*Blue Cheeze* Pamela - My Friend and Me

�Give it back!� she yelled, her hands flying to her hips. �Right now, you half-assed weasel!�

He sniggered, and dangled the necklace from his fingers.

�You want this?� he taunted. �You�ll have to catch me!�

Duncan snapped it up back into his hand, a gleam in his eye.

�So?�

Natalie scowled angrily.

�It�s mine,� she growled.

�Finders keepers. You�ll have to get it from me!� Duncan shoved the necklace into his pocket and took off. Natalie hesitated, then galloped after him.

�Come back here, you stinking coward!� she screamed. Duncan glanced behind him, tripped over and landed on the muddy field. Natalie leapt at him and grabbed for her necklace.

�Give it back!� she yelled.

Duncan collapsed on to the grass.

�Fine,� he panted. He felt in his pocked to take out the necklace.

�Oops�it�s gone,� he teased.

�WHAT?� Natalie hollered.

�It�s gone!�

Natalie snarled at Duncan, then hauled him up to his feet.

�Stop playing, slimeball!� She shoved him in the chest.

�Stop poking me!�

Natalie stopped in her tracks.

�Poking, huh? You call this poking?� She pushed him again, and he tottered back slightly. �Just because you developed those things you call �muscles� over summer doesn�t mean you�re stronger than me!�

�They ARE muscles!� defended Duncan, rubbing his forearms.

�Oh yeah? I�m still taller than you!�

�No you�re not!�

�Why don�t you fight back like always?� Natalie sneered.

�I�m afraid I might break your girlie nose,� he mocked.

�Give me a break, you�ve broken it before in football.� Her slightly crooked nose was proof of that. She grabbed for his pockets, but as Duncan refused to let her touch them, she landed her fist on his mouth.

�You asked for it,� he warned, his half-cocked fist flying to her cheek. The tussle over his pocket turned into a full-blown brawl on the muddy grass.

After a while, Duncan finally landed on his back, with Natalie lying on top of him, holding his hands together with one of hers. Duncan kicked his legs, but she wrapped hers around his, keeping them together.

She groped in his pockets for her necklace and came up with it.

�Thank you kindly. Now get off me!� Duncan wriggled beneath her and Natalie rolled off him.

�You okay, Dunc?� panted Natalie.

�Yeah. You?�

�Cool. You still fight good.�

�I always fight good.�

Natalie was still half-sprawled across Duncan�s legs, her necklace in her hand. She tentatively pressed her bruised cheek.

�Ow.�

Duncan dragged himself up to a sitting position, and fingered his split lip.

�You�re gonna have a beauty on your right cheek, Nat.�

�Yeah, and you�re not gonna be able to suck for a month. Come on, we�d better get home it�s late,� she breathed.

Duncan had been best friends for years, ever since they had fought over the last cookie in daycare when they were three. They fought constantly, always bickering over the smallest things, even though they were already twelve. Natalie was the only girl Duncan ever dared to hit, - she was practically his sister, and she didn�t fight like a girl.

They walked home together.

�Who�s the necklace for?� Duncan asked companionably.

�It�s for me.� Natalie slipped it around her neck. �What do I look like?� She pretended to model it.

Duncan looked at her from the corner of his eye.

�You look disgusting with the mud and a silver chain. Who gave it to you?�

�Brandon.�

�Brandon?� He choked. �The jock? Why?�

�It�s my birthday soon.�

�Yeah, not for another two weeks!�

�He sent it across to me during algebra with a note.� She fumbled in her backpack and handed it to Duncan.

� �Would you like to go out with me Friday night?� �he read, feeling a slight pang of jealousy. �What did you say?�

�I haven�t replied it yet.� Natalie crushed the note and tossed it back into her bag. �How come he�s asking me out? I�m not pretty or charming or � �

�Well��

�You dare say I�m anything like those flirty girls who can�t stop giggling when they see a guy you�ll go home castrated,� said Natalie pleasantly, with a hint of threat underlying her voice.

