Hello again! Wow, it's been forever since I've written anything on here! I'm sorry if it seemed like I gave up on this story. Life is crazy, but I'll still definitely finish it. The ending is still a while away, though. Until then, enjoy chapter three!
Although the town had remained similar to how Billy had left it, there were still many blatantly obvious differences. The next morning, Billy slept in. There was no need to get up early for boxing or ballet. Tony and Jackie, however, woke up with the sun for a full, tiring day of mining. The town had fallen back into the same familiar pattern as before the strike.
Billy woke up to a cheerful voice. "Oi, Billy! Why are you still asleep, like?"
With a slight panic, Billy threw open his eyes, only to see the smiling face of Michael Caffrey.
"Morning, Michael." He rolled over to lay on his stomach again, thinking that perhaps he could catch a few extra minutes of sleep.
"Afternoon, practically," Michael corrected.
"Yeah," Billy blindly agreed. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"Just thought I'd come and visit. Didn't think you'd still be bloody sleeping."
"Oh." There was an awkward silence.
"I'm really happy you came back to visit." Michael said.
"Well, I didn't have much of a choice, but I'm happy, too." Realizing that Michael actually wanted conversation, Billy decided he could try to wake up. He pulled himself up in his bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, fighting desperately to keep his heavy eyelids open. Once again, he saw Michael's beautiful, happy face. You might as well get it over with now. Otherwise everything will be awkward for the rest of the time you're here. "Hey, er, is anybody else home?"
"Just your Grandma, why?" Michael's tone was still bright. Billy hoped it would never change.
"Could you close the door?"
"Sure, but why? Are you alright, Billy?" Michael softly closed the door.
"I just… I need to tell you something."
"Well, go ahead." Michael sat down on the other side of Billy's bed, ready to listen. Always ready and eager to hear what Billy had to say.
Billy took a deep breath. "I… remember how I kissed you goodbye before I went off to school?"
Michael's cheeks turned pink. "Aye, of course I remember."
"I've been thinking about it a lot, and the other one, too. After the Christmas party?"
"I remember that, too." He spoke with hushed intensity.
"I want to do it again, but, real kissing perhaps? Not now, but, maybe… I don't know. I don't just want to be friends, Michael."
"So you do go to a fancy poof school." Michael flashed a sarcastic grin.
"It's not just for poofs."
"Okay."
"You won't tell anyone, will you?"
"No, Billy." Michael gave his friend a kiss on the cheek. "Do you want to go dance?"
"Yeah." See, there was nothing to worry about. It's Michael. Billy tried to calm his nerves. If there was anyone who would understand, Michael was that person. The boys raced down the stairs, grabbed a piece of toast for Billy, said goodbye to Grandma, and began walking to the gym.
Michael saw that Billy was nervous, and maybe a little scared, but he couldn't help but be happy. Billy fancies me. He's been thinking about the kiss, too. "Let's go this way," he suggested, pointing towards small, beaten down dirt path.
"Why?"
"It's less crowded," Michael replied, clutching Billy's hand. Suddenly, the events from the day before made sense. He wasn't just holding my hand out of pity. He actually likes me. Michael's thoughts were interrupted when Billy spoke.
"How did you know about this path? I've always gone the main way."
"I walk this way all the time."
"With Debby?"
"Aye. Sometimes." Michael's voice began to fade.
"You're friends now, right? With Debby?"
Michael had become friends with Debby mostly out of necessity, but still agreed. "Sort of." He wished Billy would stop prying for information about his social life. He wanted a day just between the two of them, and thinking about his lack of friends didn't necessarily scream 'happy Best Friend Finally Visiting From Fancy Dance School In London Day'.
"So you do have friends, then…" Billy was oblivious to any hints drooped in Michael's voice.
"I don't know, Billy!" His voice was harsh, but his heart sank directly afterward. Immediately, he was filled with regret. He was expecting more sharpness in return, but Billy's tone was soft.
