Dance With Me In the Pouring Rain

For once, there was not a cloud in sight, and for the first time that month, it actually felt like summer. It was even hot, hot enough to require sun cream and sunglasses. Not that I had mine. They were still at home, and I definitely did not feel like going to get them. Catherine offered me one of Eddie’s pairs, but they were a bit on the small side, so I just decided to do without.

"Fletch, you couldn't put a bit more cream on my shoulders, could you?" Tory asked absentmindedly.

We were getting ready to go to the park, to make the most of the nice weather while we could. Tory was wearing a tank top and shorts, which left a lot of skin bare. She said it was because she needed to get tanned, but she already was from when she went to France. I wasn’t complaining, though.

"Sure that's the only place you want me to do?" I asked cheekily, earning a smack on the arm for my trouble.

"I'll get Mum to do it instead, if you're going to be all immature about it," she teased.

I rolled my eyes at her, and held out my hand for the sun cream. "Just give me the bottle."

Squeezing a dollop into my palm, I rubbed the cream all over the exposed skin on her back, venturing under the straps of her t-shirt to do her shoulders. My fingers paused at the nape of her neck, resisting the urge to travel down to the straps of her bra.

"There," I said finally. "All done?"

She turned and smiled knowingly at me. "Enjoy that, did you?"

"Not at all," I replied seamlessly. "I felt nothing, absolutely nothing."

I could see her laughing at me as she picked up her bag and jacket just in case the weather turned nasty, which wasn't altogether unlikely.

"Bye guys!" Tory yelled as we shut the door behind us.

It didn't take us long to walk to the park. When we got there, it was positively crawling with families and couples and friends, all taking advantage of the good weather while they could.

"Let's sit here," Tory suggested, pulling me down with her onto a free patch of grass.

I glanced around, smiling. "This is where we met, remember? I was running on the path and I bumped into you-"

"Knocking the ice cream clean out of my hands," she finished for me. "You know, I still haven't forgiven you for that."

My eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Really?"

She stifled a giggle. "No."

Narrowing my eyes at her, I whacked her on the arm and lay back on the grass, resting my head on my hands. I could feel Tory settling down beside me.

"See that cloud up there?" she said suddenly, pointing to a clump of white in the otherwise clear sky. "It looks like Tony Blair."

Shielding my eyes from the sun, I squinted at it. "No, it looks like Ronaldinho. See the buck teeth?"

Tory laughed. "Now it looks like my mum."

Smiling, I closed my eyes, revelling in the warmth of the sun.

"Fletch," Tory said suddenly, poking me in the side.

Wincing, I opened my eyes. "What is it? A guy's trying to sunbathe here."

She bit her lip, hesitant, before speaking. "I was just thinking... it just occurred to me that we've only got a few weeks left until we go back to school."

Groaning, I clapped my hands over my ears. "Thanks for the reminder. Are you trying to depress me?"

"It's just… we'll be in Year Eleven. The last year of compulsory education and that's it," she said quietly, playing with the hem of her top. "Doesn't that scare you?"

"Not really," I replied absentmindedly. "After I do my GCSEs, I'm going to leave school, get a job, you know."

"And that doesn’t scare you?" She looked up at me seriously. "Fletch, unless you hadn't noticed, we're in a recession here. You can't get a job just like that, especially not without qualifications."

"So what do you want me to do, then?" I said irritably.

"I don't want you to do anything, I'm just saying-"

"We don't all have the luxury of being clever like you, you know. I'll be lucky if I pass my GCSEs, let alone do well enough to do A Levels or whatever."

"But you don't have to. University isn't the only way to get qualifications these days. You could do an apprenticeship, get an NVQ, something like that."

"Yeah, but in what? I'm not like you, Tory," I reminded her, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "I don't have my whole life mapped out. I don't even know what I want to do next year, never mind the rest of my life!"

She was quiet for a long time, her fringe falling over her face so I couldn't see her properly.

"I'm sorry," she said eventually, not looking at me. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Yeah," I muttered, leaning back down again and staring up at the sky.

Her face appeared in my vision, looking down on me. "But you could do so much," she began, but I got up quickly, pushing her out of the way.

"Yeah?" I said harshly. "Like what? Hmm? What exactly could I do? I've never had any big ambitions, there's nothing I've ever really wanted to do and I don't have any talents!"

"That's not true," she said quietly. "Fletch, I've seen your stuff. You can draw, you really can."

"Well, that's nice of you to say but-"

"No, Fletch, hear me out." She looked at me, her eyes narrowed with wilful determination. "You could do so much better than a crappy job at the supermarket. I'm saying this because I care about you. You could be anything. You could be amazing. You could be incredible."

"And you're saying I'm not already?" I replied evenly. She opened her mouth to protest but I sighed, waving it away. "It doesn't matter. Can we not talk about this?"

"Fine," she muttered, lying back down and flipping her sunglasses over her eyes.

Squinting, I lay next to her, wishing I had mine. Instead, I closed my eyes to the harsh sunlight.

Her fingers found mine and I let her hold my hand for a few seconds, before slipping out of her grasp.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. "I didn't mean to-"

"Forget it," I interrupted. "I have." That wasn't exactly true, but I didn't want to start another argument. "Where did that even come from, anyway?"

"Just been thinking about the future, you know. What I'm going to do with my life. Don't you ever do that?"

I shook my head. "Nope. I try and live in the present as much as possible."

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then shook her head and closed it again.

"What?" I asked curiously.

"Nah, it doesn't matter."

"Tory, what is it?" I pressed.

"Doesn't matter," she said firmly. "Can we please talk about something else?"

"Okay then." I thought for a minute, but Tory beat me to it.

"What are you going to do for your birthday?" she asked, that mischievous glint in her eye.

I groaned. "Nothing. And don't even think about getting any ideas."

"Aw, but you have to!" she protested. "It's your sixteenth. What do you normally do for your birthday?"

"Um, not much. Maybe go town, watch a film, nothing much. And that's the way I like it," I informed her firmly.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine then. In that case, what do you want for your birthday?"

"Nothing, Tory," I sighed. "I told you, I don't want a fuss."

"I have to at least get you something," she said stubbornly. "So what do you want? Clothes? CDs? Football things? I don't know, what do teenage guy like? Give me something to work with, here!"

"You could always ask Eddie for ideas," I suggested.

She gave me a look. "Did that already. His suggestion: a football."

I arched an eyebrow. "Wow. How... inventive."

"So come on, then," she persisted. "What do you want?"

"I don't know," I replied honestly. "Just anything."

She gave a groan of frustration. "You're useless, you know that?"

"You know, you don't have to get me anything."

"'Course I do," she replied. "What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't get my own boyfriend a birthday present?"

I grinned. "I suppose. Hey, do you want to get an ice cream?"

She was on her feet before I could finish, dragging me up with her. Laughing, I let her tow me to the ice cream van.

"Hey Alan," she greeted the man. "Two ninety-nines with a flake each and lots of strawberry sauce?"

With a start, I realised it was the same man from all those months ago, the day we first met.

He winked at me as he prepared our ice creams. "You two together yet?"

"No," I muttered, at the same time Tory announced, "Yes."

She elbowed me in the ribs. "He's just a little shy," she explained, taking the ice cream cones. "Thank you!"

We headed off, ice creams in hand, shoulders brushing.

"You know what, Tory?" I said suddenly. "You amaze me."

She giggled, leaning against me. "You know what, Fletch? So do you."