Book Review – Where Rainbows End by Cecelia Ahern

Where Rainbows End review - Pinterest Graphic

Where Rainbows End, or Love, Rosie, as it is more popularly known is one of the sweetest, most heart-warming books that I have ever read. Upon finishing it last night, well into the early hours of the morning with the heavy weight of sleepiness settling over me, I found myself turning the final page with a warm feeling in my chest and a smile on my face. If the aim of this story is to encompass the feeling of falling in love, then I think it succeeded.

Back in January, I watched the film Love, Rosie, on one of those rare quiet nights in at university when I felt like I needed a good rom-com in my life. I loved it immediately. The characters, the story, the soundtrack, the imagery, and the general feeling of the film was me all over. And when I found out that it was based on a book, I knew that I had to read it. I bought it the next day.

Where Rainbows End is, however, very different from the film. Although the characters, concept and heart of the story remain the same, there are several big differences. Personally, I found that this did not detract from either of them, but instead gave me more to look forward to as I was reading the book without knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

The book is about best friends, Rosie and Alex, who grow-up together but circumstances cause them to suddenly live on different sides of the world. The book follows them through their lives as they remain in contact, struggling to both fight off and come to terms with their feelings for each other. But life is never as simple as that and sometimes reaching a happily ever after takes a fair bit of time and effort.

The most unique thing about this book is that it is written in the form of lots of different documents – letters, emails, chat-room messages, newspaper clippings, and even a couple of obituaries. By writing in this unconventional prose, Cecelia Ahern has perfectly encapsulated a sense of life that many books fail to do. As we read from the points of view of different characters, their believability is so strong that I almost feel like I really know them.

I also feel like this form lends itself perfectly to the romance genre. There is a romanticism to letters that is often forgotten nowadays, and if this book had failed at everything else, the one thing that it has definitely done for me is give me a new goal of writing more letters. As we rifle through Rosie’s assortment of lifelong documents, we explore the journey of the characters’ lives in a new and revealing way.

So many themes are explored in this book, but some of the ones that stood out to me were love in every form – family, friendship and romantic – following your dreams, and the circle of life. All of the characters strive to achieve their personal goals in life, and I feel that this adds a whole other dimension to the story, making it more than just your typical romance novel.

One of my favourite concepts of the book is the use of mirroring between the generations. Rosie is best friends with Alex, and her daughter, Katie, is best friends with Toby. Alex dreams of becoming a doctor and Toby dreams of becoming a dentist. And both pairs struggle to realise their true feelings for each other. I thought that this was a very clever way of encouraging Rosie to act on her feelings, as she did not want her daughter to make the same mistakes that she did.

I also found that the timeline of the story was important. Unlike in the film where Rosie and Alex reach their mid-thirties, in the book they go all the way to fifty without recognising their feelings for each other. There is something so poignant about the thought of going half a lifetime without finding your soulmate. This may be just because I am used to reading stories where the characters are much younger at the point of their happily ever after. However, I believe that the concept of finding love at fifty is important. It reflects reality in that sometimes it does take a long time, but the end isn’t what is important; it’s the getting there that matters. All of the characters lead full lives and their years do not go to waste.

But their romance is pretty important too.

I’m so pleased that I found this book. It is bursting with all of the happiness and heartbreak of life, stitched together in a unique way that tells a beautiful, poignant story of true love. I highly recommend it to everyone who loves a good rom-com or chick flick, or who just needs a little bit of love in their lives. Where Rainbows End is practically the definition of the word ‘love’.

And if you don’t feel like reading, then at least watch the film. For Sam Claflin, if nothing else.

Star Rating: 4/5

Author: Cecelia Ahern
Publisher: Harper Collins
Year of First Publication: 2004

Two Days at the Derby Book Festival

This week was the grand opening of Derby’s debut Book Festival. This was the first year that the city has put on the festival and they definitely pulled out all the stops. The week was packed full of exciting events, from writing workshops to performance poetry. Special guests included Rufus Hound and Michael Morpurgo, author of War Horse.

