Sandcastles

James didn't thought much about it, when Michelle—his one and only beloved Cousine from Northern Irlands Derry—said to him, that he wouldn't be the only lad in their school and Squad.

James thought, it could be much worse—like being in all Boys school, where they probably gonna torment him, like a football, because of his english upbringing—than being in Michelle's girls squad—or actually, that's what his Aunt said, because James thought he could handle himself just fine in a all boy school—but Aunts, like mothers, like to worry over their children.

When stepping out of the bus and onto the grounds of Our Lady Immaculate College—a mouthful of a name—James did his best to look like a toughen up boy, acting chilling cool, like the lads from the 60's—because they had some style, but with his school uniform it doesn't really brought out what he intended to look like—still, James hold his chin high.

The girls just all giggled at him, pointing their fingers—and James felt silly now, just a little, but he doesn't stop in his act.

»Ya really look stupid, ya know that asshat? Stop with yer acting of being some lad. Yer an embarrassment for me.« Michelle scolds, slapping him good on the arm and a scornful expression adorns her makeup'd face.

James wouldn't tell a soul—because Michelle would kill him—but Michelle without makeup looks like a different person.

»Well, I'm the only boy here, in a herd full of girls, what am I supposed to do then?«

»No yer ain't. I told ya, yer won't be the only lad. I told ya about [Name], didn't I? So, would ya stop with yer nonsense fucking whining.«

»I thought you meant that as a sort of joke, with that [Name] person....«

James flinched when Michelle turned to him in a flash—anger radiating off her like a heater and her grimace of a expression, was unsettling.

Erin and Clare stared at him, brows raised and looking rather offended—and Orla? Orla stepped a good foot away from him, as if he just had said something unpleasant.

»I'm sorry?« James didn't know why he apologised, but he felt as he should—only because he doesn't want to be Michelle's punching bag for the rest of the day.

»Yer better be asshat! Don't dare say such mean things about [Name] again! He's a precious friend and we ain't gonna hesitate to punch anyone who talks shit about him. This includes you as well.« Erin ranted, Orla just nodding along with her candy.

James rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly—great, he thought.

»POP-TARTS! MY FAVOURITE GIRLS! HELLO!«

The girls turned away from James, Michelle squatting down like a sports player—ready to catch whomever just shouted this.

James looked over Orla's shoulder, seeing a boy—this must be this [Name] lad, Michelle was talking about, James concluded—sprinting over to them and right into Michelle's arms, who she hugged tightly and spins him around like a rag-doll.

Once Michelle had sat [Name] down—squishing his cheeks in a greeting, before releasing him completely from her clutches—he turned to James.

[Name] had been all excited this whole morning, to finally meet Michelle Cousin and now, when the time has come—[Name] couldn't help himself but to grin brighter than ever and pulling the other boy into a welcoming hug.

»Welcome to Derry and Our Lady'a College! It'a nice to finally meet ya James!«

And James thought, this [Name] lad was rather weird—and God forbid, the girls hear his offending thoughts.

~~~•~~~

It's summer now—temperatures have risen, weather mostly pleasant, suns brighter and longer out—the long holidays had started and James didn't believed he would survive a whole year in Derry—but he did and he's ready to, excited even, for his next upcoming years in Derry.

What James also didn't believed—and thinking back to this year schools beginning, it truly seemed unlikely to happen—that [Name] and him would befriend one another, but they did.

Although, if James being honest—but he never would dare to tell either the girls and especially not [Name]—he was a bit reluctant to even talk with [Name] at all, after all his way of speaking and how he is—his little habits and other personality traits aspects—were just a tiny bit off putting for James.

»I'mma ella looking forward to our small summer trip! Dad brought me'a this'a ella cool sand scooping and bucket set. James, Orla we're gonna build some Sandcastles, don'tcha we?« [Name] rambles in excitement, finishing of Michelles hairstyling—which were just two buns and some hairclips, Michelle could've done this with ease, but always letting [Name] doing it, because she knows how much her friend loves to do it—and plopping down next to James on the bed.

Normally they would've meet up at Erin's house, but Mary was doing some grand cleaning and shooed them away instantly once she saw them—so now, they're all at [Name]'s, scooped up in his room, which James had been in many times.

Orla agrees in a heartbeat to [Name]'s sandcastle idea, starting to ramble excitingly about decorations and when Michelle looks at James expectantly, he just shrugs his shoulders.

»It's alright to do, I suppose.« he says, letting [Name] do what he was about to do—putting some real girly, all coloured in pink and purple and blue with stars and other ornaments on it, hairclips into his curly hair.

»Ya don't wanna build with us Sandcastles? But Dad even brought a second scooper, in green, becausa I'mma told him to do, becausa yer like green and I'mma ella wanna build little tiny castle of sandy sand with ya and like—«

»Yes! Yes I love to build Sandcastles with you and Orla! I promise you [Nickname] I really do and I even will bring some tiny flags, okay? Yeah, alright.« James cuts his friend off, arm going around his shoulder and pulling [Name] in for a hug—the (hair.c) laid his head down onto James shoulder, hands reaching for James and playing with his fingers.

James had once asked, during dinner, his Aunt—she's a nurse, she probably knows better than Michelle or Erin, who would punch him blue and purple if he dared to utter his questions, especially such sensitive personal ones, about [Name]—if there might be something, medical wise, wrong with [Name]—because his friend had a weird way of speaking and overall just not really being "normal".

Michelle was close that night to scream more than just profanities at James, but her mother hold her off and explained calmly to James—that yes, mental wise, there is something wrong with [Name].

And when James asked for an elaboration—he wanted to know, otherwise how he should know how to help [Name] in whatever dry situation may occur, if he doesn't know what's wrong—his Aunt, thankfully, had given him the short story—and reprimanded Michelle not to get always so protective angry over [Name], when someones being curious about him.

It took a bit of time to figure out [Name]'s speech pattern and what he was trying to say at all, but James manages quite good—and could proudly disclaims himself as [Name]'s Translator.

»You do James? You really do?« Michelle crossed her arms, questionable raising her eyebrows at James—not believing him in the slightest, because her dear english cousin did actually once forget a promise to [Name] and boy of the lord, was her friend heartbroken about it.

»Yes, Michelle. I do. Here by I, James, declare my promise to [Name] and Orla, that I will bring tiny flags and build a great sandcastle.«

»My knightly knight James!« [Name] moved, albeit a bit harshly, away from James hold—giving a big smooch on the cheek—before jumping from his bed and taking Orla by hand and shouting down the stairs to his dad if the cake is ready for devouring.

James lips quirked into a smile, he really wouldn't mind another kiss from his prince.