Dance With Me In the Pouring Rain

Discovering that I was in actual fact in love with Tory was both a blessing and a curse. It was good, great even, to be in love. To have someone you care about more than anything else.

But that in itself only posed more problems. One main, glaringly obvious problem in particular: what if she didn't feel the same?

That alone terrified the bejesus out of me. I couldn't lose her. I wouldn't. So it was kind of a relief that I wasn't going to see her for two weeks.

But it was also the converse, because I missed her so much. It was like there was a huge, gaping hole inside of me that only she could fill. I had to keep telling myself it was only fourteen days. Then thirteen. Then twelve.

By day three, I think Kyle was getting very fed up of me. I'd usually go over to his to play video games and, intentionally or otherwise, would end up talking his ear off about Tory the whole time.

When I showed up on his doorstep on day four, he held up a roll of duct tape threateningly.

"I'm not messing around," he informed me seriously. "If I so much as think you're pondering the slightest possibility of mentioning the T-word I will tape your mouth shut."

"The T-word?" I queried, unimpressed.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "I'm not joking."

I mimed zipping my mouth closed and stepped inside.

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Day five was when I got Tory's postcard. There was a picture of The Eiffel Tower on the front. It was quite pretty. Turning it over, I started to read.

Bonjour, Fletch! Nous restons dans un hôtel qui est très bon. C'est une piscine aussi! Il fait chaud et il fait beau. Je pense qu’il pleut en Angleterre, non?

Hier, nous avons visité la Tour Eiffel. C'était très joli. Nous avons prendu beaucoup de photos. Après ça, nous allons allés à une restaurant et j'ai mangé un très grand gâteau de chocolat. C'était délicieux!

So how is my lovely boyfriend? Methinks you miss me. I miss you. I know you said no French but I couldn’t resist. Before you ask, I’m having a great time. I’m getting tanned! Me and Eddie have tanning sessions every day where we just sit by the pool and soak up sun. I know. Sometimes, I worry about that boy. This might be a little wet someplace because he cannon-balled into the pool and splashed me on purpose. Don’t worry, I got him back. I shoved him in the pool fully clothed. T’was fun. But then he did the same to me.

Ah well. Still having a great time. Hope your holidays are going well. I shall see you, my friend, in just over a week. Try not to miss me too much.

Tory xxx

P.S. Snails actually don’t taste that bad.

P.P.S. I miss you.

P.P.P.S. Did I mention that I miss you?

Chuckling, I tucked the postcard in the pocket of my jeans and shut the front door behind me.

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“I’ve still got the duct tape,” Kyle warned as I stepped over the threshold. "Oh, by the way, Jordan's here."

"I thought he was in London visiting old friends or something," I frowned.

"He got back last night," he informed me. "And just so you know, I wouldn't press him for details. I don't think it was a particularly good trip. He's clammed right up, and every time I mention it, he snaps at me."

I nodded. It wasn't unusual for Jordan to be like that; his mood swings were worse than a girl's. We headed up to Kyle’s room, where Jordan was playing Halo.

"Hey, Jordan," I greeted him.

He merely grunted in response, not taking his eyes off the screen. I frowned. His jaw was clenched, his knuckles were white from gripping the controller so tightly and his mouth was set in a hard line. He was pissed. Something bad must have happened.

Kyle gave me an I-told-you-so look before sitting down.

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I looked at Jordan in shock. He'd just lost for the fourth time running. Jordan never lost. Especially not at Halo. He tossed the controller aside angrily, staring moodily ahead. I shifted over nervously, knowing this wasn’t about him losing.

"Jordan? Are you alright, mate?" I asked tentatively.

"I'm fine!" he snapped. "Why wouldn't I be fine?"

I exchanged glances with Kyle.

"You'd think I'd be used to it after all these years, but no," Jordan continued angrily. "But then you'd think after all these years, she'd have learnt her lesson!"

I looked at him carefully. He was breathing heavily, his breath coming in quick, ragged bursts.

"Jordan," I said gently, "what happened?"

He exhaled slowly and looked up at me. "My dad- my mum- they're back together."

My eyes widened. "But didn't he-"

"Beat her senseless and nearly kill her?" Jordan finished bitterly. "Yeah. Twice. I thought she'd wised up when we moved here. I mean, we haven’t seen him in three years." He buried his head in his knees. "I should've known there was something fishy with her wanting to see Aunt Sara so bad."

"So is he here?" Kyle exclaimed.

Jordan nodded grimly. "Yep. At home with Mum, catching up on old times. He's acting all sweetness and light, but I can tell he's still pissed that we left him. It's only a matter of time before he blows up in her face."

"Oh, mate," I said sympathetically. "That's terrible."

"You might think your dad's bad, but at least he never laid a finger on you or your mum," Jordan replied darkly. "You know what the worst part is?" he continued bitterly. "They're still married." His eyes were hollow as he stared at the floor and I knew he wasn't seeing it. "She lied to me. She told me she divorced him, that he'd never be able to get to us."

"Maybe he's changed," Kyle offered lamely.

Jordan snorted. "Please. I know my dad."

"So, what're you going to do?" I asked eventually.

"The only thing I can do. Pretend he doesn't make me want to vomit every time I see him. Pretend I actually want him to be a part of our family." Blinking rapidly, he cleared his throat. "But I won't let him touch her. I'm bigger, stronger than before. If he so much as thinks about laying a finger on her, I will kill him."

Looking at him then, I didn't doubt that he would. A heavy silence hung in the air as we looked anywhere but at each other.

Kyle broke it with a chuckle. "Look at us. We're all part of dysfunctional families. You've got an abuser for a dad. I've had more stepdads than I've had birthdays. Fletch has no brother, no mother and an alcoholic father."

"Yeah, we really put the 'fun' in dysfunctional, don't we?" I laughed.

"Jeremy Kyle, here we come," Jordan added.

We smiled hesitantly. This was the way we dealt with our problems. Making a joke out of them.

I decided to steer the conversation towards something safer: girls. “So, Jordan, how are you and Maria?”

“You sleeping with her yet?” Kyle chipped in.

With that, the tension dissipated. Jordan rolled his eyes. “Jeez, Kyle, is that all you think about?”

“Like you guys are any different,” Kyle said defensively. He turned to me. “What about you and Tory? You’ve been going out for months.”

“Weeks, actually,” I corrected.

“It just seems like that, then,” he muttered. I swiped at him. “So, have you or haven’t you?”

I hesitated, then told them what happened at my house when Tory came over. In hindsight, probably not the best idea.

“What?!” Kyle exclaimed. “She all but threw herself at you and you said no?!”

I shrugged uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to take advantage of her.”

He rolled his eyes. “Are you sure you’re a guy?”

“At least I have a girlfriend,” I said defensively.

“He’s right,” Jordan agreed. “You chat a lot of crap about girls, but you’ve never actually delivered.”

“My heart belongs to Kara,” Kyle replied insistently.

“Mate, maybe you should try fancying a girl you actually stand a chance of getting with,” I advised.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he retorted angrily. “Is it so unbelievable that a girl like Kara could like a guy like me?”

I realised my mistake and backtracked hastily. “No, that’s not what I meant; I just meant she’s taken.”

“Oh really?” Kyle said bitterly. “You know what, forget it.” He was silent for a second. “Want to play Mario Kart?”

Me and Jordan exchanged looks. “Yeah, why not?” I replied.