Authors Note:
This short story is about what happened after Billy left and went to the Royal Ballet school. It is set four years later, so Michael is 15 and Debbie is 14. I hope you enjoy it!
What Happened Next - Debbie And Michael
Debbie Wilkinson clambered onto the bus and plonked herself down on an empty seat. An old woman walked past, glancing at Debbie, and Debbie glared back. But when the woman had turn her back, Debbie pulled her coat further down over her tutu, embarrassed. There had once been days when she had been proud to let people see her in her ballet clothes. When she had gone home humming Mr. Braithwaite's merry songs. When she had rehearsed the new steps in her head, her feet tapping along sub-consciously. She didn't see the point of that anymore though. She didn't see the point of anything.
The bus doors opened with a hiss of steam and a boy stepped in. He was short, like Debbie, and his unruly hair curled around his face like a chocolate-brown halo. He looked around the bus, searching for an empty seat. The only one was next to Debbie. The boy noticed this, and his cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. He stood there, he eyes fixed on the empty seat, until the bus driver called out;
'C'mon, lad, we 'aven't got all day!'
The boy turned pinker, but did as he was told and sat down next to Debbie, on the far side of his seat so they wouldn't touch. Wanker.
Debbie turned to the window angrily and searched through her old ballet satchel until she found a cherry lollipop. Her Mam had packed one for every day since her first ballet class. Now, she gazed longingly at the crimson gleam of it, before opening the window and tossing the lollipop out. She hadn't eaten a sweet in 4 years, not since he left, and wasn't about to start now. Her body had shrunk from that of a plump little girl's, to a thin graceful woman's, the body of a real ballet dancer. And with it, had shrunk her happiness. She only wished he could see her now. He would be so impressed. Then again, maybe not.
The boy in seat next to Debbie glanced up at her, nervously, as if he was considering whether or not to leg it. Finally, Debbie could stand it no more.
'What is your bloody problem?!' she snapped at the boy. He jumped like Debbie had had slapped him.
'Nothing' he mumbled.
'Then why are you looking at me like you're a puppy that I just kicked in the 'ead?'
'No reason, it's just... You're familiar.'
'We don't know each other' said Debbie, turning back to the window.
'No, really, we do. At least, I'm sure I know you' the boy said frowning with concentration and frustration. Debbie glanced back at him. His eyes were the colour of the sea.
'I've heard that line before mate, a million times. You're wasting your time' Debbie insisted.
'I'm not chatting you up' the boy murmured, going pink again. 'I swear. I'm Michael.'
Debbie rolled her eyes and turned back to face him fully.
'Michael what?'
'Michael Caffrey'
Debbie frowned. The name was familiar.
'I'm Debbie. Debbie Wilkinson'
The boys face lit up with realization.
'Yeah! Mrs Wilkinson's daughter!'
'No shit, Sherlock.' sighed Debbie. She was beginning to feel dizzy. She hadn't eaten lunch or breakfast after all.
'I mean... the ballet teacher's daughter. Billy's teacher. Billy's old teacher anyway'
Debbie sat bolt upright. The dizziness was gone. Billy... Billy Elliot. Debbie hadn't spoken that name, hadn't even dared to think of that name in 4 long years.
'You know Billy, don't you? Knew him. Whatever' said Michael.
'I... I don't know who you're talking about. Billy? That's a boy's name! Mam never taught a boy to dance!' Debbie stammered, though her voice shook even as she said it.
'I miss him too...' sighed Michael, leaning back in his seat. When Debbie looked closer, she saw the tears in his eyes.
'He talked about you a lot, if that makes you feel better' Debbie said quietly. 'When he he was at ballet, I mean'
Michael said nothing, but she could tell that her words had pleased him. The tears left his beautiful eyes and a small, secret smile formed on his rosy lips. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, Debbie staring at Michael, Michael staring at the fan on the ceiling.
'You haven't, like, heard from 'im have you? Or seen 'im?' said Michael, not taking his gaze off the fan.
'Nah. You're more likely to than I am, you were his best mate after all. What was I to 'im? Nothing' Debbie muttered, her throat closing up.
'I don't think so.' Said Michael simply.
'What do you mean? What would you know anyway?' Debbie said, blinking away her tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.
'I felt the same way you did. Still do, really. Felt that I was nothing to Billy. But then you realize that no one knew what they were to Billy. I don't. You don't. His Dad definitely doesn't. His brother doesn't either, but he pretends not to care...' Michael sounded like he was going to say more, but instead his words drifted off into some unknown corner of his mind.
'We ought to see him. Go down to the school, I mean. Find out how he is.'
Michael stared at Debbie, a new look about him.
'I didn't know... I mean, I never knew you cared about...'
'I don't. I mean, I was just thinking, since YOU miss so much, we could...' Debbie didn't finish. She didn't have to. Both of them were clearly thinking the same thing.
'Let's meet here, first thing tomorrow morning' said Michael, standing up. There was a gleam in his eye like Debbie had never seen before.
'You're on.'
Michael shot her one last deliriously happy look, before getting off the bus.
'But wait a second, Michael, what about-' the doors slammed shut behind Michael. '...Money'
Debbie stared after the retreating figure of the boy. There was a feeling in her stomach that she hadn't felt for years, back when she cared about things like ballet recitals and when her homework was due in. It was butterflies. Nerves. Excitement. All the things Normal Debbie couldn't and wouldn't stand. But New Debbie was absolutely loving it.