by Cara E Holt
“Is that what you are wearing?” My mum asks as she looks me over from head to toe.
I look down at my outfit, plain black leggings and a gym shark hoodie in turquoise. I have thrown my hair up into a messy bun and put on my white converse. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Well, you could have made an effort,” she tells me, frowning.
“I think she looks great, Mrs H, besides it an informal thing.” He stands up and picks his phone and keys off the worktop. He gives my mum a quick kiss on the cheek and a beaming smile replaces her frown.
“You two have fun. Make sure you are home for eleven!” She shouts after us.
His car is a black Honda. Silently, we both climb inside and buckle up. “Like old times hey, my Ella Umbrella.”
My response is to scowl at him and then turn my attention to the view outside.
“My mums invited you for dinner Thursday night.” He informs me as he pulls off the driveway.
“I’m busy Thursday.”
He chuckles in response. “And let me guess, the Thursday after that and the one after that.”
“Ah, see now you’re catching on.” This earns me another smile from him, and he just shakes his head and laughs.
"Hey, there's an overnight ghost tour on at that old manor house in Pennington. You used to love anything like that, right?"
“No, not anymore.” I lie through my teeth. “People change a lot in three years.”
He reaches for the console screen in his car. “I bet you still like these guys though.” The music blasts out and I can’t help but grin when the Vamps–shall we dance, blasts through the car. Dylan used to tease me rotten for my crush on Brad.
I shrug and return my eyes to the view outside the car. I hear him chuckle and look over and he gestures to my leg, which is bobbing up and down to the beat of the song. Frowning at him, I cross my legs in an attempt to stop my body from responding to the music. A few minutes later, we pull up outside Connor's house. The door opens and Connor bounds down the drive and he smiles widely when he sees me sitting in the front.
“Ella, girl. You came!” The surprise is obvious in his voice.
"He bullied me into it," I tell him and I see Dylan smirk at my words.
Connor playfully pats both my shoulders from where he sits behind me. “This is like the good old days. Remember when we made that den on the back field?”
I laugh. "Err when who made the den? If I remember rightly, Dyl and I made it and you and Luke Bennett gate crashed."
“Hey! I helped put the tyre swing up,” he protests. That summer had been fun. We spent weeks making a den in a circular area between some trees on the field at the back of our houses. We had argued for days about the name of the den. I had wanted to call it Hogmeade because I was obsessed with the HP books. Dylan had wanted to call it Isengard in reference to Lord of Rings, and Connor had wanted us to call it Asgard because he loved the marvel world and Thor.
We arrive at the house and I can hear loud music coming from inside. This looks like a house party to me.
“I thought this was a quiet thing?”
Dylan shrugs his shoulders and grins at me. “Your mum wouldn’t have let you come if she knew it was a party.”
I follow behind them up the steep driveway. He doesn't knock he just opens the door and heads inside. As soon as I'm inside, I veer off to the room on my immediate right. I see Dylan turn around and look confused when he can't see me. I duck behind a tall guy and push my way through the crowd. The place is packed. Girls look at me in my leggings and hoody and they give me disapproving looks. I weave my way through the main living room and out to an open plan room that backs out onto the back garden. The full back wall has glass sliding doors that are open. I stand on my tiptoes to glance around the room, seeing if I can spot Dylan. Sighing with relief that he doesn't seem to be in this part of the house, I head over to where I can see the drinks. I pour myself a coke and lean against the kitchen counter and people watch. I love people watching.
“Well, well, it’s pretty girl.” A deep voice whispers in my ear, making me jump. I turn and find the boy with the copper-coloured hair from my class today. He wears black ripped jeans and an eighties rock band t-shirt.
"Actually, my name is Ella, not pretty girl," I tell him, a brow cocked. I hope he doesn't think his smooth lines will work on me.
He grins at my response and holds out a hand. “I’m Danny.”
I look at his hand and I reluctantly shake it.
“So new girl, you arrived with Dylan.”
I roll my eyes. “Unfortunately for me, I did.”
He furrows his brows. “You don’t sound happy about that?”
I snigger and I bury my face in my cup as I take another drink. “Dylan’s not somebody I want to spend my time with. We hate each other.”
“That so?” He gestures with his head out at the crowd. “In that case, I should probably warn you he is on his way over.”
I follow his eyes and see Dylan pushing through the crowd, his eyes on me. Luckily, he’s stopped by everyone he passes.
"Thanks for the heads-up Danny." I offer him a quick smile before I disappear into the crowd. I worm my way through to the outside and wander around outside for a while. Eventually, I get bored and head back inside. I make my way through to the lounge area and hesitate when I see Dylan and Connor sitting on the sofa. A pretty blonde with bobbed hair sits on his lap and I roll my eyes.
“Ella. Over here!” Connor stands up and shouts to me, smiling and beckoning me over with his hand. Realising I have no choice but to go over, I weave my way through to them. The girl in Dylan’s lap scrutinises me as I walk over.
“Where did you disappear to, girl?” Connor asks me.
“Here and there,” I reply with a shrug of my shoulders.
Connor shakes his head, smiling. “Anyone would think you were avoiding us.”
