Storms - 11. Daniel

I had never really liked going to school at the best of times. I’d been a bully magnet since my very first day of infant school, and had started faking illness so I wouldn’t have to go in year two. But I had never truly dreaded going to school before. I did now, especially on Mondays.

From Thursday onwards, my week was okay. Loz had left me alone, as had most of my bullies, to an extent. I had talked to Julie a few times, which was nice, and I had managed to both eat and keep my food down. Monday morning I couldn’t bring myself to eat breakfast, though, and I went to school shuffling my feet, wishing I could have just stayed home.

I went through my morning lessons like a zombie, until I found myself in PE, and just seeing Loz in the changing room almost made me piss myself. I balled my hands into fists, trying to stop myself from panicking, telling my brain that it would be okay, everything would be okay.

As the lesson ended (I can’t remember what we did), he gave me this look that very clearly told me that he intended to keep his promise. I wanted to run away, skip the showers entirely, but I couldn’t. So I waited like I always did, got in the shower when everyone else had gone, and then Loz showed up.

A week went by and it happened again, and then another week passed and all of a sudden it was Halloween and every shop window was full of pumpkins and witches and paper ghosts. And I waited for Loz in the showers automatically. Sometimes he even kissed me. Sometimes.

I heard whispers of a Halloween party. I wasn’t invited, but I didn’t really care. I hardly noticed the days getting shorter and the nights darker, so settled was I into my routine of school, homework, restless sleep, and Mondays.

I had very little appetite, as any time I ate a significant amount of anything it seemed to come back up again, but one Wednesday in early November I felt hungry enough to go to the canteen and try to eat some chips.

I had only just sat down when someone said my name, and I looked up to see Julie.

‘Hiya!’ She was smiling, her blonde hair framing her face prettily. ‘You all right?’

I shrugged.

‘Mind if I sit with you?’ she asked.

‘Go ahead.’

She sat. ‘Don’t see you in here very often,’ she commented, buttering a bread roll. ‘Not that I blame you. School dinners are boring at the best of times. How are those chips?’

I shrugged again. ‘They’re okay.’

She started saying something, but then she seemed to spot someone behind me and gave them a wave.

A shadow fell across the table, and I looked up. It was Michael Storm.

‘Hey guys. Mind if I sit with you?’

‘Course not!’ said Julie with a sweet smile. ‘Have a seat. Ooh, wait, forgot to get a drink . . .’ She stood up. ‘Be right back.’

Michael set down his tray and sat down next to me. I glanced at his tray. He had chips, too, as well as chicken drumsticks and some salad. Having him sit this close to me made my heart pound loudly enough that I was sure he could hear it.

‘So, how are things?’ he asked, and I realised that I was expected to answer.

‘Er . . . Fine.’ A brief silence followed, during which I chewed my lip and looked away. Finally, I said, ‘Look . . . I’m sorry about that time, I . . . I guess I just have a hard time trusting people.’ My face felt warm and I reached for my glass of water, taking a large sip.

‘No, I’m the one who should be sorry,’ Michael replied, and my eyes met his out of sheer surprise. ‘You weren’t doing well, and I went and made it about me, like a dick. I’ve been looking for a chance to apologise, it just . . . It was hard to find the right time, or the right words.’

I found myself smiling in spite of myself. ‘You don’t seem like you struggle much with words,’ I said softly, and looked away again, embarrassed. ‘I guess I just had a hard time believing you’d want to be my friend.’

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘You see anyone else interested in getting to know me? Besides Julie?’

Michael shrugged. ‘You always seemed interesting to me.’

‘I don’t see why,’ I mumbled, and just to have something to do I filled my mouth with chips.

‘I dunno,’ said Michael. ‘You just are. I’ve noticed you. You’re . . . different. You just always seem sort of lonely, and that didn’t seem fair, somehow.’

I shook my head. ‘Hero complex doesn’t begin to cover it,’ I said.

‘Huh?’

‘Nothing. Listen, you seem really nice—’

Just then, Julie rejoined us, having picked up some juice for herself, and I stopped talking. A second later we were joined by three of Michael’s classmates, two girls and a boy. Introductions were made, and I learned that Deacon, Siobhan and Amy were Michael’s closest friends.

‘So, how are the party preparations coming along?’ Amy asked Michael.

Michael grinned. ‘Very well. Liz is a godsend. You can all make it, right?’

Julie sighed. ‘I asked my mum, but you know what she’s like.’

‘Have her call my sister,’ Michael said dismissively. ‘Liz can reassure anyone, I swear. I’m sure she’ll change her mind.’ He turned to look at me. ‘You should come too, Daniel.’

‘Me?’ It had been a long time since I’d been invited to a party. At least a year, and that time I hadn’t ended up going.

‘Of course!’ said Michael. ‘My sixteenth birthday party. Saturday next week. I’d really love for you to be there.’ And his smile was so genuine and kind that I couldn’t do anything other than nod.

After that, the conversation flowed easily. The others talked about their lessons, teachers, classmates, and the recent Halloween party, and though I mostly just listened, I quite forgot not to have an appetite. Before I knew it, all the chips were gone, and they stayed down.

* * *

Thursday, I ate with Michael, Julie and the rest of them again, and Friday, too. They were nice people, nice to me even though I was different and didn’t quite fit. Hanging out with them, it was easy to forget the bad stuff for a bit.

