Dance With Me In the Pouring Rain

I slept solidly the whole night until about half eleven in the morning. I didn't want to get up; late morning lie-ins are a luxury. Eventually, I decided I'd been in bed long enough and roll out of bed. I forwent the shower, simply throwing on a pair of jeans and a hoodie and raking a hand through my hair.

I thought of Tory, who was probably in France by now. But I pushed her out of my mind. I was missing her enough as it was already.

When I got downstairs, Dad was nowhere to be seen. He was probably at his day job - drinking himself silly in the pub. It was never too early for him.

Sighing, I grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started munching it. I caught sight of the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and sighed again. To be honest, the whole house needed a good clean.

I jumped six feet in the air as my phone started vibrating. Cursing myself for being so stupid, I fumbled for it and pressed answer.

"Hey Kyle," I greeted him.

"I am bored out of my skull," he informed me bluntly. "Mum won't let me go out."

"What did you do?" I asked knowingly.

"I didn't do anything!" he said defensively. "Okay, I might have swapped Steve's hair growth stimulation cream for Mum's hair removal cream."

I stifled a guffaw. "You didn't."

"Let's just say his bald spot is a little bit bigger now," Kyle smirked.

"Kyle, why do you hate him so much?" I sighed.

"He's an idiot," he stated. "Come on, he works at a toothpaste company, for crying out loud."

"I thought you liked him, though."

"I never said that. I only said he's better than the other twats Mum's brought home."

I rolled my eyes at him, knowing he couldn't see. "So how long are you housebound for?"

"Two weeks," he replied glumly. "But I'm allowed to have you over because Mum thinks you're a good influence. She clearly doesn't know you at all."

"I'll have you know I'm a very good influence," I said mock-indignantly.

"So, you coming over or what?" Kyle asked boredly.

"Why not?" I sighed. "It's not like I've got anything better to do."

I hung up, tossing the apple core in the bin. Grabbing my iPod, I plugged in my earphones and opened the door.

My eyes widened. Thick sheets of rain were falling relentlessly from the sky, bucketful after bucketful.

"Wonderful," I muttered, flipping up my hood. Thank God Kyle's house wasn't too far away.

Stepping out, I was hit by a barrage of rain, driving needles into my skin. My hoodie was all but useless. Shoving my hands in my pockets, my head bowed to keep the rain off my face, I trudged down the road, walking the familiar path to Kyle's house.

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"Jesus!" Kyle exclaimed as he opened the door. "What happened to you?"

"I decided to take a shower fully clothed," I replied sarcastically. "What do you think happened to me? I got caught in the downpour."

"What downpour?" Kyle frowned.

I turned round. Sure enough, it had stopped raining. The sun was shining blithely, peeking out from behind the clouds. The only sign that it had been raining torrentially only seconds before was the small puddles on the road.

"Typical," I muttered. "Bloody English weather."

"Mum's watching TV with Steve," Kyle informed me darkly. "Playstation?"

Kyle's PS3 was a gift from Steve, to try and win him over. It didn't really work, but that didn't stop Kyle playing on it all the time. I followed him up to his room - which was only marginally bigger than mine - and plonked myself down in front of the TV.

"What do you want to play?" he asked. "Resident Evil, Halo, Gears of War, Call of Duty-"

"Do you have every fighting game ever made?" I interrupted.

He grinned. "Not every one. I haven't got COD4 yet. Steve said he'd get it me, but I'm not sure if he will."

"Especially after you made him bald," I reminded him.

Smirking, Kyle picked out Gears and slid the game into the console.

"He had it coming," he shrugged.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a controller as the game started to load.

"I'm Marcus," Kyle said quickly.

"But that's not fair," I complained. "You're always Marcus."

"It's my game," he reminded me.

"Remind me why I'm friends with you," I grumbled.

He flashed me a grin. "Because no one else would have you."

"Excuse me," I protested. "The way I remember it, you stole my pencil and wouldn't give it back."

"Oh yeah," Kyle laughed. "It was a nice pencil. It was the only sharpened one on our table."

"Hence why I punched you to make you give it back," I chuckled.

"We had to sit next to each other for the rest of the half-term as punishment," he recalled.

"And we ended up being friends," I finished. "Best friends."

"I'm your best friend? I feel honoured." He smiled. "You still don't get to be Marcus, though."

Muttering murderously under my breath, I whacked him over the head with the controller.

"Ow!" he moaned, clutching his head and glaring at me. "You're killing my brain cells, here."

"What brain cells?" I snorted.

"You're going down, blood!" Kyle yelled, gangster-style.

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"I wonder what Tory's doing right now," I mused.

Sighing, Kyle paused the game and turned to me. "Dude, get a life. That's like the hundredth time you brought her up in the past hour."

"It wasn't a hundred," I muttered.

"No, you're right, it was ninety-nine. You have to admit that's sad."

"I was just wondering," I muttered.

"Mate, you got it bad," he informed me, shaking his head. "You're in luh-uve."

"I am not," I protested fiercely, my face heating up.

"Oh really. You talk about her all time, and when you’re not talking about her, you’re thinking about her. You would do anything for her, do anything to make her happy because you care more about her being happy than you being happy. You think she is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and you can’t imagine being without her.” He scrutinised me closely. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

"Yes," I muttered. "To all of the above."

"Then Fletch, I do declare you one hundred per cent in love," Kyle finished, looking at me pitifully.

Love... it felt strange to hear the word applied to me. I'd never been in love. I wasn't sure I believed in it. But I couldn't deny it. What I felt for Tory was more than just a crush. I... loved her.

"Fletch, you're scaring me," Kyle informed me fearfully. "You've got this big, silly grin on your face."

"I'm in love," I repeated slowly.

Groaning, Kyle bashed his head repeatedly on the wall. "What am I going to do with you?”