I attended two of these events. The first one was ‘A Conversation With David Nicholls’. David Nicholls is the author of the bestselling novel, ‘One Day’, and also the screenwriter of many Hollywood films including ‘Great Expectations’ and the recent ‘Far From The Madding Crowd’. David Nicholls is a very funny, down-to-earth man. He told us all about how he came up with Douglas, the main character of his new novel, Us, and how one particular incident in the book was inspired by a real life event involving an angry biker gang in Amsterdam.

The other event was on publishing – both the life of a publisher and how to get published. As someone who one day dreams of being published, the information I learned from this event was invaluable. The speakers – Julia Murday, a publicist at Penguin; Karen Ball, a publisher of children’s books; and Diane Banks, a literary agent – were fantastic. They explained what they look for in an author, and also gave advice on how to self-market your books. For example, we were told that as long as you’re careful with what you put out there, being active on social media is a huge help to your career, as it enables you to prove that your have contacts and potential book-buyers. They also stated that it’s incredibly important to keep an eye on the ever-moving trends, so if the time for bestselling sci-fi novels has passed, hold onto that manuscript and wait for the trend to come back round. Publishers are much more likely to choose your book if it fits in with the bestsellers at the time.

I highly recommend visiting a book fair to those of you who enjoy writing and reading. There are so many opportunities out there to meet and network with other people who one day might just be the contact you need to take a leap into your career, as well as all of the events that are held to teach you everything you need to know about the industry. There are over 350 book festivals in the UK, and the number keeps growing as they become increasingly popular. This was my first time attending one, but I know it will not be my last. I can’t wait for next year’s!derby book festival1

Ending Old Journeys and Starting New Ones

Well, this year has definitely been a journey. My 2014 resolution was to publish something, and thanks to the encouragement of my friends and family, I did just that. Granted, it wasn’t the book that I’ve envisioned in my future, but we’ve got to save something for this year, right? Nevertheless, seeing my theatre reviews in print in an actual magazine that people buy, gave me a feeling of pride that I’ll never forget. It was a huge moment for me. Thank you so much to everyone who helped me achieve this, especially Artsbeat’s editor, Amanda Penman, for giving me the opportunity to get my foot in the door.

I got through my first year of college this year. You may or may not know that I’ve found college to be a rather difficult challenge and have come close to giving up more than once. But I got through it, passed all my subjects, and so far my final year has been much better.

What else have I achieved this year? Well, this blog for one thing. Over the years, I’ve started and restarted so many blogs that I’ve lost count, but this is the first one that I’ve held close to my heart. And I think that shows because you have been so supportive of it. Thank you, everyone, for reading all of my mundane ramblings, putting up with my rants, and being interested in what I have to say. I wouldn’t be here writing this if it wasn’t for every single one of you.

I am so proud of all of my friends and family for what they have achieved this year. My dad’s football reviews are being published in the club’s magazine, my mum’s beautiful paintings are selling better than ever, my older sister has started a new (extremely busy) journey to midwifery, my brother has been promoted, and my little sister performed stunningly in her Class 8 Play before going off to Iceland with her friends at the beginning of summer. I can’t begin to describe how proud I am to have a family as kind and talented as them.

And what do I have to look forward to in 2015? In January, I’m attending a film course with BFI that could lead to all sorts of exciting things. I’ll be taking my exams and finishing college in summer, which will lead to me taking a new path into the unknown world of Adulthood, wherever that may be. Whether I start university or take a year out to focus on writing, I know that next year will be full of opportunities. And then, to celebrate my parents’ 25th anniversary, we’re going to Disneyland! Remember, this post from way back in May? Well, it’s finally happening! I guess publishing reviews was good enough. (Not that I’m giving up on the book front.)

I don’t truly believe in ‘resolutions’, as the word seems to discourage people to stick to them. But I do believe in making plans and goals for the coming year. So here are mine.

1. Write a book.
I’m not giving up on this. It will happen this year, I swear. I’ve made my first steps towards it, and nothing’s going to stop me now.

