Dreamweavers: Awakening

mum gave him a look that seemed to suggest that a walk sounded like a really nice idea. He returned it with one that said something along the lines of: Like hell it does!

  ‘Maybe tomorrow then?’ suggested Daisy, sensing their subliminal interaction.

  ‘Tomorrow would be lovely,’ smiled Ryan’s mum, stepping off the porch and heading for the garage. Ryan felt so subordinated that he didn’t know what to say. He just nodded at Daisy and scurried off to the car.

  ‘Tomorrow then,’ he heard her call after him.

  Jack and Gibbo were already lacing up their boots by the time Ryan arrived at the rink. After queuing for a ticket, Ryan bagged himself a locker for his gear and went and joined them.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ asked Jack as he sat down. ‘Was detention a bit longer than expected?’

  ‘Nah, I was with your mum,’ said Ryan, slackening off the laces on his boots.

  Jack and Gibbo both laughed.

  ‘That only works with your mum,’ said Jack, punching him on the arm. ‘Anyone can see that she’s the only one who looks half decent.’

  ‘And the only one we’d actually have a chance with,’ added Gibbo.

  Ryan flashed him a dangerous glare.

  ‘What? I’m just saying…’

  ‘I’m gonna kill you in the speed session later,’ said Ryan, pulling his boots on. ‘And for your information my mum’s not like that. Actually she saw fit to give me my stuff back earlier.’

  ‘Really?’ asked Jack. ‘How’d that happen? I was surprised she even let you come here.’

  ‘Oh, you know, the same sort of charm that Sophie finds so appealing.’

  ‘It can’t be exactly the same because it actually worked,’ replied Jack, as they all got up and headed for the ice.

  ‘Are you two still obsessing over her?’ sneered Gibbo. ‘When are you going to wake up and see that she’s a lost cause? Now, keep an eye out would you? Steph said she’d be coming down.’

  Jack threw Ryan a knowing wink.

  ‘Hey Gib,’ he said. ‘Anyone ever told you that you might be barking up the wrong tree with that one too?’

  ‘Yeah, a well worn tree,’ added Ryan.

  Gibbo shoved him into the barrier and then sprinted out onto the ice. Jack and Ryan gave chase.

  As far as disco sessions went, it was a little less impressive than usual, to start with at least. Either everyone’s parents were clamping down on them with exam time looming, or most of the kids their age had blown their allowances over the bank holiday. Either way, it was slim pickings all round for the first hour. The three boys messed around together as the dance anthems blared and the lights spun and wheeled over the ice. Then, all of a sudden, Gibbo grabbed Ryan by the arm as he swept past and pointed across the rink.

  ‘Looks like the Bandit’s arrived,’ he grinned.

  Ryan looked over to the entrance kiosk and, sure enough, Dazza was just walking through the turnstile with his younger sister, Sharon, in tow. The two boys sped over to the far side and pulled up in unison, spraying a shower of ice high up the barrier.

  ‘All right Dazza, all right Shazza!’ shouted Gibbo, making them both jump.

  Dazza immediately looked like he wished he was elsewhere. It was the first time any of them, even Gibbo, had seen him since the night round Ryan’s house, and there were questions to be answered. They left the ice and headed over to meet him, closely followed by Jack. The venue was starting to fill up with families and couples in their mid-to-late teens, and the seating area was packed.

  ‘Before you start; has anyone got a locker I can share?’ Dazza asked. ‘All the others are taken.’

  ‘I think you already owe me enough favours,’ said Ryan, sounding more irate than he was actually feeling.

  Dazza looked pleadingly at Gibbo.

  ‘All right,’ said his friend eventually. ‘But when Steph shows up she’s taking your place.’

  ‘Which will be never, so you’re fine,’ grinned Jack, finding it all most amusing.

  Sharon had already donned her rental boots and disappeared into a flock of girls her own age, leaving the boys to grill Dazza as to his whereabouts.

  ‘Right Bandit; what happened to you after Wednesday?’ asked Ryan accusingly. ‘Don’t you know what a storm of crap you whipped up for us by taking that photo?’

  ‘Of course I do. Why’d you think I’ve been skipping school?’

  ‘We had that pretty much figured,’ said Jack. ‘So what happened?’

  ‘Well, when I saw the list of people Gib had sent that photo to I knew there would be trouble. My mum came into my room in the morning screaming that the school had called and woken her up. She just gave me the usual: swore a lot and told me how much grief she gets because of me, and that was it. She didn’t ground me or nothing, so instead of heading to school I just hung around the skate park all day.’