"I'm sorry I left." Billy let go of Michael's hand. Oh no. He didn't want to hold hands. I've been taking it all too fast. He probably doesn't even really like me. But then, Michael felt a soft hand fall upon his shoulder, and paused for a moment. Billy noticed immediately. "Is that too much? Sorry." He started to pull away, but Michael gently pushed it back.
"No, it's perfect," he replied, looking up at Billy. Then, to prove his point, he put his own arm around Billy's waist, so the two boys were locked together. "And, about you leaving," He locked eyes with the boy tangled next to him. "I know you had to go away to dance. I miss you, but… I get it now."
"Yeah, thanks." Billy gave a half-hearted smile, before Michael ended up tripping over his feet. Michael realized then that it was difficult to walk with another person so close.
"I've been working on learning some ballet," he said, as though it would make up for his clumsiness.
"I thought you said it was 'fucking weird'." Michael blushed when Billy mentioned his previous attitude towards dancing.
"But then… after the Christmas party…"
"Aye. That was fun."
The friends crossed the quiet road to go to a busier one, so they untangled themselves. It was awkward to have to let go so abruptly, but they was terrified of being caught. They silently agreed that it was worth the risk, though. Every second was precious.
Billy understood why they had to let go, but it didn't feel right to just walk next to the other boy. He craved physical contact, even though that sometimes felt awkward, too. Everything was new, and although it was exciting, it took some getting used to. The boys walked into the gym together, only to find it completely empty. It seemed that the children in Everington were on break too.
"So you said you've been practicing?" Billy asked Michael as they stood in the middle of the gym.
"Aye." Michael didn't move.
"Perhaps you could show me, then." Billy motioned his friend to the barre.
"Yeah," Michael replied. "Right."
Billy walked over to the barre with Michael, and saw his friend trembling as he got into first position. Part of him wanted to comfort the boy, whose stomach seemed to be bursting with butterflies, but another part of him said to stay quiet. He listened to the latter, because he thought his friend might need some silence to gather his thoughts. Then Michael was the one to break the quiet atmosphere.
"I'm not really all that good. I haven't taken classes or anything. Haven't even had a bloody teacher, like."
"You're fine, Michael. Just show me what you know."
"It's nothing. Look, I'm a fucking terrible dancer. I just like to pretend sometimes."
Billy sighed. "It doesn't matter if you're any good." The words brought back flashbacks of Mrs. Wilkinson saying similar things to him.
"Says the boy who got into The Royal Ballet School."
"Why do you like to dance?" The exasperation was clear in Billy's question.
"It sounds stupid."
"Go on."
Billy tried to stay polite, but he knew he was snapping at Michael. He loved Michael, but the boy was doing a fantastic job of wasting his time.
"I like to dance 'cause it reminds me of you. When you left I had nothing. No friends. No hobbies, really, except boxing. Not necessarily the best family. I'm not trying to complain, Billy. I know why you left, but I needed to keep a part of you with me. Dancing helped." Michael's eyes, which had started to linger on the floor, slowly turned their gaze to Billy.
Until that moment, Billy had never thought much about his friendship with Michael. Sure, he'd had loads of daydreams about Michael when he was away, and they'd always been best friends, but he had never thought about Michael's view on their relationship. He was confident that Michael fancied him, but that was as far as it got.
"I really am sorry I left."
Michael looked back down to the ground. "No, like I said before. I get it now. It's still the only reason I started trying to do ballet, though. I'm not any good."
"Just show me what you've practiced. I know you don't have a teacher, but I can help."
Billy saw Michael take a deep breath, and then watched as his friend began a well rehearsed routine. It wasn't nearly as good as what he was used to seeing at school, but he loved watching Michael try something new.
No. What the hell are you thinking? Billy has seen some of the best dancers in the country, and you, the bloody idiot that you are, want to dance for him. Michael was horrified by the thought of messing up in front of Billy. You're taking an art form that means everything to him and destroying it. He's going to hate you.
