma DT folder!"

I flicked through it briefly. "This is really good."

"Thanks. Here are my initial designs." She indicated a page of thumbnail sketches. "I don't know which ones to develop or how to develop them because they're all crap."

"They are not all crap," I assured her. "How many do you need?"

"Six," she said flatly.

I whistled through my teeth.

"I asked my idiot brother to help me," Tory said loudly, "but he wouldn't do it unless I paid him ten pounds."

Eddie didn't turn around. "In this economic climate, sis, we must all look to our wallets."

Tory rolled her eyes. "That guy lives for money, I swear. So, your maths stuff."

-----------------------------------------

While I sketched out some designs for Tory's coursework, she went through my maths homework, explaining each question. We'd alternate; she'd copy a few of my designs while I did my maths exercise, then she'd explain the questions while I thought up ideas.

The song changed to Hero of War by Rise Against.

"My dad likes this band, well, Appeal to Reason mostly, because of all the political messages," Tory informed me.

"Are you into all that political stuff too?" I asked curiously.

She shrugged. "I suppose. Not as much as my dad though. Do you know what really annoys me, though?"

"People who don't care either way?" I guessed, my voice laced with guilt.

"Nah. I mean, it's not your war. There's no reason you should care. No, what annoys me the most is when, on the news, there's stories like, a soldier has died in Iraq/Afghanistan/Palestine. That makes me so, so angry. Because yeah, someone's died. I'm sure it's hard on the family. But they don't mention the countless Iraqis or whoever who die every single day. The soldiers knew what they were getting in for when they signed up for the army or whatever. Getting killed is an occupational hazard. But those innocent people didn't."

She fell silent suddenly. We listened to the song.

"Yeah a hero of war, is that what they see? Just medals and scars, so damn proud of me. I brought home that flag, now it gathers dust, 'cause it's a flag that I loved, it's the only thing I had trust."

As the song finished, Tory jumped, as if waking from a spell.

"So, do you get circle theorems now?" she asked hurriedly.

I nodded. "Completely."

From nowhere, Chelsea Smile by Bring Me the Horizon started playing, but it was high and tinny, like a ring tone. Tory's phone was vibrating noisily beside her.

"Leave it," she said without looking up. "It's Ally."

"How'd you know? You haven't even looked at it."

"Personalised ring tones," she grinned goofily. "This is Ally's favourite song."

"What's mine?" I asked curiously.

She blushed, smiling sheepishly. "You Had Me at Hello by A Day to Remember."

"Sweet," I replied, smiling.

"Yeah, I really like the song," she said quickly. "The rest of their songs are a bit too screamo, though."

"Tory! Does Fletch want to stay for dinner?" her mum called.

Tory looked at me. I shrugged; whatever it was would definitely be better than anything I got at home.

"Yeah!" she called back.

"Come down, then!"

Tory rolled her eyes. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"I want to."

"I feel I should warn you, Mum isn’t an especially good cook. Her culinary skills are limited to heating up precooked food."

I grinned. "Same."

"But-"

"Tory, are you trying to get rid of me?" I asked. "Because if you want me to leave, I'll leave."

She bit her lip. "No. It's not that. It's just..." She sighed heavily. "My family are so embarrassing. You kind of got the idea with Eddie."

I grinned, relieved. "Is that it? You're scared of being embarrassed? I thought- I thought you were ashamed of me, or something."

Tory was incredulous. "Why would I be ashamed of you?"

I muttered something incomprehensible under my breath and she grinned, pulling me into a hug.

"Come on," she said, grabbing my arm. "Let's go before Mum sends out a search party."

She dragged me downstairs to the front room. A friendly-faced woman smiled at me as we walked in.

"Hi, you must be Fletch," she said warmly. "I'm Catherine, Tory's mum. Sit wherever you like."

I sat down at the back beside a young-looking girl I assumed was Tory's sister. Tory sat opposite next to her brother and her parents sat at either end. I was suddenly terribly, inexplicably nervous.

"So, are you having fun upstairs?" Catherine asked pointedly.