2. Write more, in general.
I’m going to write everything. Articles, blog posts, book reviews, theatre reviews, poetry, scripts, music, everything. If there’s something that I haven’t tried writing before, I’ll do it this year.

3. Learn guitar.
I’ve always wanted to be Ed Sheeran, but my chances of that were greatly diminished when I stopped my guitar lessons at five years old. Now, with a renewed sense of music, I will finally begin to achieve my dream of becoming a musical sensation (ha!).

4. Face my future.
I’m terrified of adulthood. Now, at eighteen years old, I’m not going to be scared anymore. Honest.

5. Eat healthier and exercise more.
This one is not a promise.

What are your New Year’s resolutions/plans? Let me know in the comments.

Merry Slightly Late Christmas, and Happy New Year!

Lots of love, from Beth.


Listening to: Wrecking Ball by Jasmine Thompson
Watching: Thor: The Dark World
Drinking: Schleur
Eating: Christmas chocolate

Worlds on Blank Pages

(Disclaimer: This is just a bit of nonsense I wrote during a free period today.)image

Faced with a blank page you have two options. The first, and by far the easiest (if also the dullest), is to sit and stare at it. You can think all you want, but if the voice in your head isn’t transferring to words on paper, what good is it going to do? You can watch the white and wait for something to happen, but if your fingers don’t start forming words, then nothing is ever going to happen. You will simply watch and wait forever.

The thing is, things will only start happening when you make the first move. Ripples in water will only occur when something touches it. Reactions only happen when there is an action already made.

So, unless you want to spend the rest of your existence waiting for something to happen that never will, the second option is what you should go for. You can start writing. It doesn’t matter what. It doesn’t matter if every single word that appears on the paper is complete nonsense.

Words should bubble from your imagination and seep into your mind, where they proceed to leak into your brain and drip through the veins in your arm right to your fingertips. From there, they should flow through the pen and into the ink, transforming into beautiful patterns and pictures that become: your writing.

And before you know it, the page is not blank. It is not vicious white, taunting you with its snowy complexion. Instead, it is positively brimming with fragments of your mind. The page is bursting with your creativity, and you can sit back, breathe it in, and think this is my world.

***

This is Earth. You and I are from the same Earth, but we are not of the same world. We share the same planet, but we live it different ways. We might not have the same culture or customs. We might not eat the same foods or tell the same stories, yet maybe we live in the same village. Maybe we have lived in the same village our entire lives and mixed with the same people as each other, but we’re still from different worlds. We still see our own worlds differently.

There are no two worlds exactly the same. Every person – every single human life, even those who are remembered by no one, has their own world. So does every animal and tree and flower. Some people have more than one world within them, so they need to find some way of getting it out of there system. Thus, the arts are born.

Every single book is its own world. Even if the setting is the exact same place that you grew up, right down to the flowery wallpaper, the pages still know things that you do not. You will see it from a new perspective – through a character’s eyes or a bird’s eye view.

And really, when it comes down to it, that’s what worlds are all about: perspectives. If everyone saw everything from exactly the same perspective, we would all be the same person. So, it’s not that the people make the worlds; it’s that the worlds make us.

That is why stories are so important. Every story we hear, read or watch, sinks into our membranes and becomes part of us. We breathe stories. Stories seep through our beings and, sometimes, they take over. Every aspect of life is a story. And every aspect of a story is life.

BOOK REVIEW: The Maze Runner by James Dashner

I think it’s something extraordinary that, while I’d usually have about five books on the go and switch between them, as soon as I started reading The Maze Runner, all other books were forgotten. Honestly, this book is something special. From the moment I opened it, I fell in love. The moment I closed the last page, I felt like I had been told the meaning of humanity.

The book opens with the protagonist, Thomas, waking in an enclosed space with absolutely no memory of his identity, pulling us in with the first and possibly most important mystery – Who is Thomas? Soon after, we are introduced to the other characters: tough Alby, sweetheart Newt, scary Gally, lil’ Chuck, and later, superhero Minho. And let’s not forget the plot’s trigger, our gorgeous, independent lady whose name I shall not mention.

