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I hope so.
We spend the time waiting for the pizza to decide on a film. “Anything but horror. Sammy always chooses the horror ones, and they all suck.”
“Okay, well, if you’re knocking those out, no romcoms. I can’t stand them.”
“Action? Marvel or any other blockbuster?” I offer.
“I didn’t realise Marvel was a genre of film.”
“Might as well be. They have their own channel.” I lean for the remote and start flicking through the options.
“What about a classic? Shawshank?” he asks.
“Haven’t seen it.”
“Oh, well, that’s it then. Settled. It’s a masterpiece.” He snatches the remote from my hand and proceeds to sign out of my account, load up his, and skip through the screens to rent the movie. “Done.” He looks smug.
It’s not too long before the pizzas arrive, and we set ours out in front of us in the front room.
Mum eats in the kitchen before hiding away in her studio again.
We start the film, and I try eating the pizza as delicately as possible, but stringy cheese never seems to cooperate when you need it to.
Luckily, the film is good and distracts me from the boy sitting next to me. He looks relaxed — I think — I hope — like he’s happy to be here. I keep my eyes on the screen, determined not to stare at him or be caught watching him instead of the film.
When Brooks starts carving his name, I get up. “Ice cream?”
“I’ll pause it.”
“No, it’s okay.” I swallow the emotion, desperate not to choke up in front of him. I grab the tub of chocolate fudge and two spoons and hover at the door, hoping to have missed the part I could see coming.
“Here.” I hand him a spoon. “I’m not that into ice cream,” he says guiltily.
“Non-negotiable. Ice cream is a must.” I nod and hand him the tub.
“We can’t eat all of this.”
“Fine. “I get back up, grab a couple of bowls from the kitchen, and scoop out a few dollops for him. I curb the amount I would have normally served myself, take the remaining third back to the freezer, and then set about enjoying the dessert. It’s needed, given how sad the film is.
“Here.” I reach out for his bowl when he’s finished and leave them both on the table to clear later.
“Did your mum make that for you? He picks up my hand and turns my wrist around, looking at my bracelet.
“No. We got it in the summer when we were in Cornwall.”
“It’s nice. Pretty.” He seems to be thinking about something, but I don’t press him.
He keeps my hand in his, and I don’t pull it away.
And I enjoy watching the rest of the film — a film about patience and friendship.
Jeremy
Merry Christmas
Anna
You too. Are you having fun?