"Mum," Tory muttered. "We're doing homework."

"You are such geeks," Eddie exclaimed. "I bet you'll be playing chess after this."

"Chess?" I queried. "I didn't know you like chess."

"I don't," Tory muttered. "It's a running un-funny joke. I'm the chess club geek."

"I don't get it," I said, confused.

"That's because it's not funny," she replied flatly.

"So, what are your intentions towards my daughter?" her father said sternly.

"Dad," she chastised. "We're just friends. That's it."

I deflated a little at her words. Yeah. Just friends.

"Alan, lighten up," Catherine informed him. "Fletch, do you like the food?"

I looked down at my plate. Pasta, chicken and peas. I tried some, aware she was watching me.

"It's really nice," I informed her.

"Nice to see someone appreciates my cooking," she said pointedly. "All this ungrateful lot do is make fun of it."

"We never make fun of your cooking, Mother," Tory teased.

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Cheeky madam. She only calls me 'mother' when she's taking the mickey."

"So how was everyone's day?" Tory's sister asked. She was so cute, with a sweet, innocent face, brown hair and cute brown eyes. She looked like a miniature version of Tory.

"Hi," I greeted her. "You must be Annie. I'm Fletch, Tory's friend."

She smiled sweetly at me. "Hello. You're nice."

I smiled back at her and ruffled her hair.

Tory rolled her eyes knowingly. "Wait 'til you get to know her better. She's a right tiny terror."

"But she's so cute!" I protested.

Everyone laughed.

"He's a sucker for Annie's charms," Eddie chuckled. "Just like everyone else."

"So how was everyone's day?" Annie said insistently.

"Okay," everyone echoed.

"Get any penalties, Eddie?" Alan asked him, a warning note in his voice.

"I have a uniform detention tomorrow," Eddie replied bluntly.

Catherine sighed. "Is it too much trouble for you to tuck your shirt in and wear your tie right? But no, that wouldn't be cool. Or hip. Or whatever it is." She turned to me. "I bet you don't give your mother this much trouble, Fletch."

Tory looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her up. She mouthed 'sorry' to me.

"Actually, my mum's not around anymore," I replied uncomfortably. "Her and my dad split up a few years back. I live with my dad now."

Catherine's face fell. "Oh Fletch, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

"It's okay," I muttered, staring at my plate.

The rest of dinner passed without incident. Once we'd finished, Tory and I escaped to her room.

"I apologise with heartfelt sincerity for my awful family," she said as soon as the door was closed.

"Oh, they're not that bad," I replied. I meant it too. "Your mum is really nice."

"Yeah, everyone loves my mum," she said, smiling a little. "Let's get this work finished."

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About an hour later, we were done. We sat around chatting for a bit, but after a while I decided I'd probably outstayed my welcome.

"I should go," I said awkwardly. "This was fun."

I leant forward to kiss her, but she turned her face so I kissed her cheek instead.

Tory avoided my eyes. "I'm sorry, Fletch. I'm not ready for... that. I just... I think we're moving too fast, you know?"

I didn't know, but I nodded anyway, trying to mask my disappointment.

"We can still be friends, though, right? I love hanging out with you."

With great effort, I nodded, somehow managing to dredge up a smile. "Of course."

Tory hugged me and I inhaled her sweet scent, holding her tightly until she started to squirm.

"I'll show you out," she said, leading me downstairs. "Bye."

"Bye," I echoed, as the door shut in my face.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I walked down the street, my eyes glued to the pavement.

I was a couple of streets from my house when my phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out, checking the Caller ID. "Hey Kyle."

"Hey Casanova," he teased. "How was it?"

"It wasn't like that," I said dully.

"Come on, don't be coy-"

"No, Kyle, it really wasn't like that," I informed him bluntly. I told him what Tory had said about being 'just friends'.

He whistled through his teeth. "Ouch. You really like her, don't you?"

"Yep," I replied glumly. "But if the only way I get to spend time with her is by being just friends then so be it."

"Oh, grasshopper, you have much to learn."