For some reason my Dad had decided to invite Fletcher to tea with us that night. He seemed to think he was returning the favour of me eating with his family and so I wore my only nice dress for the third night and I tugged nervously at the hem for what seemed like the thousandth time.
I already knew that there was going to be a major difference between tea with Fletcher’s family and tea with mine.
For one we didn’t eat at the fanciest restaurant on site, we stuck with the buffet, mainly because Kyle was still at the stage where he just liked to eat chips and chicken nuggets rather than try stuff like paella.
It wasn’t a bad thing, it just meant that he wasn’t great at eating off a menu or actually remembering to use cutlery.
And so I nervously fidgeted on my seat, waiting for Fletcher to arrive. He said that he would meet me there, assuring me that he could find his own way. But I still twiddled my fingers hoping he would arrive soon so the tension could disappear. Fletcher always seemed to know how to do that.
He arrived just as I was about to give up waiting for him and go get myself some food.
“Sorry I’m late,” he called from half-way across the restaurant attracting everyone’s – unwelcome – attention.
“It’s fine,” I said awkwardly as he sat down on the chair next to me.
“It’s not,” he told me, “I shouldn’t have been late. Again, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I repeated, “but I’m starving so do you want to go get some food.”
Fletcher looked around at the empty table before turning to me with an extremely confused expression on his face.
“Do we not need to wait for your Dad and Kyle? Where even are they?”
“They’ve already gone to get their food,” I admitted sheepishly, “they were kind of bored of waiting.”
“Oh,” Fletcher replied, “that’s cool. If you’re hungry I’ll wait for you to get back.”
“We can go at the same time.”
“If you’re that hungry then just go.”
“Fletcher.”
“Don’t argue with me on this Nell,” he warned, “just go get your damn food.”
“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” Dad asked as he sat down with us, “because I’m back, which means you can both ‘go get your damn food’.”
Fletcher’s neck involuntarily flushed a light pink colour and he tried to hide his bashful smile.
“Are you ready?” I asked him.
“Yeah,” he replied.
The two of us made our way over to the buffet section and I piled my plate up high the way I had done every night previously.
“Hungry?” Fletcher asked teasingly.
“Just a bit,” I said in reply.
Fletcher had no room to talk though, his plate was even fuller than mine – I was actually surprised that he managed to fit it all on – and he still seemed to be searching for something else to eat.
“This is so much better than the restaurant,” he muttered in my ear as we queued for drinks.
“What do you mean?” I asked, “the restaurant was awesome.”
“Yeah,” he told me, “it’s awesome if you’re just there for one night but it gets a bit boring if you go every day. And the portions are so small, I’m a growing boy!”
I just laughed at Fletcher as his expression turned more disgruntled and filled glasses for the both of us as he continued to rant on about how small the portions were at the restaurant. I handed him the glass with a giggle.
“Thanks,” he replied.
“No problem.”
We returned to the table after Fletcher was sure that he had gotten everything he wanted – for the moment – and settled into the seats. We were next to each other – much like when we ate with his family – with Kyle opposite Fletcher and my Dad opposite me.
“Hey Fletcher,” Kyle said as we reached our seats.
“Hey!” Fletcher said in reply, “how are you? Are you enjoying your holiday so far?”
“So much,” Kyle told him, “although Nell said I was too naughty to be allowed to go scuba-diving so that was bad, but then dad said I could go so that was great!”
Fletcher raised an eyebrow at me in question and I just shook my head in reply, that was a story for another day. Not that it was that interesting, not to other people at least.
“What have you been up to?” Kyle asked Fletcher, “Nell said that you two had been playing volleyball together. Nell is really good at volleyball isn’t she?”
“She’s really good,” Fletcher agreed, “she’s been teaching me a thing or two.”
“That’s weird,” Kyle said, “Nell doesn’t usually help people. She usually tells them to figure it out for themselves and just get on with it.”
That caused Fletcher to raise an eyebrow again but this time I refused him an answer. I did however attempt to kick Kyle under the table. Unluckily for me – and luckily for him – he was too far away for me to reach and so he escaped my wrath unscathed but I was beyond pissed off at him.
“Hey Kyle,” I said sweetly, “why don’t you tell Fletcher about the new friends you have made.”
Fletcher laughed under his breath – he could tell that I was trying to distract Kyle – but turned to give my brother his full attention.
I could not say the same of myself; I tuned Kyle’s voice out and began to make plans about what Fletcher and I could do the next day. I was starting to become bored with just lying by the pool every day.
My thoughts seemed to drift in random directions though and before I knew it I was thinking about what might happen after I left the hotel, would I ever see Fletcher again?