It is impossible not to become attached to these characters, even the most despicable of them. They all have their own set of unique traits and flaws, and Dashner builds the different relationships between them beautifully.

Quickly, we learn that nothing is quite right in the Maze, a horrible place with seemingly no escape, where the boys have been living for years. And not only are they trapped; they’re trapped with the Grievers! The Grievers are awful, half-machine half-animal creatures that stalk the maze, coming out mainly at night. You don’t want to get stung by them (although they also offer worse ways to go), or you’ll have the Changing to look forward to. Not much is known about the Changing because the only ones who have been through it refuse to talk about what they saw, but their pain is obvious. No one is the same after the Changing.

The entire book is a thrill to read, with twists and turns right up until the last page. Nothing is as it seems, and no one can be trusted.

Who would I recommend this to?

  • Sci-fi fans
  • Hunger Games fans
  • Anyone who is interested in seeing the film (read the book first!)

Star Rating: StarStarStarStarStar

(The Maze Runner will be in cinemas from 10th October, 2014)

Lost Girl

I am obsessed with Peter Pan, and it’s not just because I have a crush on Robbie Kay who played him on Once Upon A Time. It is the entire concept of Neverland. The conflicts between childhood and adulthood, dreams and reality, innocence and corruption, and freedom and responsibility resonate with me more than they ever did before.

As I am reaching my eighteenth birthday, it might seem silly to some people that I’m so attracted to a fairytale. Truthfully, the story of Peter and Wendy never interested me much when I was younger. It’s only now that I’m approaching uni and have to think about earning money that I really understand what it’s all about.

In the early 1900s when JM Barrie wrote the play ‘Peter Pan or The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up’, childhood was cut short very early. The ages of the characters are never specifically stated in either the play or novel, but Peter is described as still having all of his baby teeth, and Wendy is just his height. Nowadays, childhood seems to stretch on for as long as possible. In early adolescence, children seem desperate to grow up, unlike Wendy.

Now, at seventeen going on eighteen, I find myself torn between wanting to live my own life in my own house, earning my own money. But, at the same time, the thought of all that independence terrifies me and all I want to do is crawl back into my childhood and hide there forever. Maybe that’s why I love the idea of Neverland so much.

Can you imagine how wonderful it would be? Someone turns up on your windowsill and whisks you away on an adventure full of more excitement and happiness than you have experienced in your entire life. Unfortunately, there are laws against that kind of thing now.

But at the end of the day, Wendy makes the ultimate decision and says goodbye to Peter, returning home with her brothers to face the inevitable challenge of growing-up, a feat that Peter was never able to accomplish. And it is so sad. The novel depicts the sadness of it much more than the Disney film.

Peter promises to return every year to take Wendy back to Neverland so that he would never forget her. But he does. Because time doesn’t work the same in Neverland, and although he holds to his promise for a couple of years, he soon leaves her for many years. In that time, Wendy gets married and has a daughter. Then, one night, Peter returns to take Wendy (or whom he believes to be Wendy) back to Neverland for her annual visit. And so occurs one of the most beautiful, heartbreaking scenes that I have ever read. Wendy wakes from her chair in the shadows in the corner of the room and sees Peter standing over her daughter’s bed. Peter cheerfully explains that he’s returned after a year to take her away, and Wendy says that it has been longer than that. It has been years. And slowly, Wendy emerges from the shadows and Peter recoils. She’s all grown-up. In the end, Peter takes her daughter to Neverland, and then her granddaughter, and so on. But he always forgets them.

If that hasn’t tugged on your heartstrings enough, then maybe this piece of information will. JM Barrie grew up with seven siblings. When he was six, his fourteen-year-old brother, David, died. His mother was so devastated that Barrie tried to fill his brother’s place by acting like him and wearing his clothes. In Margaret Oglivy (1896), Barrie described a moment when his mother saw him and asked, “Is that you?”, to which he replied in a small voice, “No, it’s no’ him, it’s just me”. He said that his mother took comfort in the fact that David would remain a boy forever and never have to face the horrors of growing-up and difficulties of adulthood.