“Who, me?” I ask, feigning innocence. Dylan has deposited the girl off his lap and he’s sitting there looking at me with an irritated look on his face. His stare makes me feel uncomfortable. I gesture over my shoulder. “Anyway, I’m going to go mingle.” I turn to scarper off, but a hand grabs me by the waist and pulls me down on to the sofa.
“What the?” I find myself sandwiched between Dylan and Connor. Connor chuckles and takes a sip of his beer. I turn to scowl at Dylan. “Did you just manhandle me?”
Dylan’s eyes meet mine, and he leans into my ear. “Stop running from me, El.”
I turn sideways so I can better look at him. “When are you going to accept that I don’t want us to be friends?”
He leans in, his face is inches from mine, and I gulp. “Never.”
I turn away from him and grab Connor’s hand as I jump up from the sofa. “Dance with me, Connor.”
Connor groans but allows me to pull him up and over to the makeshift dance floor where girls are grinding against each other hoping to catch some sex-driven boy’s attention. Connor grabs me around the waist and dips me, making me laugh. He pulls me back up and I circle my arms around his neck.
“Do you have to be so hard on him?”
I look up at him and sigh, knowing full well who he is referring to. “I don’t want us to be friends. Too much has happened. I have changed, he has changed.”
Connor nods, a frown still marring his tanned face. “He’s a good guy. He’s had a tough year.”
"Yeah, it must be tough,” I snort, “fighting off the girls and being the sixth form god."
Connor shakes his head as if he is almost disappointed in me. “His dad left you know. He’s living with his twenty-five-year-old secretary.”
I stop my swaying. “Wow, really?” My eyes look over to where Dylan is sitting concentrating on the label, he is peeling off his beer bottle. “That’s sad. His mum and dad always seemed happy and in love.”
Connor nods. “I know, right? He doesn’t talk about it much, but I know he’s found it hard.”
A part of
me itches to go over to him and make that sad look on his face go away, but then I remember I hate him, and I pull that cage of steel over my heart. “Yeah, well, life is hard. We all have our shit to deal with.”
Connor looks like he wants to say more, but he must decide he has pushed me enough and instead he stays silent and dances with me. After a couple of songs, Connor decides he has had enough and pulls me off the makeshift dance floor back towards Dylan. He stops midway there abruptly, causing me to bump into the back of him.
"What's the hold-up?" I ask, peering around his arm.
Connor’s jaw ticks and he looks irritated as he takes in Dylan with his tongue down some girl’s throat. “Fucking idiot,” he whispers.
“That’s Dylan for you,” I snigger. “Thinking with his dick as always.” I pull my hands from Connors. “I need the loo.”
I hurry off upstairs and find a bathroom. Closing the door, I sink to the floor and rest my head on my knees. Being back here is harder than I thought. Old feelings that I thought I have long ago buried are resurfacing. Dylan stirs memories and emotions in me that I want to keep away from.
I empty my bladder and give myself a pep-talk in the mirror before I make my way downstairs. I stop halfway down as I spot Dylan and Connor in the hallway, deep in conversation. Connor looks like he is laying into him and Dylan stands there with a frown marring his beautiful face as he listens. I continue my steps down and Dylan catches sight of me and breaks into a smile.
“Here she is.” He gestures with his head as he swings the front door open. “Come on Ella umbrella, we are going on a little trip.”
I look in question at Connor and he just shrugs his shoulders at me.
“Are you coming?” I ask him, hesitating on the last step.
Dylan looks back at me and smirks. “Don’t worry, Connor is coming. I know the thought of being alone with me is dreadful to you.” With that, he storms off down the drive towards the car.
Connor gives me a sympathetic smile and ushers me out.
“Do you know where we are going?”
“Not a clue,” he chuckles, following behind me.
When we get to the car, Dylan has belted up and has the car started. He looks up at me as I go to open the rear door. “Upfront, El.”
Ignoring him, I climb into the back of the car and with a sigh and a shake of his head, Connor climbs into the front. “Just like old times, huh?”
I snigger as I lean back into the back seat and fold my arms. “The good old days are gone. We were different people back then.”
Dylan laughs, keeping his eyes on the road. “I bet you still sleep with a lamp on. I bet you still do that thing with your tongue when you’re concentrating. I bet you still love Harry Potter. We might be older, but I still know who you are and what makes you tick.”
I scowl at him in the driver mirror. “I’m not the same girl, Dylan. I never will be.”
We all sit in silence for the rest of the drive. He pulls to a stop and I sit up and look at where we are.
“Why are we at the park?”
Not giving me an answer, Dylan climbs out of the car and starts walking towards the swings. Frowning, I climb out the back and start to follow but then I realise Connor is still in the car.
“Come on,” I order.
Connor sighs and slouches further into the passenger seat. “I’m guna hang here. I’m tired of playing referee between you two.”
“Traitor.” I accuse, and he answers me with a sad smile.
“I was always the third wheel in this trio, and I was and I still am okay with that. Humour him.” Connor’s window closes, effectively ending our conversation.