It would of course be easy for us to swap email addresses and Skype names, to promise to call and talk whenever we could. It was an entirely different thing for us to put that into action. I had made friends on holiday before – mainly when I was Kyle’s age – and I wasn’t certain that I could remember any of their names now. The thought made my heart sink slightly, there was a part of me that thought Fletcher was different, that faded whenever it thought of saying goodbye to him.
I shook my head, I hadn’t known him long and I probably wasn’t going to know him for much longer. There was no way I should care so much about leaving him. Surely I should be glad to get back home?
I shook my head once again – luckily for me Fletcher did not notice the gesture – and returned my attention to my food which was worryingly untouched.
“You okay?” Fletcher leant over and whispered in my ear.
“Fine,” I replied.
I tried to keep my voice to a minimum but I could tell that both my Dad and Kyle heard my reply. They chose not to mention it and the previous conversation resumed – not that I had any idea what it was about.
“Do you agree?” Fletcher asked me once he and Kyle had exchanged a few more comments.
“Huh...what?”
“Are you even listening to what we’re talking about?” he said sceptically.
“Yeah,” I replied, trying to sound offended, “of course I am. Why wouldn’t I listen to what you’re talking about?”
“What were we talking about then?”
“Global warming?” I hazarded a guess.
Fletcher laughed at me but didn’t look too annoyed, Dad had a lopsided grin on his face and Kyle just shot me a look of pure exasperation. He seemed to be far too young to be feeling like that, but then again, that’s siblings for you.
“Not quite,” Fletcher told me, “in fact you’re not even close.”
“Not at all?”
“Not at all.”
“What are you on about then?” I asked.
“YouTube,” Fletcher explained, “your brother has surprisingly good taste in youtubers for such a young boy.”
“I’m ten!” Kyle exclaimed, “I’m not young.”
“Sorry,” Fletcher apologised.
The word may have come out of his mouth but the way Fletcher rolled his eyes when he turned to me suggested to me that he didn’t really mean it. I couldn’t really blame it though, I often still thought as Kyle as a boisterous four year old. It was only when he reminded me of his age that I actually realised how old he was.
“Anyway, answer my question Nell. Do you agree that Epic Rap Battles of History is the best channel on YouTube?” Fletcher asked.
“I can’t really answer that question,” I said, “I don’t really watch much on YouTube.”
Fletcher turned to me with his mouth agape, seemingly shocked at my reply. I wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t that big of a deal that I didn’t watch much YouTube surely.
“You don’t watch much YouTube?” Fletcher asked confused, “but then what do you do when you’re bored?”
“I listen to music,” I replied.
“On YouTube?”
“No on my IPod.”
Fletcher looked at me as if I was certifiably insane before stabbing his chicken nugget with slightly more force than is necessary. I heard him mutter something along the lines of ‘I don’t understand’ under his breath before he turned to me with a smile, which looked forced.
“As soon as we get access to Wifi I’m going to force you to watch some YouTube videos,” he told me.
“You should make her watch Pewdiepie,” Kyle suggested.
“No,” Fletcher replied, “she should watch Epic Rap Battles Of History.”
The two begun arguing again, both shouting back and forth about who I should watch on YouTube. I didn’t have the heart to break it to either of them that I was never planning on watching either channel. I just knew that YouTube was the sort of thing I was going to get addicted to easily and so I didn’t want to risk it.
As the two swapped jibes I thought over Fletcher’s comment.
“You know they have Wifi in reception right,” I told him interrupting Kyle’s mini speech.
“There is?” Fletcher said excitedly, “well then let’s go.”
I tried to point out to Fletcher the majority of his meal was untouched. I tried to point out that I hadn’t had pudding yet. I also tried to convince him that it was rude to leave the table suddenly just so we could go watch YouTube videos. Fletcher didn’t listen though; he just grabbed me by the hand and tugged me in the general direction of reception.
“Of course, I had to befriend an idiot,” I muttered under my breath.
“At least now you’re admitting I’m your friend,” Fletcher pointed out.
“Whatever.”
“Is that your response to everything?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well it’s either that or ‘you’re an idiot’.” Fletcher tried to imitate my voice and failed miserably.
“Go away,” I replied, “you’re so mean to me.”
Fletcher jabbed me in the ribs before carrying on his way. There was a steep set of steps up to reception and I dragged my feet as I followed Fletcher up them.
“Do we have to do this?” I whined.
“Yes.”
There was no doubt in Fletcher’s voice; he obviously was intent on me watching these stupid videos. Not for the first time I wondered if I could outrun him. My guess was that I wouldn’t be able to.