But he knew that his friend wanted to see him try, so he did. He tried to forget that Billy was there. He danced like he did when he was all alone. A form of art. A way of forgetting things. He finished with a series of lopsided chene turns, and landed in fourth position. He stayed there for a moment, just breathing.
Then he dared to look at his friend. He was ready for judgement, but not looking forward to it.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw Billy beaming. He was about to move, after all, he was finished, but Billy stopped him. "No, stay there." Michael slid back to fourth position.
As Billy walked over to his friend, his socks against the wooden floor were silent. Michael had danced without music, the dance itself being all that was needed. The only sound was the breathing of the two boys.
"Stand taller," Billy said, as he gently pushed Michael's shoulders back. "Imagine you're a puppet hanging from strings on your head."
Michael adjusted himself, and stood as tall as he could. He took Billy's advice with pride rather than shame, because he actually thought I did a good job!
"Aye, there you go." Billy moved around Michael, adjusting his friend's body as Mrs. Wilkinson had done for him in his early days of ballet. "You know, you're actually sort of graceful when you try."
"You think so?" Michael's face lit up in a brilliant smile.
"Of course, you idiot." Billy patted Michael on the back, almost in a brotherly way, breaking Michael away from his perfect fourth position.
Overwhelmed with liberation, Michael engulfed Billy into a hug. "I really did miss you. Life is a lot harder without your best mate by your side." He stayed there, not willing to let go, but also getting no resistance to the tight embrace. He breathed in the smell of his best friend, desperately wishing they could someday be something more.
Billy spoke to Michael, his voice nothing more than a whisper. "Right now, I don't want to go back." He gave Michael a quick squeeze and then carefully let go. They took a moment, just looking at each other, but Billy broke the silence. "Do you want to keep dancing?" Michael nodded, prompting a lesson similar to those led by Mrs. Wilkinson, although it had an absence of shouting.
Once again, Billy walked Michael home. And once again, they took the back way so they could hold hands. They talked about the dancing for a while, both agreeing that the time they had together was fun. Billy couldn't wait to tell his friends back at school that he was starting to teach ballet. After a few silent minutes, a change in topic didn't seem strange, so Michael spoke up.
"Billy," he started. He paused, obviously unsure of what to say next.
"Aye," Billy replied, instantly concerned for his friend. Their day had been perfect, and he knew something was about to ruin it.
"Are you alright with all that we've been doing? I mean, most friends don't hold hands and stuff, especially lads."
"Michael, I seem to recall that I held your hand first."
"So, are we… boyfriends? Can two boys be dating each other? Are we dating each other?"
Billy had wondered about that on the whole train ride home. He'd even thought about it at school. He knew he fancied Michael, and he wanted to tell him. He just didn't know what that would mean.
"I've seen a couple of older lads dating at school, so I think it's alright. But, we're a little young, like." Billy glanced at his friend, hoping that Michael agreed with his thoughts.
"Aye… so it is lads who are together, and everyone's fine with it?" Michael shot Billy a quizzical look.
Billy returned the look as he talked to his friend. He'd thought that Michael would know more about boys dating each other than he did, but Everington was obviously still lacking in diversity. "It's not common, but there are a few poofs at school. Some people don't like it, but most don't really care."
"I wish they didn't care here, either," Michael mumbled, his words sour.
Avoiding eye contact, Billy spoke to his friend, his words starting out soft, but slowly forming a crescendo, until he was speaking at his usual volume. "Michael, I don't care what they think. You shouldn't either. Someday, you'll move out. Someday we'll be boyfriends, and we'll live in London, and I'll be a professional dancer, and you'll be… whatever it is you want to be. And your family won't bother you, and you'll have a million friends. We just have to wait. It's going to get better."
I thought that was a sweet ending. :) Please review and let me know what you thought! It really does mean a lot to me. I'll definitely try to update sooner than I did last time. Thank you so much for reading!
-Ferocious Fangirl
