We Are Young

                                    

                                          
Picture of Becca on the side --->
                          
We Are Young 
                          
Me and my sister got to youth group a little early the next week so Becca could practise in the massive hall there. I smiled as she plugged her iPod into the speakers and a heavy metallic beat broke out - not my thing usually but brilliant to dance to. I sat against the wall of the hall and watched her dance, some new competition or show was coming up and I watched as she embellished chunks of street routines with loops of contemporary. That was how I used to feel; energetic and free and I remembered just how easy smiling used to be too. As much as I resented my sister I did miss those times, where we were each other's reflection, dancing just for the hell of it.
                          
The music finished and I felt almost exhausted just watching her. Becca may have kept in shape but I sure as hell hadn't – I don’t know how she did it. She scurried quickly away, looking happy for which I felt kind of glad. I didn't feel like me at that moment, I felt like one of the girls in those pictures of me on stage had come to life and the real me was locked away, gagged, in a cupboard somewhere.
                          
I heard a swish to the right and I turned my eyes to see Eli sliding on his knees towards me, grinning. I chuckled and wiggled my fingers in a kind of wave as I sat up straighter.
                          
"Nice outfit. I can actually see you for once.” He grinned, running his eyes down my tight black skinnies and tank top. “It’s kind of sexy," he said, tapping the end of my nose with his finger and I could feel my blood rushing up to my cheeks and almost reach out to touch him back.
                          
"Only kind of?" I asked, feigning disappointment. I could feel my heart beating fast from the intensity of his beautiful brown eyes. He grinned, mischief twinkling in those eyes;
                          
"You're gonna have to try harder than that," he leaned forward to brush my hair out of my eyes and I shook it back in making him smirk at me in amusement. Gently he brushed it back out of my face again and if any more blood could have stained my cheeks I'm sure it would have. I smirked as he got up and held out a hand to help me up. I took it but made no move to rise up off the floor, just sitting there with my arm stretched out so his long, warm fingers gripped mine.
                          
He raised an eyebrow at me, cottoning on to my idea and dragged me across the floor, me spinning in circles under his arm and giggling like a little girl. He joined in with my laughing and reached down to haul me up by the waist. Feeling like a flirt I relaxed in his hands, letting him pull my waist up but leaning my neck and head back so I arched up towards him. I felt his grip tighten on my waist and I couldn't hear his breath. Tilting my head forwards I looked at his shocked face, smirking down at me and I grinned, catching his smile and throwing it back at him. I pulled myself to my feet and tapped him on the cheek twice, cheekily winking at him.
                          
"Come on El, heel." I grinned mischievously at him.  
                          
He didn’t move, he just stood there with his mouth open, making me choke back another chuckle.
                          
"Heel? Really?" he cried, outraged, and I giggled. "And did you have to hit me as well? I don't believe it, I thought we were friends..." his tone was joking as he stared down at me and pretended to pout.
                          
"Believe what you want honey, it won’t make any difference." I retorted and tapped his cheek again. I smiled up at him sweetly and walked off. He quickly caught up and growled in my ear.
                          
"Can't keep your hands off can you?" his voice was low and teasing but it still gave me goose bumps and I swallowed the sudden eager lump in my throat.
                          
"Whatever you want to tell yourself hon." I refused to look at him, because if I saw those sparkling brown eyes right now my brittle flirting facade would crack and I would find myself suddenly speechless again.
                          
See, that was one of things I loved about Eli. In between seeing him I would think of things I could say to him, conversations we could have but the minute I saw him my mind was wiped clean of everything and I was on my own, improvising at times but mostly left speechless by the boy now walking beside me, his arm casually flung across my shoulders.
                          
One day he is gonna give me a freakin' heart attack.
                          
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Deciding to ditch the meeting we slipped out into the courtyard and spent those forty five minutes chucking a slightly flat ball into the hoop and humming under our breaths. We didn't bother talking, afraid that our fragile peace would break if there was anything but the soft thud of the ball and the low murmur of our voices, harmonising at times, others just trading lines.
                          
After a while we settle down on the floor, my head resting on his shoulder, silent for a while until I noticed how tense Eli's muscles were under my head.
                          
"El, you ok?" I asked anxiously. He didn't move for a moment, then he suddenly let out a breath that he looked like he'd been holding for ages.
                          
"Yeah I'm fine." he said, his voice sounding tight and worn out.
                          
"Liar." I said, but my voice was soft, and I took his hand in mine. "What is it?" Eli stayed silent for about a minute longer until the tension in the air grew to much and he sagged against the wall looking defeated. He looked straight ahead, never meeting my eye as he started to tell me some of the reasons why he his sister sent him here, why he found things so difficult to cope with. I stayed quiet as he told me his history with his mother, a depressive alcoholic, and how him and his sister had moved out as soon as they could.
                          
"She never really cared enough to stay sober..." he whispered, his voice cracking and broken and I gripped his hand harder, no idea what else  I could do. He told me about his best friend and her insecurities, her frequent bouts of bulimia and what a weight they put on him to try and hold her together, and while he was talking I swore I saw a tear slide down his cheek. It finally felt like I was getting to see the very centre of who he was, and it dazzled me. And despite the fact that he was telling me about all these things that I had no idea how to relate or respond to, it still felt good, natural to be with him.
                          
Once he'd stopped talking he leaned against me, resting his head on the top of mine and breathing slowly across my hair. "You know you have this annoying habit of being insanely easy to talk to right?" he asked and I chuckled dryly. "You should be a freaking therapist, or a spy or something, they'd tell you everything." he smirked weakly.
                          
"It's funny, most people usually hate talking to me." I mused and heard him smile above my head.
                          
"Must just be me then."
                          
That made me smile, and I couldn't help wishing I could do more for this beautiful boy next to me. I knew he'd been through a lot with his mother and his friends and it made me think; he was always the one there to pick up the pieces.
                          

                          
And I wanted to do that for him.
                          
Ok please forgive the shortness of this chapter, and that it's kind of filler but the next chapter is IMPORTANT and I needed to add in some build up to that :3 But thank you for reading this far :)