Reece

Two

For the first few weeks Dylan and I bonded over our mutual hatred of Shakespeare. We were always messing around, playing noughts and crosses on tiny squares of paper instead of taking notes on Macbeth. Our friendship soon spilled out of class, and Dylan was sitting with me and Erin during lunch.

Being Dylan Nicholls, he brought with him his own group of friends, mainly comprising of burly rugby players. There was Sam Davies, Mark Roberts and James Saunders, all of whom Erin had a crush on. Naturally, wherever Dylan was, his twin wasn’t far behind.

Reece Nicholls was… how can I say this politely? He was an idiot. And he was rude, temperamental and frustrating. Reece was the complete opposite of Dylan. Not a day went by where there wasn’t a story about Reece circulating the corridors. The gossip mainly revolved around Reece and random girls; even at the age of fourteen he was destined to be a man-whore. He was brash and he hated me. The feeling was mutual.

How was it possible that Dylan and Reece were related? One was kind and charming. The other was Reece.

For weeks my feelings for Dylan increased. The more we hung out and got to know each other, the more I could feel this gravitational pull towards him. It was undeniable, but it wasn’t until Halloween that year that my feelings for Dylan were cemented.

There was a party at Sam Davies’ house and Erin and I had been invited. You see, there were certain upsides to hanging out with the popular guys. Erin dressed up as a green witch. Or was it that character from that musical? The one with the annoying song. Not that it mattered. I painted my face and put on a white dress and pretended to be a cracked doll. It was quite unnerving to see myself in the mirror.

My brown hair was loosely curled pinned half up, half down. My face was painted white with black lines resembling cracks running up and down my cheek and Erin had somehow created a big, wide eyed look for me that and my dark eyes looked even darker against the makeup. I didn’t look like my usual self. Usually I would have frowned, but that night it was good to look a little… different.

Halloween, unfortunately, coincided with my birthday. So there I was, standing in the middle of Sam’s living room, dressed as a cracked doll, getting stupidly drunk as the guys passed me one shot after another. I don’t remember much of the night, apart from the fact that I might have kissed Dylan in a darkened corner of the kitchen.

A lot of the details from that night were sketchy. I was drinking and dancing one minute, the next I was in the abandoned kitchen looking up into those perfect eyes. Dylan was dressed as Zorro, the black eye mask included, and he looked particularly gorgeous. He had the best jaw line I had ever seen. And that smile. It was even more dazzling than I had ever seen before. And then he said my name…

“Cadence,” he whispered.

That’s when I kissed him. It wasn’t one of those quick, peck-on-the-cheek kind of things, but a full blown make out session. Tongues included. It was quick, passionate and let me completely and utterly head over heels in love with the boy.

“I love you, Dylan,” I smiled as I pulled out of the kiss.