Page 2 of The Boy I Once Loved

“Listen, I know we haven’t hung out in a while, so err, I wondered if you wanted to come to mine tonight? You know we could watch-”

Taking a big breath and promising myself I wouldn’t cry, I turned to face him. “Dylan, please do me a favour okay? Don’t EVER speak to me again. We are NOT friends.” He winced at my words and took a step back. “We haven’t been friends for a long time. So why don’t you just run along and go play with your cool friends and maybe invite Beth over to watch movies."

He looked at me, sucker-punched for a few seconds. “Is that what you want?”

I nodded resolutely. “Emphatically, yes. I want you to stay away from me.”

He gulped and cleared his throat and then nodded. Collecting my bar from the machine, I shouldered my way past him and out into the schoolyard. I hurriedly found myself the nearest girl’s toilets and cried my poor fourteen-year-old heart out.

From that day forward, Dylan and I passed each other in the schoolyard like strangers. There was no smile, no wave, zero eye contact. To anyone on the outside, it would appear that we never knew each other. That Dylan James wasn't the boy who gave me a peg up when I couldn't reach the first branch of the tree we wanted to climb. That he wasn't the boy who I had burping competitions with when we camped in his back garden at age nine.

About two weeks after the events of that week, the bottom of my world fell out. Loud Banging on our front door woke me in the middle of the night. Milo our dog was barking like crazy, and I heard my mum pad down the stairs and answer the door. When I'd heard my mum's heartbroken wails, I sat bolt upright in bed. Goosebumps made the hairs on my arm stand tall. The knock at the door had been the police. My brother Liam had died in a car accident. My pain-in-the-ass brother who hogged the shower in the morning and always tugged on my hair because he knew it annoyed me, was gone.

The following few days passed by like a nightmare. I had felt like I was watching the tragedy of my own life from the outside. I’d felt so alone. My mum had retreated into herself and was barely functioning. I knew she had lost her son, but I had lost my brother and I needed her. I had no one. I honestly thought that despite what had happened that Dylan would call and see me. He had grown up knowing my brother all his life, and he would know how much I was hurting. He didn’t come around though.

The day of the funeral came, and he was there in church with his parents, who hugged both my mum and me. He stood there beside his parents in his black suit that looked too big for him and he said nothing to me. I needed him to save me from the grief I was drowning in, and he did nothing.

A month later I was sitting in the schoolyard reading a book when he walked past me with his group of friends. He had Beth Jones cuddled up under his arm as they walked by.

“What book are you reading?”

I looked up to find that Beth had come to a stop in front of me. Her brown eyes were upon me and a smug look was written across her face.

“Leave it okay?” I heard Dylan mumble in her ear.

“I asked you a question?”

I sighed. I was too tired to deal with her today. Every night I would awaken after having nightmares about my brother being in a car accident. “It’s a book called Afterlife.”

She sniggers. “Afterlife?” I could hear the condescending tone in her voice, loud and clear. She leaned down. “Are you seeing your dead brother’s ghost?”

My breath stuttered in my chest as I looked up at her. How could she be so cruel? My eyes move from hers to Dylan. Briefly, he looked at me and I saw a flicker of emotion, but then he tugged on Beth's arm. "Leave it. She's not worth it." With a scowl, she allowed him to put his arm back around her shoulder and pull her gently away.

I let out a breath I had been holding in.

“Ella.” I looked up to find Connor had held back. “Are you okay? I mean Beth had no right.”

Standing, I’d plastered on a fake smile. “I’m fine. Run along and catch up with your friends, Connor.”

He looked conflicted, and he took a step towards me. I couldn’t cope with his sympathy. If he tried to be nice to me, I knew that I would full on break down in front of all my fellow students. I swung my bag up on my shoulder and bulldozed past him, making sure I went in the complete opposite direction to which Dylan and Beth had gone.

Life the following few months did not get any easier. Mum spiralled into a deep depression. She barely left her room. She left me to fend for myself. Empty alcohol bottles littered the floor of the house. She lost her job and final reminder bills had started piling up on the living room table. I was fourteen and had no idea what to do, so I picked up the phone and call my Uncle Matt.

Uncle Matt arrived two days later and carried my mum out of bed and deposited her into a rehab centre. As for me, having no parent to parent me, I had no choice but to pack up and move to the other side of the country with my uncle. I had thought at the time that it would be a temporary thing, a few months to allow mum time to get better. Only she didn't get better. She left rehab after two weeks and continued to drown her grief with alcohol. Fast forward three years and my raging alcoholic mother has finally got her act together and has remembered she has a living child who has been without a mother for three whole years. So yesterday, I stood in the drive of my childhood home as my Uncle pulled me in for a tight hug.

“You call me, okay? At least twice a week.” I nodded and buried myself in his arms. “It’ll be okay, Ella.”

I give him a brave nod as we pulled apart, and he quickly hugged my mum who had been silently watching us say our goodbye’s and I watched him drive away back out of my life, leaving me in a place that is filled with sad memories.

Pulling myself back to the present day, I hitch my bag over my shoulder and glare at two kids who are gawping at me and my bike. My aggressive face must do the trick as they quickly avert their eyes. I manoeuvre my way through the throngs of kids catching up before the school bell goes and enter the school reception area. A friendly-looking lady types speedily on the computer keyboard.

“Hi. I’m Ella Harrison. Today is my first day.”

She smiles and stops her furious typing. “Ah yes, Ella. Welcome to Lilford high.” She pulls out some papers and hands them to me. “Here is your timetable and a map of the school. They teach most of the sixth form subjects over in the sixth form building.” She points to today on the timetable. “You have A-level History first period.”

I take the timetable from her and I see her eyes briefly fall on the tattoo on my wrist. Yes, I was seventeen and had tattoos. The one on my wrist that the receptionist had clocked is a feather that represented the loss of my brother. It isn’t the only one that adorns my skin. I have one that runs the length of my spine in italic writing that says, ‘Still I Rise’ and another adorns the back of my neck, a Shadow hunter rune that symbolises Strength from one of my favourite book series. “Ah, here we are. Amber will take you to your first lecture.”

I turn around to find a tall willowy girl with brown wavy hair and big brown eyes. “Hi, you must be Ella. I’m Amber I’m your assigned buddy.” She smiles and I can’t help but smile back. The girl has a warmth about her that pulls you in. She links her arm through mine. “The school’s not that big, so you should find your way around fairly quickly.”

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