�I wasn�t. Here�s your house. See you tomorrow.� Duncan punched her gently on the chin. Natalie grinned and knocked his head none too lightly.

�Bye. Take care.� She slammed her gate shut and Duncan walked home alone.

�Mum?� asked Duncan as he dried the dishes after dinner.

�Yes?�

�How old were you when you had your first date?�

His mother was a little puzzled.

�Why do you want to know?� She answered his question with another question. Duncan shrugged, and continued wiping the dishes.

�Just wondering.�

�Well, I was fifteen. Why, do you want to go out with someone?�

�Of course not. I was just curious.� Duncan�s fringe covered his eyes, so his mother couldn�t see them.

�Oh, I see��

There was a short pause.

�When do you think is the right time for someone to start dating?� he asked again.

�Well, it depends on the person, I suppose.�

�When do you think I�ll be ready?�

�I don�t know, I guess now. Why?�

�Honestly, I was just asking,� Duncan insisted. His mother had her misty-eyed �Oh my baby is growing up� look on.

�Really?� she handed him the cup she had just rinsed.

�YES, mum.�

�Okay, honey, I believe you. But remember, I�m always here for you.�

�Thanks, mum.� He wiped the last cup and stuck it in the cupboard. �I�m going up to my room.� He could hear his mother sniffle as she put her rubber gloves away.

Duncan fingered his chin as he headed up the stairs to his bedroom. He was past thirteen and he still wasn�t growing a beard � there wasn�t even a hint of stubble.

He stared at the mirror in his bedroom. Same old boring face, he thought. Pretty tall for his age, but he was filling out his bones okay now, thanks to his studious workout over summer. Brown hair � a little long, his parents thought, and a fringe that tumbled over his forehead and past his eyebrows. His eyes were usually a smiling green, but they could be serious or sulky when he felt it. A mouth that he thought was a little too big, but apparently the girls at school thought was sexy.

His reflection stared mournfully back at him. He blew his fringe up in exasperation, jumped onto his bed and started doing his homework.

* * * * *

Several houses down the street, Natalie was doing exactly what her best friend had been doing. Her reflection in the mirror did nothing to boost her self-esteem. She was rather tall for a girl her age, and her lean body fit in perfectly with her sharp cheekbones and pointed chin.

Her light brown hair had streaks that the sun had bleached blonde, and it was down to the middle of her back. Her mother had insisted that she keep it long, and after several years she had grown too attached to her hair to cut it off. Her limpid gold eyes were no help in trying to portray her image as a tomboy � they were almond-shaped, slanting up slightly, and a light whiskey colour, giving her the look of a lioness ready to pounce.

She grabbed up her toothbrush, squeezed a liberal amount of toothpaste on it and began scrubbing her teeth. After she had rinsed and gargled, she examined her teeth. There was a crooked one, that she refused to fix. She hated braces, and the tooth, if truth must be told, gave character to her face. Duncan had a chipped one, she remembered, a reminder of one of their more violent fights.

She flung open her closet, looking for her pyjamas.

�Mummy!� she hollered. �Where are my pyjamas?�

�They�re here!� her mother called back. �Come and take them yourself!�

Natalie groaned and dragged herself down.

�Here, Nat.� Her mother handed them to her.

�Thanks. G�night.� Natalie yawned. Her mother brushed a kiss over her cheek.

�Sleep tight.�

Natalie stumbled up the stairs, half-asleep. She pulled on her shorts and shirt, and began fumbling with her bag.

�Got � to do � homework�, she murmured. Her tired fingers couldn�t seem to obey her brain. Another yawn sounded through the room.

�Tomorrow,� she promised herself. �English can wait. Saturday is good for doing homework.�

She crawled between her blue bed sheet and thick duvet, cuddled it around herself and fell fast asleep.

Natalie heard the sound of someone throwing stones at her window and got up from her desk. She opened the window and looked down. Duncan was standing there, getting ready to throw another pebble.

�Yeah, I�m here,� she called. He climbed up the water pipe and into her room.