This adds a whole new side to Peter Pan, who clearly has similarities to Barrie’s brother. The idea that Peter leads other little ‘lost boys’ to the place where they never have to grow up suggests that Peter makes it easier for dying children to move on. It is a sad but oddly comforting idea.

Peter Pan clearly has many layers and themes that are not as obvious as we thought. It is about more than just the struggle of growing-up; it is about the more complex ideas of life, death and love.

I strongly recommend that you read JM Barrie’s Peter and Wendy. Barrie writes in an imaginative style that is completely unique to him. His use of often surreal imagery creates an atmosphere that you can just lose yourself in. You won’t be disappointed, I promise.

Peter-Pan-and-Wendy-Darling-peter-pan-14526250-576-416


On a different note, my dad now has a blog in which he posts reviews of films, TV shows and books. You can visit it here.

Rediscovering Old Stories

I started this story about three years ago, and have just rediscovered it. Beware, this hasn’t been edited since I found it. Fortunately, I wasn’t a completely illiterate fool so it’s still readable and hopefully interesting.


 

Promise

Chapter One.

Winter. I hate winter. It is just cold, dark and wet. It is when the sun hides behind the clouds, and the stars have trouble shining. It is when the moon seems spookier and gloomier. It is when it is too cold to rain, and instead the sky decides to fall on you. And then people decide to throw bits of fluffy, but deadly freezing cloud at you so hard (possibly with a stone or compacted into ice) that it gives you a black eye and concussion. I hate winter.

It was Monday 29th November. I woke up in my room which is pretty much the whole third floor. It was so cold in there that I could see my breath, and my teeth were chattering, even though I was snuggled up in three blankets, a duvet and two sheets. Very reluctantly, I dragged myself out of bed and forced myself into the luxuriously steamy shower, where I warmed myself up for half an hour.

After that, I dressed for the weather: three pairs of thick tights, two pairs of socks, skinny jeans, a vest, a top and a hooded jacket. After applying a bit of make-up and French plaiting my long, strawberry blonde hair, I tugged on my Ugg boots and leather jacket and headed downstairs.

“Morning, Lydia,” my overly cheerful mum greeted me as I plodded tiredly through the living room. She was curled up in her dressing gown on the armchair, sipping a coffee and reading the newspaper. I envied her so much.

“Morning, mum,” I replied, my voice an obvious contrast from hers. I sounded like there was a thunder storm pouring down on my head. I felt like it too.

“Did you know it’s snowed overnight? I think it still is,” she said, oblivious to my mood.

“I guessed from the frost that lay over me when I woke up,” I replied. She ignored me, and suddenly became engrossed in the article headlined ‘DEATH BY ICE!’ Oh, this was going to be a fun day. Note the sarcasm.

I ate half a banana, and gulped down a glass of juice as my breakfast. I was on a diet. All the girls in my new school were skinny. I wasn’t. But I wasn’t fat. I was curvy. I just felt like I could lose a few pounds, and then I wouldn’t stand out so obviously.

My dad came down the stairs, all ready for work.

“Are you sure your school’s still open?” he asked me. I looked to mum.

“Yes it is. I’ve already rang them and asked,” she said. Dad and I sighed simultaneously. Poor dad had to drive in it without slipping all over the place and creating a domino affect of accidents. I had to put up with huge snowball wars and frost bite. Yes, my school was tiny, but there were quite a few good throwers. And they hurt. A lot.

Dad dropped me off in the school car park, and then drove away as slow as a snail. Almost as soon as I turned the corner to the playground, I got hit with a snowball. Grumbling, I trudged through the thick blanket and made my way to the porch outside the main entrance, where I could shelter almost safely from flying white candy floss. I sank to the dry ground, and wrapped my arms around my knees.

