Meet Everett Earnshaw, a restless teenager who's willing to give up anything to fly a plane. But despite the support of his friends and family and the joy of befriending the newest RAF cadet Amelia, life is far from evergreen.
If you love somebody, better tell them while they're here – Imagine Dragons
*
Everett's fingers drummed against his legs in anticipation. His body was buzzing, his grin was widening and his whole being was lighting up like a Christmas tree (even if it was the middle of January). What could make him so hyped except meeting his heroes, the legendary Imagine Dragons?
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"Are we nearly there yet?" Everett asked Dad, resisting the urge to spin on the spot. Dad laughed.
"A watched pot never boils, son! If y' keep banging on about it, it'll feel like flipping forever!"
It was true that it had felt like an eternity that Everett had been in this queue when it was probably only three hours, but who could think of mundane things when there was the promise of something so good?
"What are we going to say?" he said.
"I dunno, we'll make it up when we get there!"
Everett's forehead creased in concentration. "I think I'll say I'm their number one fan," he mused, "or would that be too cheesy? No, wait, I'll say I like their songs. Particularly On Top Of The World. Or maybe Start Over."
"I'm sure they'll love whatever you say," said Dad, giving his son a pat on the shoulder, "after all, we've come all the way out here, and that really says something, don't it?"
Everett nodded, all the while speculating how long the queue was and how many more minutes they would have to wait. It could be any second now, surely. His foot tapped impatiently against the stone ground...
Then the people in front cleared, giving Everett as full a view of his heroes as he'd dreamed of. The guys who'd sung the songs that had kept him sane; the guys who seemed to understand him even though they'd never met before now. Suffice it to say it was pretty overwhelming.
"Hi there, what are your names?" said Dan Reynolds, holding out a hand to shake.
"I'm Jonny," said Dad, shaking the proffered hand, "and this is Everett, your number one fan." Dad winked at him; Everett wanted to curl up at the cringiness.
"Pleasure to meet you," said Daniel Platzman. Everett looked at each member's smiling face and felt incredibly grateful to them. These guys had been rooting for him when no one else had through their tunes he treasured and their lyrics he lived by.
Just as every member had signed his piece of paper, he resolved to say something to them.
"Thank you for making your music. It's awesome," Everett said, grinning giddily.
"You're welcome," said Ben McKee. His wishes were warm and genuine, unlike some artists' at other signings he'd attended. All too often, meeting his heroes had proved to be a complete flop. Maybe they were only friendly because it was early in the day, but he took the kindness anyway. God knows he'd need it when he next faced a rocky day.
*
"How was the signing, sweetie?" asked Mum.
"It was great, well worth the wait," replied Ev breezily, opening the cupboard and taking out a packet of crisps.
"I'm glad. Hey, put that back; dinner'll be ready in half an hour!"
With a bashful grin, Everett put his snack back where it belonged. All the day's excitement had increased his appetite, but he didn't dare pick a fight with Mum. A bright idea came to his mind.
"Can I help with the dinner?"
Mum turned around animatedly. "Of course! I've been waiting for this day to arrive!"
So Everett picked up a knife and proceeded to chop some carrots. And eat a few circles while Mum wasn't looking. Though she did glance at him with something like suspicion in her eye.
Today's meal was pie, veg and chips with gravy, a classic in the Earnshaw household. And for a good reason – it was tasty. Again, Everett found himself waiting a long time for something he wanted a lot. Well, except for the moments when he took out a cheeky chip from the oven to tide him over. His appetite was truly insatiable.
Finally, the family sat down together to enjoy their meal. No one savoured it more than Everett did. What better way to end a good day than with a good meal?
BONK.
The Earnshaws jumped out of their skins.
"What was that?"
"I don't know."
Again, the sound – BONK. Everett leapt to his feet, adrenaline pumping, unsure what he'd find as he weaved through the house. A robber? No, too unlikely. Probably just a bird that banged into the window. But why would it be stupid enough to do it more than once?
He searched the kitchen, the bathroom and his bedroom. No potential noise-makers, yet the noise persisted. Then he went into the living room, eyes whizzing frantically for a rational explanation, and he was just about to leave when something made him stop. What was that by the window? His eyes focused – what he saw filled him with dread.
Freddy. Somehow or other, that idiot knew where he lived. But how? He'd always been so careful about his personal information. Only his friends should know. Yet Freddy knew. And he was throwing eggs at the window like he wanted it to break.
Freddy smiled at him, and Ev instantly checked himself. Straight face, perfect posture, cool composure. He walked out of the room in an unperturbed manner, surveying his surroundings as he went. For all Freddy knew, he could've been in there to find his keys.
"Just some kid egging the living room window," said Everett at his parents' questioning looks. He added in a shrug just to reinforce how amazingly aloof he was at this news.
"Who is it? Do you know them?" asked Mum. Her voice trembled, and Everett's whole being wanted to echo her example. But he wouldn't, not a chance.
"Nope." His eyes fell on the millionaire shortbread that had appeared since he took off around the house. He picked up a spoon to eat it despite his vanishing appetite. Dad began to talk about his pub mates' hilarious tales; the danger had passed. Now he could go back to the safety of his room and sip on his milkshake that smelled suspiciously similar to the school canteen's version – yes, the milkshake he'd had that fateful day in year 9, the banana one –
"You know you're bananas just like your milkshake," Freddy said, and his cronies snorted in an undignified manner.
"Well, what do you know about bananas?" a smaller, bolder Everett retorted, slamming his milkshake on the side of the table. "I bet you've never seen a piece of fruit in your life."
One of Freddy's friends whistled. "Ooh, that really is a burn. Missing out on your five a day, mate!"
"I'll learn to live with it," Freddy replied, rolling his eyes, "well, have a nice day, nutter!"
Fury. All he could remember was blinding, consuming fury. And, somehow, someway, he punched Freddy right in the face. And it felt good, so good. He was going to walk away when he felt pain pierce his jaw. A mighty hit from Freddy. He should've turned back then, but a wild instinct led him to hit back and keep hitting until it seemed like all the punches in the world would never be enough to express how angry he felt. No, that wasn't the right word. How hurt he felt.
Everett woke up sweating in his bed. His hands were shaking, his body aching, his heartbeat in fight or flight mode like it remembered the fight. And he knew one thing with complete certainty – he could not face Freddy tomorrow at school.