It was like having friends again, except that my old friends hadn’t been nice to me the way these guys were. They’d mostly taken the piss. Back then, I had been the butt of most jokes, and I had laughed along because it was still better than being alone. Seemed pathetic, looking back. I had long since stopped wondering why none of my old friends had gotten in touch to see how I was since I had moved.

Amy was a bit like that, sarcastic and always taking the piss, but she did it with a twinkle in her eye that my old friends had lacked, and she did it to everyone, so it wasn’t about me. It was just what she was like. And if she did overstep, Siobhan or Michael usually let her know, and she apologised. Siobhan was sweet. Curvy and red-headed, she was the sort of person who took care of everyone. The ‘mum friend’, as Amy put it. A bit like Julie, though somewhat more soft-spoken.

Deacon looked and dressed like a cool kid, to the point that he made his narrow, black rimmed glasses look cool, too. Underneath that, though, he was a massive geek. He loved comic books, genre television, and video games, and he was especially fond of a gaming franchise that I had played extensively on my stepfather’s gaming console. When Deacon learned that I hadn’t played the latest instalment, I was promptly invited to his house to play.

And so it was that I suddenly had Saturday plans for the first time since before the summer. Better yet, Michael was going to be there too, though he wasn’t much of a console gamer. ‘I prefer keyboard and mouse,’ he told me. ‘And I mostly just do single player.’

I went to Deacon’s house at two o’clock on Saturday. Michael was already there. He met my arrival with a wide and genuine looking smile. He had such a gorgeous smile.

‘Hey, Michael,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady, and his smile seemed to widen.

‘Hey. Glad you could make it!’

Deacon and I played all afternoon while Michael provided commentary, mostly on the unnatural physics of the ragdoll effect that happened upon death, and how firing a grenade launcher that size would knock us off our feet in real life.

‘Enemy on your left flank!’ he’d say. ‘I’d warn you that you can’t take cover behind a wooden crate when he’s firing at you with a high powered rifle like that, but apparently real world logic does not apply in this game.’

I laughed, while my character on the screen took cover behind said wooden crate, crouching low and aiming his sniper rifle around the corner when there was a pause in enemy fire.

‘Boom, headshot!’ said Deacon happily. ‘You’re not half bad at this, Dan.’

I couldn’t help but smile at that. I had always liked it when people called me Dan. It made me feel normal and included somehow. Again, I felt vaguely pathetic, but I couldn’t bring myself to care very much. I was playing video games with people who actually seemed like they wanted to be my friends. Part of me was waiting for my Carrie moment, but I ignored that part, focusing on the game. I had to let myself be happy, even if it was just temporary.

In the evening, Amy, Siobhan and Julie showed up with pizza, and we all sat down to watch a movie together, Deacon insisting it be one that Julie’s mum wouldn’t let her watch at home.

When someone’s head exploded fairly realistically on screen, Julie jumped and grabbed my arm rather painfully.

‘Sorry,’ she said, letting go. ‘I’m just not used to . . . I’m being pathetic.’

‘No, you’re not,’ I said. ‘I don’t watch movies like this very often either.’

‘Your parents won’t let you either?’

The thought of my mum caring enough to have an opinion on what movies I watched was ridiculous enough to make me laugh. Julie gave me a questioning look and I cleared my throat. ‘Mum doesn’t really care what I do. We just don’t have Netflix or Prime or anything, so I don’t have much choice in films.’

‘Oh.’ Julie paused. ‘When you say that your mum doesn’t care . . .’

I just shrugged, and she dropped it.

When the movie had ended, Amy walked Julie home as they lived close to one another. Officially, Siobhan was staying the night at Amy’s place, though in reality that was her cover story for staying over with Deacon, whose parents had stopped trying to prevent the two of them from sleeping in the same bed once they had both turned sixteen (which had happened in September). This meant that Michael and I left together, a few minutes after the girls.

‘Which way are you going?’ Michael asked. I pointed vaguely in the direction of home. ‘Cool, we can walk a couple of blocks together.’ He smiled, and I smiled back.

We set off in silence. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what, so in the end he was the first to speak.

‘I’m glad we did this.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ I replied, and meant it. I had had more fun this evening than I’d had in longer than I could remember. ‘I like your friends,’ I added after a moment’s pause for thought.

Michael grinned. ‘Yeah?’ He glanced at me sideways. ‘And what about me? You like me, too?’

My heart pounded loudly enough in my chest that I was sure he could hear it where he walked barely a foot from me. It would be so easy to reach out and take his hand, but the very idea terrified me. So, I decided to pull an Amy.

I shrugged nonchalantly. ‘You’re okay.’

To my relief, Michael laughed. ‘Little shit!’ he said fondly, and then he threw an arm around my shoulder and ruffled my hair. He removed his arm a moment later, but I felt warm where he’d touched me, in spite of the autumn chill now rendering my jacket mostly useless.

He started talking about the movie, and a song that had been in it by a band he really liked. I listened to his voice, and interjected nods and comments where appropriate, until we parted ways.

‘I’m this way,’ he said.

‘Yeah. I’m the other way.’

‘See you Monday?’

I nodded. ‘Of course.’

Michael grinned, said goodbye, and turned around and left.

When I got home I went straight to bed, and got myself off to the memory of Michael’s fingers in my hair. It was comforting, in a way, that I could still want someone.