I heard several fast approaching crunching footsteps, and slowly looked up. Stood around me in a semi circle were Ash Jackson, Charlie Opal, Rio Densall, Luke Stuart, and Jayden Skye. In there hands they all held two balls of snow, and on their faces they each held a smirk and a playful glint in their eye. That could only mean one thing.

“Oh crap,” I muttered, before swiftly covering my head with my hands. Instantly, ten snowballs flew in my direction, each bursting into a soft powder as it exploded on me. They were in fits of laughter.

“You freaks, this is my best coat!” I yelled at them, although I knew they were only messing around.

“Why did you wear it today then, you idiot?” Luke laughed. I just frowned.

“Stuff you,” I grumbled. I heard gravelling footsteps getting closer and edged away into the wall. Someone sat next to me. Carefully, I glanced slightly through my hair towards them. It was Jayden. My heart skipped a beat.

“You really hate snow don’t you,” he said. It was more of an observation than a question.

“Is it that obvious?” I rolled my eyes, although he couldn’t see because I was still hiding my face. He chuckled. The sound of his laugh made my legs turn to jelly. Thank god I was sitting down.

“Well, you look cold.” I felt his arm wrap around my shoulders and pull me closer into him. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Jayden Skye – the hottest guy in the whole school – was cuddling me. But then the realisation hit me. It hit me in the form of an icy cold snowball being crushed on the top of my head. I jumped up, shrieking and pulling bits of the white stuff out of my hair. Jay was clutching his sides, choking on his laughter.

That did it. Within a heartbeat, I had two handfuls of snow. I threw them right in Jay’s face, without giving him a chance to be warned. He looked up, surprised and then vengeful. Uh oh. Revenge is bad on anyone, but when Jay got it, it was sure to be painful and much, much worse. I backed away, my hands up in surrender. He took a handful of snow, moulding it into a ball. He walked towards me at my pace, the revenge glinting in his eyes.

“Um, Jay… I wasn’t aiming at you,” I lied. “It slipped out of my hands…” I backed into something behind me, but resisted the urge to turn around. Never turn your back on the enemy. However, this prevented me from backing away any further. And Jay was gaining. A smirk was playing on his beautiful red lips. The snow made his hollow cheeks and pale skin gleam. His shaggy brown hair hung over his right eye. He looked gorgeous. And right now, deadly. This is it, I thought, he’s going to bury me alive in this stuff.

And then the bell went. It only distracted him for a second, but that second that he was off guard was all I needed. I took off as fast as my legs would carry me for the main entrance, and got in to safety. Snow was banned indoors. He couldn’t get me. He would have to wait until break time.

Just as I got through the doors, a snowball exploded on the door frame. Woah, that was close. I turned around and laughed at Jay’s playful-angry face. He followed me inside and we walked up the stairs to our classroom together.

“I’ll get you at break,” he smiled.

“Not if you can’t find me,” I smiled back. He laughed as we entered the classroom and hung our coats up. The other guys, and Ruby and Lily, walked in behind us. They were all covered in snow from head to toe, laughing and messing around. How could they stand to be that smothered in frozen rain?

We had double history first. Our topic was world war two. All through Mrs Kingston’s lecture about evacuation, I kept finding my gaze fixed on the back of Jay’s head. He sat in front of me. His brown hair hung just above his shoulders, curly from the melted snow. His shoulder blades stood out giving the impression of the smooth muscles beneath his black tee-shirt. He was hunched over, resting his chin on his hands, with his elbows on the table.

The lesson dragged on slowly. But when it was over, I found myself wishing it would go on for even longer. Break meant outside. Outside meant snow. Snow meant snowballs. And snowballs meant Jay. Which meant revenge. Sure enough, as soon as the lesson finished, he turned to me with a grin.

“See you out there,” he said before running outside, barely remembering his coat on the way. I sighed, taking my time over putting on my leather jacket and gloves.

I walked slowly towards the main entrance. Luckily, Ruby and Lily were in there, waiting for me.

“So, what was that going on with Jay?” Ruby asked, a cheeky twinkle in her eye.

