I couldn’t help smiling as I glanced at Robert, who was flicking bits of grass around with his foot in boredom, and then at Ben, who was paying close attention – his expression full of awe as he soaked up the meaning of the words.
Once Laura had come to the end of her speech and the bride and groom had finished repeating Laura’s words, she came to the finale of the service. ‘Becky and Greg, by the power in me, I now call you man and wife … Greg, you may now kiss the bride.’
We all watched in stunned silence as Greg placed his hands on Becky’s cheeks, pulled her into him and kissed her straight on the lips. It was, and still is, the friskiest first kiss I’ve ever experienced at a wedding. It lasted a couple of seconds and was followed by a big grin from the newly married couple as the gathered crowd erupted in whoops and cheers.
‘That was a bit much,’ huffed Robert, rolling his eyes.
While the crowd continued to go crazy, a warm and clammy hand found its way into mine. It was Ben’s. He gave my hand three little squeezes before pulling his hand away.
I looked up at his face as he flashed me a bashful smile.
Ben
Eleven years old …
I.
LOVE.
YOU.
That was what I’d wanted to say in those three little squeezes.
I knew I meant it.
I really did …
Being in that setting, with the emphasis of the occasion one of love and happiness, it was hard to escape the intense desire that took hold of me – making it impossible to ignore. I had an overwhelming urge to open my mouth and say the words out loud, but I couldn’t. Instead I found another way to express what I was undoubtedly sure I felt. The words pulsed through my body and out of my hands into hers, the one I loved inexplicably.
Of course, it would be easy to brush the whole thing off and insist it was a crush, a silly little case of puppy love, but it wasn’t. It was far more than that.
From the moment I saw Maddy she’d captured me. She had me completely gripped. I was fascinated with everything about her – the way she looked with her fire-like hair and flushed cheeks, the way her heart-shaped lips spoke with a softness and warmth, and the way she appeared so vulnerable as she exposed her caring heart. I adored her – it was that simple.
With Maddy in my life I felt whole. She added a magical sparkle that I’d never want to live without. And so I told her, with those three little squeezes. I had no agenda, no hidden plan or desire for anything to change between us – my only thought was to relieve myself of those feelings by communicating them in the only way I felt I could.
Three squeezes of love.
From me.
To her.
Being friends with two boys wasn’t always the easiest thing for Maddy to have to put up with. There were times when just being friends with us cost her more than a few tears and heartache. Especially since, as everyone knows, girls and boys can’t be just friends. But we liked to think of ourselves as an exception to that rule. And when the shit hit the fan, which inevitably it did, we decided – over a pinkie promise, if I remember rightly – to stick together like glue. It was a symbol that we would always be there for each other and that we’d never waver on that promise, no matter what life threw our way. Of course, as soon as puberty struck, our teen years were filled with wild misdemeanour. Well, hanging from trees counts, right? But, for Maddy and me, a school trip to Paris was where our story really started. Whether there had been something between us all along, or whether the city of love cast a spell and claimed our hearts, it’s hard to say. All I knew was that things would never be the same again …
Ben
Fifteen years old …
‘What do you think of Maddy?’ I asked Robert as we kicked a football around his garden. It was a Saturday afternoon in mid-June, but a cool, cloudy day. Maddy wasn’t about, she’d gone to visit her nan who still lived in Harrow, so it was just us two for a change. Football wasn’t really her thing, so we made the most of having a kick-around when we could do – without being grumbled at. I took the opportunity to talk to Robert about something that had been playing on my mind. Maddy.
‘What do you mean?’ he asked, confused by my vague question. He rolled the ball back on to his toe and flicked it upwards so that it landed on his knee, enabling him to bounce it from one to the other, on to his chest and then back over to me with considerable control. Robert was ridiculously talented with a ball – in fact, he was great at any sport, ball or no ball. He always won, no matter what the game – something that was helped by his competitive streak. He liked being the best, whereas I was too laid-back to care. Perhaps that’s why we worked so well together.