Feeling mightily frustrated, I take off after Dylan. He has passed through the park and is heading into the wooded area behind. I jog to catch up with him. “Want to tell me where we are going?”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” he answers without looking back at me. He continues into the trees and I jog quicker to keep up with him. When I catch him up, he is standing and looking at a large tree in front of him.
“You turned into a tree hugger?”
He chuckles but keeps his back to me. “I come here when I need to get away from everything.”
“You come to a secluded area of the park to think?” I arch a brow. “That’s not creepy at all,” I joke.
He turns and sits himself down, with his back resting against the solid trunk of the tree. "This is the tree I taught you to climb. This is the tree we carved our initials in. Right there." His fingers touch a part of the trunk just to the right of his head.
I know very well that we climbed this tree and I also know that there is a heart carved there with our initials in. "Is there a purpose to all this Dylan? Because I kind of want to get home."
His eyes hold mine as he sits there and just watches me. I can’t read him. “I came here because I felt close to you when I did.” He releases a long sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I want my best friend back. I need to be in your life, Els. I let you go once; I won’t do that again.”
My heart pounds in my chest. “We can’t be friends.”
“Why?” He demands. He stands and comes to stand toe-to-toe with me. “I’ve said I’m sorry. I know I was a dick.”
I shake my head and look down at our feet. “It isn’t enough. You were the one person I thought would always have my back, and you turned on me.”
“I don’t know how to make this right,” he admits, running a tired hand over his face.
I sigh. "Then don't. Let's just agree to go our separate ways." I can't take looking at him anymore. I can't take the pain I can see in his eyes. I want to believe he is sorry, but he broke me, and I can't let him break me again. Plus, I can never be friends with him as deep down I had always wanted more, and he hadn't. I take a step back to put some distance between us, not realising there is a tree root behind me, I fall backwards and twist to put my hands out and break my fall.
“Fuck,” I hiss. My ankle hurts – badly.
Dylan rushes to my side. “Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” I growl as I try to breathe through the pain.
He crouches down and gently put his hand on my ankle. “You think it’s broken?”
“Well, I’m in agony, so what do you think?” I hiss. I lean up on my arm and attempt to stand.
“Stop El, you’ll make it worse. I’ll carry you.”
I stop still. “Like hell you will.”
“Okay, let’s see you walk, princess,” he says fighting a smile.
Glaring at him, I bend one leg and try to push up on my hands but it’s useless as I can’t put any pressure on my other leg.
“You done?” He asks, looking smug.
I glare at him. “This is all your fault.”
He chuckles as he steps forward and puts his hands under my knees and my arms and he lifts me. "You were the one who tripped. It's not like I pushed you."
I scowl at him. He carries me like I am weightless, the stupid muscles in his arms flexing. I don’t like being this close to him; it makes me nervous.
“Remember when we tried to skateboard down that hill behind Connor’s house and you fell on top of me and broke my arm.”
“That was not my fault. You were the one who fell off the skateboard.”
He grins. “Yeah, because you and Connor were pushing it so fast.” His eyes leave mine and I catch him looking at my chest.
"My eyes are up here," I tell him, letting him know I caught him.
“You grew boobs El.” He grins mischievously.
"And you grew a giant dick on your head," I tell him with another scowl. This just makes him chuckle louder and it makes me even more aggravated. We clear the trees, and he walks us through the park back to the car.
“Uh-oh, what have you broken now?” Connor asks, leaning his arms on the roof of the car.
“You make it sound like I’m the clumsy one. Dylan broke more bones than me.”
Connor laugh
s, and Dylan continues his smirking. “That’s because Dylan was always the one coming to your rescue.”
Dylan places me gently in the back of the car and as carefully as he can, he lifts my leg gently up on to the seat. I wince in pain as my ankle comes into contact with the seat. “A&E here we come!”
Chapter Three
I groan when we arrive at the emergency department. The place is packed. On the way here, I rang my mum to let her know what had happened. Mum didn’t have a car, so Dylan assured her he would look after me and keep her updated.
I have been triaged by a nurse and I am waiting to see the doctor. Connor got bored and he went off to the cafeteria to see if he could get us some food and drinks.
“You’re quiet,” Dylan comments, leaning back in his seat as he studies my face.
I turn and glare at him from where I sit beside him. “That’s because I’m in pain thanks to you. Why did you have to take us to see that stupid tree?!”
“Hey that tree is not stupid,” he replies.
Across from us sit an old couple. Holding hands, they are watching our exchange and smiling.
“Young love,” the lady says with a smile. “I met this one in high school.” She gestures with her head to the man sat beside her.
“Remember when we used to bicker like that?” Her husband asks.
The lady raises a brow. “We still bicker like that now.”
“We do, and she loves it.” He winks, grinning at us both, his face wrinkled with time.
"We're just friends," Dylan tells them.
I glower at him and look back at the couple. “We are not friends. We used to be.”
The old lady looks from me to Dylan and smiles. “I used to hate him too.” She gestures with her head to her husband, who laughs.
"She did. Had the door slammed in my face many a time. I didn't give up though. I knew my Lizzie was the one for me."
They look at each other and grin. It is a sweet moment to watch. “Fifty-five years later, here we are. Three children and five grandchildren.”
