My parents invited the Lloyds round for dinner, along with our other neighbours The McKinnons. David and Karen McKinnon were not the greatest dinner guests, the were the middle-aged couple who always seemed to get a bit too drunk which lead to them openly discussing their relationship/sex life problems. And boy were there a lot of them. Their kids were twenty one and eighteen now, one working in London and the other studying at University in Dundee, which meant they were spared of their parent's drunken antics which normally involved a glass being thrown at Karen or a plate smashed over David's head and a trip to casualty for them both. Mum decided it wasn't a good idea to use the good china.
I didn't mind having the Lloyds over really. Darcie Lloyd was a good friend of my mothers, and they talked for hours and hours about how Helena and I were doing at school and about how the new trainer at the gym really made you work a sweat and about the fact his body resembled that of a young movie star. And Jeremy Lloyd was a good friend of my fathers, and they talked about new cars and about how their favourite football team was faring in the recession and about how expensive their wives gym memberships was. Sometimes, they included me in their chats... 'Geo, Geooo! Let's take the boy tae the football!' Mr Lloyd would say to my dad, slightly tipsy. 'Aye, Jer! Hows about that, Blair? Want tae come to the football and fur a drink wae yer old man and his best pal?' I'd just laugh and go along with it, never expecting to be taken to the football or out for a drink. I'd just laugh at how simple minded they both became once they'd had a bit to drink. My dad always told me to speak properly and pronounce everything correctly, but hell when my dad was drunk he could talk like a right backwards.
Helena was there. She was wearing a plain blue dress, tighter on the top and more like a skirt at the bottom, yet made in the way that it clung to her curves. She looked over to be when I was cramming the last spoonful of potatoes into my mouth and I weakly smiled. She looked away and didn't look back in my direction for the rest of the night.
After the ambulance came to take the McKinnons away, we sat in the living room with water and hot drinks for the grown ups in an attempt to sober up while Helena and I sat at the opposite ends of the room, ignoring one another. Our parents, too caught up in the liquor and excitement for Christmas, didn't seem to notice this. Good... I thought to myself … no uneasy answering of mundane questions of why I have no friends for tonight. I got up and announced I was tired and needed to sleep, and Jeremy and Darcie both agreed that Helena needed sleep too and that it was time to head home. I walked up the stairs, my feet heaved up each step to my bedroom. The pale green of my walls made me feel instantly relaxed after I closed the door. I got ready for bed and brushed my teeth and sat in my bare room, which only held a bed a desk and a wardrobe.
Turning off the light, I lay down and stared through the darkness at what I assumed was my ceiling. There were tons of thoughts running through my mind. How was Russell doing? What resolutions would I pick for the new year? But the only one I could catch with a rope and lasso down was the thought of Helena. Always when I returned to Newton Lane, did I think of Helena. Her bedroom was right through the wall that made mine. Maybe her bed was in the same position as mine and we were both simultaneously thinking about things. Maybe she was thinking about me? Not in the way I was thinking of her, I suppose. I'd always had a little thing for Helena. The girl next door complex, I suppose. We grew up together, and with my total lack of allure, she was the only girl I'd really had any interaction with. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to hold her hand. I bet her hand would be soft, with the 'Ocean Breeze' gift set of shower gels and moisturising hand cream my mum would buy for her Christmas gift every year because her mother always tells mine how much she loves it. I bet her hands would be soft. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to hug her. Have her arms wrap around your waist as yours envelop her. How sweet her hair would smell and how soft it would be. How I'd go to let go of her and she'd do that weird thing girls apparently do when they hug, and hold on to me tighter. I bet her hair would be really soft. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to kiss her. To feet her hot breath in my mouth, her bubblegum lips against my regular guy ones. Bodies moving in sync, lips dancing with one another. I bet she'd be a great kisser.
But I learned that I couldn't think about that one any more because it caused a reaction down below that would be awfully embarrassing if my mother walked in at that very moment.
YOU ARE READING
The SpectrumTeen Fiction
'My name is Blair Williams. I am seventeen years old. I'm from a little town near Glasgow. I have brown hair, blue eyes and I play guitar. I attend the small, yet quaint, Sir Wallace Boarding School in Scotland. This is the story of how my boring a...