  ‘And Friday?’ asked Jack, regarding him with a small degree of distaste.

  ‘Same,’ shrugged Dazza.

  ‘Well, I hope with all that time there you got some new moves down,’ said Gibbo, seemingly less concerned about the actual skiving and more about whether he’d spent it well.

  ‘Yeah mate, I’ll show you later,’ smiled Dazza.

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ said Ryan indignantly. ‘I got two weeks of detention because of you.’

  ‘Well, you were the one who suggested putting it on the computer in the first place,’ replied Dazza.

  ‘And you were the star of the show,’ put in Jack.

  ‘Yeah, but he took the photo and Gibbo sent it round, yet they’ve got nothing.’

  ‘We all appreciate your selflessness,’ said Jack gravely, patting him on the back. ‘You’re a martyr and a hero, and we salute you.’

  All three of them threw mock salutes.

  ‘Bloody traitors,’ grumbled Ryan.

  From that point on things really livened up. With the four horsemen reunited they were back to their usual ways: zipping round the ice after one another and terrorising the unsteady beginners clinging to the outer barrier.

  ‘Can you imagine Bambi Richards doing this?’ Ryan called out to Jack across the ice, before doing his best new-born deer impression.

  Jack burst into such a fit of laughter that he collided with the barrier and went straight over the top of it. This earned him a warning from one of the rink stewards.

  After a while it was time for the speed session, where the more experienced skaters got to strut their stuff on freshly groomed ice. All four lads saw this as a prime opportunity to prove once and for all who was best, and they lapped the rink as fast as possible while the music grew louder and the lights spun quicker. The testosterone on display was almost enough to melt the ice, yet despite their best efforts none of them could keep up with Jack. He drifted round backwards faster than anyone else, and with half the effort. He just seemed to have an annoying knack for being good at that sort of thing.

  As he cruised past Ryan for what must have been the tenth time, he called out above the music, ‘Looks like Steph did make it.’

  Ryan’s eyes flicked along the sides of the rink until he spotted her.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ he called back. ‘I guess Gibbo wasn’t lying for once.’

  ‘You seen who’s with her?’ asked Jack, carving across in front of Ryan with irritating ease.

  ‘Nope.’

  Ryan waited until he had circulated again and took a good look. His heart sank.

  ‘Oh crap, it’s Double H,’ he shouted. ‘Should we tell him?’

  Jack just raised his open arms to say he didn’t have a clue.

  ‘Someone needs to,’ said Ryan, and pulled into one of the longest hockey stops he’d ever done, which lasted nearly half the length of the rink.

  For the briefest moment he thought about how sweet it must have looked and hoped a few girls had been watching. A second later Gibbo zipped past him giving him two thumbs up.

  ‘Gib…’ shouted Ryan, but his friend was already well past him.
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  Ryan did his best to keep up, but unfortunately Gibbo chose that moment to realise what it was that Ryan was trying to tell him. The results were not pretty.

  Gibbo immediately caught an edge and, in an attempt to save himself, grabbed hold of a much older guy who happened to be cruising past. The two of them became locked in a fateful tryst as they struggled to regain control of their entangled feet. It took only a second for the barrier to come into play; the two of them colliding with it so heavily that the impact could be heard above the sound of the music.

  Almost immediately a scuffle broke out, and Ryan and the others piled in. They did their best to haul the guy off Gibbo, who seemed to have taken the man-sized portion of the impact and was struggling to work out which way was up. Then came the guy’s mates, all of whom were bigger than them, and in the end it took almost every steward in the venue to break it up.

  That effectively ended the speed session, and both groups were banished to either side of the rink to calm down. In any case, Gibbo was in need of a breather. However, his recovery was not aided by the fact that Stephanie and Harry were now on the ice and lapping together, holding hands.

  ‘I don’t understand where I went wrong,’ he said.

  ‘You snagged your outside edge,’ said Jack, handing him a can of Coke from the vending machine.

  ‘No, I meant her,’ moaned Gibbo, holding the can up against the fast-growing lump on the back of his head.

  ‘Mate, you didn’t do anything,’ said Dazza. ‘Everyone knows what she’s like.’

  ‘That’s what we’ve been trying to tell him,’ said Ryan. ‘He just won’t bloody listen.’

  ‘Seriously Gib, do you really