“Are you sure we have to do this?” I tried again.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“I am completely and utterly sure,” he told me, “and nothing you can say will change my mind.”
“Not even if I promised to never call you an idiot again.”
“You shouldn’t make promises you know you can’t keep.”
“Who say I won’t be able to keep that.”
“I do,” Fletcher told me, “and so there is no way I am going to give up this opportunity for that.”
“I hate you. You’re an idiot.”
“Told you that you wouldn’t be able to keep that promise,” Fletcher said.
“Technically I never made it so I couldn’t keep it,” I pointed out.
Fletcher shook his head and began to hurry me on my way towards the reception area apparently annoyed at the slow pace I was going.
The two of us settled down into a pair of armchairs that were in the middle of reception.
“Do you want a drink?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” Fletcher replied.
I got up and went to get myself a drink anyway; there was no way I was passing up an opportunity for a hot chocolate. I got one for Fletcher as well, I didn’t care that he hadn’t asked for one.
“I didn’t ask for a drink,” he reminded me when I returned to the table.
“And I didn’t ask to watch YouTube videos,” I pointed out, “but I’m stuck here with you anyway.”
Fletcher pretended to sound offended but his expression quickly turned concerned.
“Do you really not want to be here?”
“Not particularly but oh well, let’s just get on with it. The sooner we start the sooner it’s over and done with.”
Fletcher shook his head at my logic but he powered up his phone and opened the YouTube app.
He quickly typed in the channel he wanted and I leant back, preparing myself to be thoroughly unimpressed.
A beat started as the screen was dark and eventually Adam and Eve appeared on screen, for some reason Fletcher was already nearly crying with laughter. I didn’t have quite the same reaction.
As the video went on, Fletcher’s laughter became louder until we were attracting attention from all the tables around us including an elderly couple who looked like they would rather be anywhere else and the attention of a four year old child who was telling her mother that we were ‘silly people’.
I just laughed and tried to focus at the people on screen.
When it was over Fletcher turned to me with an expectant expression on his face, I stayed silent, lost for words. I really could not think of a single way to respond to that.
“Did you like it?” Fletcher asked, sounding like a two year old child.
“It was great,” I responded half-heartedly, “I don’t exactly see the point in it though. Like, what is it for?”
“Entertainment.”
“Right...”
“And comedic value.”
“Cool.”
“You weren’t all that impressed then,” Fletcher asked.
“Not really, no,” I admitted.
“Well now I feel like a failure,” he said.
“You shouldn’t.”
“But you didn’t like it,” he whined.
“I don’t like anything,” I pointed out.
“Well I can’t say that’s not true,” he replied with a smile, “you actually do seem to hate everything.”
“That’s not entirely true,” I replied.
I knew that I had been the one to say it first but it still hurt for some reason to hear Fletcher agree, he should be arguing with me about it. Not only was that our thing but surely he realised I didn’t hate everything.
“That’s right,” Fletcher mused, “you like music.”
“And volleyball.”
“And volleyball,” he repeated, “and of course we can’t forget to mention your obsessions with the coffee ice cream and hot chocolates.”
“Speaking of which,” I said, “have you tried yours yet?”
Fletcher shook his head and picked up his cup, taking a small tentative sip.
“Okay,” he admitted, “these things are heaven. I guess I can maybe see now why you like them so much.”
“You guess?”
“Fine. I know.”
I laughed at Fletcher and he laughed at me, he seemed to think that I was immature – I was only one year younger than him! – and once again the two of us attracted some strange looks from the surrounding tables.
“I’m glad I met you,” Fletcher said suddenly as we sat, still trying to muffle our laughs.
“That’s abrupt,” I told him,” but I guess I’m glad I met you too.”
“You guess?”
“I guess.”
Fletcher shook his head, I knew that he wanted me to say that I knew that I was glad I met him but the look of disappointment on his face dissuaded me from doing so. It was just too funny.
“What do you fancy doing now anyway?” he asked me, deciding to change the topic of conversation before I could ‘insult’ him further.
“There’s not much to do,” I said, “do you want to just hang out in my room for a little bit?”
Fletcher’s eyebrows shot upwards, my cheeks flushed a shade of vermillion.
“I didn’t mean it like that!” I squealed, “I meant that we could just chat. There’s a nice view from my balcony.”
“I still reckon that it sounds like you’re trying out some terrible flirtation method.”
“I’m not!”
“I know,” Fletcher admitted, “I just like to watch you squirm at the idea. I’m not that bad you know.”