The Gift of Chaos

6 - The Light of the Moon

Half an hour later, I had to admit that Scott had been right. I had never tasted such a good Fish and Chips in London, and as you can imagine, there are lots of those there. Oh, our favourite was very good, but this was something else altogether. The place he'd taken me to looked smaller on the outside than it did once you were inside. But the interior was modern and light, very inviting.

It was full of people mostly around our age, and Scott had told me that was because this was a regular hangout for teenagers in the village. When they didn't hurry off to the next town, of course.

And I was reminded of why I'd enjoyed Scott's company so much in the past. He was so funny that literally not a minute passed without me trying (and mostly failing) not to burst out laughing.

"Stop!" I finally gasped pleadingly. "My chest can't take any more!"

He chuckled, his green eyes glinting as he did so.

"All right, then," he conceded, settling back into his seat.

When I was sure I wasn't going to explode from laughing too much, I sat back too.

"So then, tell me," Scott said as I gulped down some water. "What kept you in London for the past three years?"

I hesitated. I didn't want him to think he was at fault.

"Well... the first year we didn't come, Dad broke his leg about a week before Christmas, so we couldn't make the trip down. And..."

He seemed to be guessing where my mind was headed because he said:

"If you were going to say it was more fun than little old Hollybridge, it's all right, you know."

I shook my head, though I wasn't sure what to argue. I couldn't say it aloud, but if I was honest, that was a part of the reason, if only a small one. London did have a lot more to offer, or so I'd thought at the time.

"It was just different," I finally replied lamely. "And in no way anything to do with you. I always had fun with you."

"What about now?"

I blinked at him, too caught off guard to hide my confusion.

"What d'you mean?"

"D'you wish you were in London or is this a suitable alternative?" he clarified with a smile.

"Oh! Well... on the way here... I wasn't that thrilled, I have to admit." I confessed. "But I'm getting used to the idea."

There was a silence. I drank some more water to have something to do while Scott bit into a chip thoughtfully. When I'd set my cup down, he gasped and said:

"Oh, please tell me you're still making up stories."

Taken aback, it took me a moment to answer.

"Uh... sorry?"

"Remember when we were kids, and you'd make up these crazy scenarios when we played? We used to spend hours as the same characters."

I did remember. It had been great fun, now that I thought about it. How many times had our parents had to wrestle us home for dinner because we were so caught up in our game?

"Well, I write a lot, if that counts," I told him.

"Good," he smiled, relaxing. "You had the craziest imagination, I'd hate to see it go to waste."

I rubbed my neck uneasily.

"... I don't deserve it, you know."

Scott frowned, perplexed.