A Short Story About Two People - Part 1

He picked up his bike and saw his breath. As he cycled he pretended the warm breath was smoke, trying to blow rings like he'd seen film stars do with cigarettes - with no success. The two mile ride was extremely far for a 10 year old to travel, especially on such a cold day; without his mum's permission or knowing; and on a vehicle which he was certain would see it's demise or his demise before the end of the journey. But for Owen it was worth it. He really liked her. He wasn't sure what he liked about girls yet, or what had begun to draw him to them, but he liked this girl more than he liked the rest of the girls at her school. She was different, Owen thought.

Kate loved B*witched. Owen being the esoteric 10 year old romantic that he was liked Kate so much he bought a copy of the B*witched album and learnt all the words to all of the songs. After doing so he quickly realised this was not applicable in any way, shape or form. He was 10, so Kate coming around his house; seeing the CD and quipping 'Oh you like B*witched too' and realising they were meant to be and then fingering the day away was not on the cards. Firstly he was too shy for his mum to know he liked a girl; secondly he didn't know about fingering or sex things, and was a little too scared to even kiss a girl.

It's not as if you could recite the lyrics as poetry like it was William Shakespeare or Ezra Pound and woo her that way - the lyrics: 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours/Gotta let me in/Let the fun begin' were frankly too creepy and too rapey for their own good. The only time he could see a use for this was at a school disco, but even then he refused to dance with girls while his best trousers knees remained entirely clean, with him having free roam of the polished school hall floors to slide around on.

As he got to the end of Kate's street he slowed down, got off his bike and walked whilst pushing the bike, as not to look flustered and sweaty and eager to impress (even though he very much was). He was uncertain as to whether she was going to be in, but he knew her mum liked him so he wasn't as timid as he would have been ordinarily in this situation - Kate's mum thought it was extremely cute that her daughter was so smitten by Owen, and equally cute was Owen's doting looks at Kate. He knocked. He knocked again. Kate's mum opened the door and gave a warm and welcoming smile at him, knowing what he was about to say.

'Is Kate in?' he asked.

'Yes I'll go and get her' she replied, almost giggling with a giddy overriding sweet feeling.

Kate came down the stairs and out of the door, and Owen slowly lowered his bike on to the grass of the front garden, glancing at Mrs Harbrine, contorting his facein a way that asked the question 'Is it okay if I leave my bike here?', to which she smiled and nodded, as to say 'It's fine, you get on and have fun'. So they walked down the alley next to her house towards the green. They said nothing. They were simply too shy and nervous for words to play a part in this social interaction. Arriving at the green they sat on a bench and Owen began his investigation.

'Do you fancy anyone now?' he asked in the childishly cliché way you do when you first start liking the opposite sex.

Shocked at how out of the blue it was she gingerly replied 'Yes'.

It was Owen. Owen knew it was him, and Kate knew Owen knew it was him. But wanting to hear it from her he continued the inquisition.

'What form are they in?' he bluntly asked.

'Our form' she said, knowing the answer was growing ever nearer - but unaware at the sheer will power Owen was about to exude, with the poorest attempt at a slightly different version of Guess Who anyone will have ever seen.

Owen then - acting the fool - ploughed on to say every boys name in their form conveniently missing himself out. Then came the climax they both knew was inevitable but neither had had the foresight to think what they would do after Kate had confessed.

'Well, who then?' Owen asked, pulling an over-exaggerated oh-now-I'm-stumped sort of face.

Kate waited, and left a pause so pregnant that it's waters had broken, as she looked at Owen annoyed that she had been linguistically cajoled into this, even though they were both secretly excited and enjoying it.

'You' - firmly putting the ball back in Owen's court.

They didn't know what to do next. Kate's face was ruddy from the cold but was now becoming more and more crimson as the air went empty with a dearth of things to say. Owen smiled, tried not to seem ecstatic (which is how he really felt), but played it down and showed a smile that demonstrated he was pleased it was him. After what seemed like a lifetime to Kate, Owen began to look as if he was about to say something and break this fast of the spoken word. Here it was the moment of truth.

'I like you too, Kate'.