�Have you replied to Brandon yet?� he asked the second he climbed in.

�Damn, I forgot,� Natalie chewed on her thumbnail, pondering.

�How do I reply this kind of thing?�

�I suppose you write a note back,� said Duncan wisely. Natalie dug through her drawer and came up with a blank piece of paper.

�I don�t know what to say!�

�Aren�t you going to say yes?� Duncan said it cautiously, hoping she would disagree. Natalie narrowed her eyes at him.

�You. Are. Mad.� She pronounced every word carefully. Duncan let out a breath he didn�t even realize he had been holding. He didn�t know why he had been feeling a little uncomfortable around Natalie recently.

�Then what�s the matter?�

�I don�t know how to say no,� she sighed, twirling her pen around her fingers.

�That�s easy. N-O,� Duncan spelled slowly.

�Aw, maybe I should just tell him in person. That would make things so much easier.� Natalie scrunched up the paper she had been doodling on and aimed it at her trashcan. It bounced off the rim and landed near Duncan.

�Shit. I missed it.�

Duncan reached out, picked it up and threw it in. It landed neatly in the can and he grinned at Natalie. She rolled her eyes.

He kicked back on her bed.

�It�s Saturday. What do you want to do?� he asked.

�I�ve actually got to go to the library in the afternoon to do some research for my bio paper, but that�s later. Now I have to go to town to tell the drycleaners that Daddy wants his suit by Tuesday. Want to come?�

�I�ve got nothing to do,� he answered, stretching out on her bed. Natalie was the only person he knew who called her parents �Mummy� and �Daddy�.

�Okay, the drycleaners close at 12 for lunch.� She looked up at her clock. �It�s 11, we can make it.� She headed towards the door.

�You�re going out like that?� he asked incredulously. Natalie glanced down. She was wearing a grey shirt that used to be white and a pair of school running shorts.

�Oh. I�ve been weeding the garden.� She rummaged in her closet and dragged out a pair of clean jeans on over her shorts. She stuck her head in again to look for a clean shirt, pulled one out, looked at it in disgust, then tossed it over her shoulder.

�Why can�t you wear that?� he asked curiously, picking it up. �It�s clean and ironed.�

�Look at it. You think I�m going to parade around in front of everyone wearing that?�

Duncan shook it out.

�What�s so bad about it? It�s not pink!� he sniggered.

Natalie wrinkled her nose at him.

�Surely you know me well enough by now. It�s a girly shirt. It�s all strappy and icky. I think some unknown Aunt gave it to me for Christmas.�

�Oh come on, wear it,� Duncan said, holding it out.

Natalie pulled her head out of the cupboard for the second time.

�You want me to be the laughingstock of the neighbourhood?� she demanded. �It�s a� spaghetti strap top.� She said it as though it was a curse.

�It�s a normal shirt, it�s what the other girls wear,� he said.

She stomped towards him, flung off her dirty shirt and held out her hand.

�Give it to me.� She was dressed in her singlet, and her eyes were shooting poisoned darts straight at him. He passed it to her and she pulled it over her head.

�Oops. It�s too small,� she said matter-of-factly and pulled it off again. �My singled shows through.�

�Surely you have a singlet with skinnier straps?� he began poking through her drawer, and extracted one out of the mess. �See?�

Natalie glowered at him, her shirt half over her head.

�What is the matter with you?�

Duncan raised one eyebrow.

�Come on, I haven�t got all day��

�Why do you want me to wear it?�

�Chicken? I bet you�re just scared,� Duncan teased.

Natalie�s pride bounced up.

�I am not. I�ll wear it.� She slid the shirt fully off her head, and Duncan caught a glimpse of a strip of a white tummy. She grabbed the singlet from his hand and stalked into the bathroom.

A minute and several swear words later, she stalked out. There was a pale cross on her back that marked the lines of her swimsuit. The white shirt looked good against her bronzed skin and the straps showed off her nicely toned arms.

�Let�s go.� She went down the stairs. Duncan paused for a while, then followed her.