“Nothing, he just plans to get revenge on me for throwing snow in his face,” I replied.

“Mhm,” she said, knowing that it was actually flirting. But she can’t say anything about flirting. She never stops flirting with Ash, her long term boyfriend. They hardly ever leave each other’s arms. It is rare to find them apart for longer than five minutes.

“I can’t blame you, Lydia, he is so fit,” Lily said dreamily. I looked at her surprised. She was not the type of person to go all dreamy about a boy. She shot an innocent ‘what?’ look at us. We hastily shut our mouths and turned away. She had a good arm on her when it came to throwing stuff. Particularly snow.

“Would you like to explain why you’re hiding in here?” the snobby science teacher, Mrs Garland, asked snootily from the doorway.

“It’s cold…” Ruby moaned.

“It’s wet…” I moaned.

“It’s dangerous…” Lily moaned. Mrs Garland scowled.

“Out,” she pointed a long claw – I mean nail – at the door. Defeated, we went towards the door. And were greeted by a flurry of snowballs. They all missed me luckily, so without a second to spare, I legged it away, knowing that Jay and his mates were following me with flying ice.

I didn’t know where my legs were taking me. I was just trying to get away. However, when I found myself skidding to a halt around the corner, I knew I should have paid closer attention to where I was going. I had hit a dead end. And Jay, Luke and Rio were hot on my trail. Uh oh. I turned to face whatever was coming. Sure enough, around the corner came the three, with Jay in the middle giving me a cheeky smile. They had at least ten snowballs between them. There were three of them and ten snowballs, against one of me with no snowballs. This could not end well. I held up my hands. They didn’t stop walking to me. I stood still.

“Oh god, Jay… what did I ever do to deserve this?” I asked with exaggerated drama.

“Nothing,” he shrugged. We stared each other down for about a minute.

Come on then-

“Now!” Jay yelled and before I could do anything to protect myself ten snowballs exploded in a puff of powder all over me. They didn’t stop there. Somehow they had got closer to me while I was busy choking on the snow, and blinking it out of my eyes. They started grabbing handfuls of it and throwing it at me. They kept doing this until I was drenched in it, like an abominable snowman. They stopped for a minute to laugh.

“Jay,” I said, my voice full of fake innocence, “Do you want a hug?” Before he could do anything, I jumped on him and wrapped my arms around his body. I was surprised he didn’t struggle. Instead, he put his arms around my waist and held me to him. I never wanted the moment to end. But it did. Because Luke had snuck up behind Jay, and pushed him. I found myself sprawled on my back in the snow with Jay on top of me. We stared into each other’s eyes (oh! his amazing bright green eyes), bewildered at what the hell had just happened.

Then people’s laughter snapped us out of it. I pushed Jay, not even realising that my hands had been on his chest. He got up without having to be told twice, and held a hand out for me. I could feel my cheeks were a flaming red, not just from the cold. Blushing even more, I took his hand. He expected to be helping me up, so he was caught off guard. With every inch of strength I could muster up, I pulled him over into the snow while I leapt gracefully to my feet. With a light twirl, and curtsey, I flashed a playful grin at the dazed Jay who was sat on the ground rubbing his bruised tail bone. I looked up to find a lot more people than I had expected, laughing. They were all covered in snow, laughing and clapping at my trick. What was not so great was that most of them had probably seen what had happened a minute ago.

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The bell rang. Everyone grudgingly turned to go, leaving just Jay and I alone. He was stood up now, looking as if he had something on his mind.

“Are you okay, Jay?” I asked him. He shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts, and turned to me with a genuine friendly smile.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yep, I’m fine.” I said, just as the cold hit me. I shivered and my teeth started chattering. Jay looked at me, worry across his beautiful features. He slipped off his big black coat and before I could protest, helped me into it.

“Thank you,” I smiled, a blush creeping onto my cheeks only just after it had gone. He began walking off, not showing any reaction to the coldness. I followed a few steps behind him, eager to get inside to the warmth.


If you like it, let me know and I might upload more chapters.