A Quiet Kind of Thunder(12)

stefstef: i dont think my deep dark secrets are much fun!

rhysespieces: oh, i dont mean like deep dark secrets. just like normal stuff. hey i have an idea. let’s make a pact. TOTAL HONESTY. and EVERY QUESTION has to be answered.

rhysespieces: cool, huh?

rhysespieces: stef?

rhysespieces: remember i know you’re still there! that’s the thing about jackbytes stefstef: i know i know. i was asking my dog if she thinks it’s a good idea.

rhysespieces: . . . . . . really?

stefstef: my first question will be, why do you want to start such a potentially embarrassing/dangerous pact with a complete stranger?

rhysespieces: and my answer will be, precisely because we’re strangers. i’ve never got to know anyone like that before. worth a go, right?

stefstef: how do you know i won’t lie anyway?

rhysespieces: dunno. just do.

stefstef: ok. i accept your pact. with caution.

rhysespieces: total honesty?

stefstef: total honesty.

rhysespieces: ?

rhysespieces: do you really talk to your dog?

stefstef: wait, are we starting already?

rhysespieces: yes!

stefstef: ok. then yes.

rhysespieces: what’s her name? breed?

stefstef: rita. german shepherd.

rhysespieces: as in . . . skeeter? or . . . erm . . . ora?

stefstef: no!

stefstef: as in LOVELY rita.

rhysespieces: i dont know wtf that means stefstef: can you send links through this thing rhysespieces: yeah, tap the icon that looks like an arrow in a box and put the link in stefstef: one sec

stefstef: [YOUTUBE – LOVELY RITA – THE BEATLES 1967]

rhysespieces: erm. stef . . .

stefstef: doesnt the link work?

rhysespieces: sure it does. my ears don’t.

stefstef: FUCK. OH MY GOD.

rhysespieces: its ok, dont worry stefstef: i’m so sorry. i cant believe i did that.

rhysespieces: seriously its fine. happens all the time with new people. the ones who can hear anyway stefstef: i want to die.

rhysespieces: i get the reference now. lovely rita. that’s cool.

stefstef: i’m dead. this is my ghost, repenting past sins.

rhysespieces: hahahaha

stefstef: this is going to be the kind of thing i remember in the middle of a normal day in like five years time stefstef: hey, steffi, remember when you made a complete twat of yourself?

rhysespieces: tell me about the song stefstef: what do you mean?

rhysespieces: i can see the lyrics, but they don’t tell me much. what’s it like? slow? cheerful? why do you like it?

stefstef: oh! well

stefstef: it’s like, upbeat. the kind of song that makes you smile. my grandad used to sing it around the house rhysespieces: where would you listen to it? at a wedding? a funeral where you like really loved the person so it was like happysad smiling?

stefstef: it’s the kind of song you listen to in the car, on the way to somewhere you want to go, but you don’t have to hurry there rhysespieces: that’s a good description.

rhysespieces: i like this song too. good choice.

stefstef: i’m really sorry

rhysespieces: petition to add new clause to the pact.

stefstef: ?

rhysespieces: we can only apologise once at a time. no repeated apologies.

stefstef: i accept that clause rhysespieces: i have to go now. see you tomorrow?

stefstef: sure. bye!

[rhysespieces is offline]





I meet Tem at the running track after school the next day. She is already there, bent over, her fingers stretched towards her toes.

‘Hey,’ I say when I get close enough.

She unfolds, a grin already on her face when our eyes meet. ‘Hey!’ she says. She takes in my outfit – leggings, oversized hoodie, ankle boots – and mock-pouts. ‘Aw, I said come dressed for running.’

‘And I said, no way,’ I say patiently. ‘You can’t turn me into a runner. Give it up.’

‘Fine, fine.’ Tem tosses her hair, battled into a ponytail, and leans over to pick up her bag. ‘Timer duty?’

‘Naturally.’ I reach out a hand and she passes me one of her stopwatches. ‘Can we talk first? I want to hear about college.’

‘In a bit,’ Tem says. She seems distracted, stretching up and then down again on her toes. ‘I need to work it off first. You ready to go?’ She gestures at the stopwatch.

I nod, and she leans over to kiss my cheek. ‘Hi, Steffi!’ She drops her bag on the floor and bounces away from me – ‘Bye, Steffi!’ – and takes off.

I make myself comfortable on the grass beside the track and watch her run, her movements smooth and agile. Tem was made for running, I think. Like aeroplanes never look as comfortable on the ground as they do in the air, she comes to life when she runs. She’ll run for Team GB in the Olympics one day. I know it.

I let her run several laps before I get bored and flag her down. ‘Can we talk now?’

Tem holds up two fingers and carries on. Two minutes? Two laps? Peace? I sigh-groan and pull out my phone. I open jackbytes but Rhys is offline, so I turn it off again and play vegetable Tetris until Tem finally comes panting over.

‘Something wrong?’ I ask, watching her unscrew the cap from her bottle of water and take a long, slow swallow.