Page 21 of The Boy I Once Loved

I groan inside my own head. Good job he does not know about the dirty thoughts and dreams I have about him. He grabs my hand and rubs his finger around my palm. “You’re the only girl that really knows me, what makes me tick.” He lines his fingers up with mine and observes our hands together before he intertwines them, making my stomach flutter with crazy butterflies. My stomach chooses that very moment to make its hunger heard, which breaks the silence and has us both laughing. Keeping hold of my hand, he stands and helps me up and he gives me my crutches. Is it sad that when he releases my hand that I want to ask for it back?

We enter the kitchen to find Stacey pulling out a large roasting tray from the oven. The smell of cooked chicken makes my tummy rumble even more.

"That looks so good, Stacey," I tell her, licking my lips.

“Dylan, can you get the plates?”

I look over at him when I realise he is watching me. He is just standing there leaning on the worktop looking at me. “Dylan. Plates,” I tell him, and he blinks and turns and buries his head in the cupboard.

His mum chuckles and squeezes my shoulder as she passes behind me. “Can you grab the placemats, honey? In the same draw as always.”

The doorbell goes and Stacey claps her hands together. “Oh, I forgot to mention I rang your mum and invited her over. I thought it would be nice for us all to eat together.”

“Great,” I say flatly, and I see my lack of enthusiasm does not go unmissed by either of them. “Are we expecting more people?” I ask as I notice there are places set for seven.

“Yes, Leila and her boyfriend Christian are coming over. Leila will be made up to see you,” Stacey replies.

I smile. Leila is Dylan's older sister. She had been in my brother's year at school, so she would be twenty now. As a kid, I had always idolised her and tried to mimic her fashion sense and copied her hairstyles, or at least I tried to.

My Mum enters the room, and she looks great. She has blow-dried her hair and is wearing a burgundy polka dot blouse and black jeans.

“Hey everyone. I brought some non-alcoholic wine,” she announces, waving the bottle in her hand.

"Oh, that is thoughtful, thank you, Kay." She ushers us all to the table. "Come on, sit. I'm sure Leila and Christian will be here any minute now." She places the chicken in the centre of the table. "Charlie, come on down for dinner."

Thirty seconds later, Charlie tears into the room and races to sit beside me. “I want to sit next to Ella.”

Stacey grins and ruffles his hair. “Looks like you have another fan.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s the only one,” I tell her and I give Charlie a wink. I laugh when he tries to wink back at me and looks like he is scrunching his whole face up in the process.

“We’re here!”

I hear footsteps in the hallway and then Leila enters the room closely followed by a redheaded guy with a face full of freckles. Leila stops in her tracks and she squeals when she sees me. “I’m so excited you are back!” She rushes over and I stand as she embraces me in a hug. She leans back and playfully tugs on a piece of my hair. “Your hair is lighter, it suits you. Look at you all grown up.” She looks over at her brother and then back at me. “The terrible two back together again.”

That had always been her nickname for the two of us, as she said we were always up to mischief together. Well, we did once fill her boots with ketchup and there was the time; we put cling film over the toilet seat.

"Ella, this is my boyfriend, Christian. Christian, this is Ella, she is practically part of the family."

Christian smiles and offers me his hand and gives mine a firm shake. "Lovely to meet you, Ella, I think I may have seen one or two photos of you around the house."

“Ooh, we should get the albums out after dinner,” Stacey says delighted, and my mum is swiftly agreeing with enthusiasm. “Do you remember when they used to play house together?”

My mum chuckles. “Oh, do I. You would play mummy and daddy and have about five dolls as your babies. I remember Dylan used to always say he wanted five babies when they grew up and they were married.”

I blush red, hating where all this reminiscing was going. “Do you remember, honey?” Stacey asks him. “You made Ella an engagement ring out of tinfoil.”

Dylan nods his head and smiles shyly. “Yeah, yeah, okay, do you have to remind me?”

“Oh, but it was so cute,” Leila teases.

What Dylan didn’t know is I still have that ring. It is tucked away in an old jewellery box in my room under my bed. I remember when he presented me with it all shy and coy and told me I was his wife now I had his ring. That was about two weeks before he had told me as we sat on my grandma’s porch that as I was his wife, he should kiss me, and he had leaned over and kissed me on the lips. My reaction had been to jump back in shock and put my hand to my lips, feeling confused. He had never tried to kiss me again since that day, nor did we ever talk about it after it happened. It was like we pretended it had never happened. For me, at that tender age of eight, I didn’t really think about love. It was only in the year I turned ten that my feelings towards my best friend changed. I started to notice the flecks in his blue eyes and how his right cheek would dimple when he smiled. I remember when a girl had kissed him at the school disco, and I felt angry and hurt but I couldn’t understand why.

“Okay, dig in everyone,” Stacey announces, pulling me from my thoughts. Dylan catches my eye from opposite me and rolls his eyes as if to say ‘parents!’

We all tuck into our food and I am reminded just how good a cook Dylan’s mum is.

“So, Ella. How does it feel to be back?”

---