Children Of The Crucible

James

James' PoV

I continued on down the street, heading in the opposite direction from Tommy. It was about twenty past seven now and the wind was getting colder. Being the middle of winter, the sky had long ago turned from a pale blue to black. Shivering, I stopped briefly next to a wall to look through my bag for my gloves and scarf. I pulled the gloves on, wrapped the scarf around my neck and turned the corner, arriving at my girlfriend's house.

Gwen's family is really wealthy; her house is so big that it is bascially a mansion. A world away from the dingy, mould-encrusted flat I live in with my mum, it's sheer size never fails to make me gaze up at it in wonder.

Pushing open the gate, I walked up the front path, careful not to step on any of the flowers which overhang the path. As if able to sense my presence, Gwen opened the door for me before I had even reached the steps, all smiles as usual.

I carefully slid my trainers off before stepping into the house. It's honestly the tidiest house I've ever seen. It's intimidating. Every single thing has a place. I mean, the fact they have their own personal cleaner who comes round four times a week probably explains it. There's never a speck of dust on anything. In fact, I'd be surprised if anyone in this house knew what dust is.

I followed Gwen into the kitchen while she got something to drink. It was probably the brightest room in the whole house, with glaring white overhead lighting reflecting off the pristine shiny white tiles on the walls. Sometimes I needed to screw up my eyes just so I could see properly.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"Nah, I'm good thanks." I lied, knowing that if I admitted I was actually starving, she would try to get me to drink one of her weird, overly-healthy smoothies, like the one that was sitting on the counter at that moment, practically screaming at me to decline her offer. I will never understand why she drinks those things. What the hell is wrong with good old tea and coffee?

Up the stairs in her room, I took my usual place on the sofa. Yeah, you read that right- her sofa. She has a sofa in her room, not to mention a double bed, a built in wardrobe and a display cabinet with all her dancing trophies. I'd always loved her room. It's absolutely massive- you could fit my whole kitchen, dining room and living room into it- and everything in it is always arranged in such a deliberate, thought-out way that always makes me smile.

Gwen walked over to her bed and sat on the edge sipping her smoothie.

"How was basketball practice?"

"Eh, it was alright. Pretty boring, as usual. Ended in a tie. Hey, you gonna tell me how you got on at that dancing contest? I know you were up against some tough competition."

"It went really well actually. I came third so I guess there's no way I can complain."

I peered over at her trophy cabinet and spotted a new one at the far right. She had so many it was hard to keep track sometimes.

"Aw, that's amazing! Well done!"

"Thanks!" She smiled. She had been dancing since way before I met her. I think she started when she was about four or five, when her parents realised her passion for it.

"Ok, any suggestions on what to watch tonight?" I asked.

She thought for a moment, mentally rifling through all the options. She had most of the cinematic universe on her TV, plus millions of DVDs. It was yet another thing I loved about her house.

"I can't decide. What would you prefer; Stranger Things or American Horror Story?"

"Hmmm, tough choice, although I'm going to say AHS since we watched Stranger Things a couple of weeks ago."

"Ok, sounds good."

Turning on the TV, she plopped next to me on the sofa, settling in for a lazy night. By the time I said I had to go home, we had watched two and a half episodes and had made our way through a family size bag of popcorn.

I was pulling my jacket on when we heard her cat outside the door. Gwen let her in and picked her up, snuggling her face into her soft winter fur. She was a white Persian cat called Snowflake. Gwen had named her when she was a kitten. It made me sympathize with the cleaner; it must be a nightmare having to clean up cat hair, especially in the summer during the shedding season. Giving Snowflake a pat, and a scratch under the chin, I said bye to Gwen and left them to cuddle.

Out in the cold night, I did my best to avoid slipping on ice patches, but the dim streetlights didn't provide nearly enough light, and I hit the ground more than once. They changed all the old bulbs in the area a few weeks ago in favour of the more eco-friendly ones, which were meant to save money.  Once I reached the main road I made better progress, the headlights of the many cars making it much easier for me to see.

I rubbed my gloved hands together in an attempt to warm them up and slowly made my way home through the cold, dark night.