New To Me (Phan)

Chapter 12

PJ's words kept echoing in my head, stuck in my brain like the tune of a catchy song. And try as hard as I might I couldn't get rid of it.

"Why are you staring at me?" Phil asked out of nowhere, snapping me out of my trance.

"I wasn't!" I defended. I was. He was in the middle of playing Sonic so I figured he wouldn't notice. Clearly I was wrong. I looked away embarrassed and focused on the screen instead.

"Yes, you were. I have terrific peripheral vision, you know." He said. "I'm like... a dragonfly." I snorted in amusement but didn't say anything.

"If you're worried about me, don't be. I'm fine." His gaze flickered over to me for a brief second and he smiled in assurance. It was convincing and anyone else would have bought it, but not me. I knew him too well and could spot his fake smiles from a mile away.

However, I was grateful that he brought that up. It wasn't the reason why I was staring but it was a whole lot less embarrassing than 'because you're nice to look at'.

"It's my job to worry about you." I said, glad for the excuse. "And I know you're not fine." Phil opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off. "Don't you dare lie to me, Phillip. I'll see right through it." I warned. He closed his mouth, shoulders sagging a little in defeat.

"Forget about Charlie. He's a twat." I continued on. Unlike Phil, I was incredibly thrilled with the break up. I could unload all of my negative opinions of Charlie and not feel guilty for being an unsupportive friend.

"You deserve someone better." Phil glanced over at me again for longer than a second this time, consequently dying in the game. He didn't seem to care however, or even notice. There was a moment when neither of us said anything, just held each other's gaze. I shifted self-consciously in my seat. "What?" I asked. Was I being too blunt? Insensitive? Perhaps I should've kept my thoughts to myself until the wound was a little less fresh.

He shook his head slightly causing his fringe to fall into his eyes. A small part of my brain urged me to fix it for him but the rest of my brain shot down that bizarre idea immediately. "Nothing." he said. He held the controller out to me saying "Your turn," but I pushed it back towards him.

"No. That was a pitiful attempt. Go again." Phil rolled his eyes and suppressed a small smile before restarting the level. This time around I made the conscious effort to keep my eyes on the screen rather than on Phil, only turning to look at him when making a comment about his gameplay. It wasn't as interesting when Phil was actually playing the game well. I couldn't mock him.

After a short period of rapidly increasing boredom I spoke up. "I'm hungry." I complained to Phil.

"You're always hungry." He said dismissively, not even sparing me a glance. He was in the zone.

"Let's make something." I said, watching him and waiting for his response.

Phil raised his eyebrows, but still kept his eyes on the screen. "You know how to cook?" He asked.

"I know how to read. And I know where I can find a cook book."

"So... no?" he said, amused.

"Shut up!" I chuckled, shoving him playfully and causing him to almost lose the level. He yelped as he frantically tried to regain control.

"Dan! Don't do that!" he said indignantly, but he was laughing. I shoved him again. "Stop!" I grabbed his arm and started shaking him back and forth. "Daaaaan!" he whined in protest, but I was having far too much fun messing with him. I covered his eyes with my hand and he tried to squirm away from me so he could still see the screen. But I wasn't going to let that happen.

"I hate you." he mumbled when his character inevitably died. He was lying sideways on the couch from his effort to evade me and I was leant over him. He pouted up at me and I grinned triumphantly back.

"Lies." I said.

I didn't move from where I was and I didn't break eye contact with Phil. We just stayed like that for a while before Phil cleared his throat. "So... cooking?" he said awkwardly.

"Right." I said, getting to my feet and allowing Phil to sit back up. My face felt hot and I knew it was flushed a deep scarlet. Why did that keep happening to me?

After browsing through my mum's collection of cookbooks I pulled out one by Delia Smith and opened to a page at random. Pancakes.

Phil raided my cupboard and fridge collecting ingredients, as casually as if it were his own kitchen, while I set up my video camera. I'd taken to posting quite regularly on my YouTube channel, and not just school work. I'd post silly things like gaming videos and skits and storytelling. And now baking videos I supposed. The quality wasn't that great but I wasn't making them to impress anybody.

I'd discovered that I liked making videos. I liked filming them and editing them. I liked reading the comments that people would leave on my channel and watching the small following I had gathered slowly increase in size.

I wished more than anything that I could turn making videos into a viable career option. It was the first time in my life that I'd found something that interested me, and to be able to do it as living would just be a dream come true.

Phil often featured in my videos but he didn't seem to mind. I'd taken up his advice to simply do what made me happy, and making videos was what made me happy. In all honesty I was the happiest I'd ever been in my life. My YouTube channel was growing, graduation was only a few months away, my haircut was actually decent for once, the new Muse album had just been released.

And I had a Phil Lester in my life.

Despite that last one also being a source of great confusion and inexplicable and undesirable feelings, it was without a doubt the biggest contributor to my happiness.