- Chapter One -
Darcy Jane likes a lot of things.
She likes nail polish, preferably bright colours, and long braids that cause her hair to frizz the next morning.
She likes dancing to Michael Jackson, though she isn’t very good, and skateboarding on the boardwalk, no matter the weather.
She likes claw clips when they scrape her scalp, and the smell of rain on dry earth.
She likes banana pancakes but doesn’t like bananas by themselves, and she likes it when people compliment her eyes.
She likes reading romance novels secretly when no-ones watching and imagining scenarios in her head before she sleeps.
Darcy Jane likes oversized hoodies and rolling up in thick, heavy blankets in the winter.
But most of all, Darcy Jane likes Jamie Beckett.
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“DJ!”
I ignore the chorus of voices outside my window and focus my gaze on the pretty pale-yellow nail polish I was currently applying to my nails.
“DJ Paoletti!”
My eyes flicker to the window for a split second, four dirty boys yelling, mud and paint all over them. All four with tousled hair and shit-eating grins.
I turn back to my nails, softly blowing on the paint to prevent smudging, shaking my hands calmly.
“Darcy Jane Paoletti! I know you can hear us!” Mack screeches, chucking a handful of mud at Spencer, who sprays him with a water gun.
It’s actually more of a machine gun and I have no idea where he got it from.
“Darcy please come play with us?” Jamie begs, peaking over my window like a little kid.
“My god you boys are such children.” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
All four go silent and look at me with raised eyebrows.
I shift sheepishly as they look at the rainbow array of nail polish bottles scattered across the surface of my carpet. I may or may not have just spent an hour and a half picking out my nail colour for this week.
“What?”
“Do you not worry about your little...addiction sometimes?” Kit questions, clumps of mud falling from his hair as he shakes his head like a dog.
“I wouldn’t say addiction...” I tilt my head to find the word. “I would say...healthy habit.”
That’s the word.
“Healthy habit?” Mack snorts, pretending to swipe tears away, smearing blue paint all over his face.
“Yes. Healthy habit.” I examine my nails and nod in satisfaction.
Finally dry.
“Done!” I jump up and do a little spin on my tiptoes. “Just let me change into some more war-appropriate clothes.”
I look down at my white pants and beige sweater with pursed lips, definitely not war- appropriate.
I disappear into my wardrobe and hear the muffled talking of the boys outside, discussing their war plans most likely. We take these games very seriously at the Paoletti household.
I go to my old clothes pile and grab a pair of rugby shorts and a tank top I stole from one of the boys several years back. It falls past my knees but it’s comfy and old so who cares.
I slip on some slides and chuck my hair into a random messy thingo.
I slide out of my wardrobe and pose for the boys, hands flourished, and hips tilted.
They clap slowly and sarcastically so I flip them off and grab my sunnies from the floor.
“You need to learn how to appreciate my fashion taste.” I huff, clambering out the window and falling onto the wet, muddy grass. “It’s authentic.”
“Yeah right.” Spencer directs his machine gun at me and fires, immediately soaking me with dirty water.
I gasp, the icy water soaking through my clothes quickly.
“You bastard.” I snarl, grabbing a water balloon from the ground and smashing it over his blond head.
“Ooooeeeee!” Mack laughs, throwing his hands in the air.
“Water fight!” Kit yells, tackling me into the mud and smearing pink paint down my forehead.
I screech, scrambling to get away from his tickling grasp. I can feel cold mud making its way through my hair, the brown dirt poisoning my blonde hair.
Jamie launches himself at Kit and they go scrabbling into the muddy puddle besides me. I push myself to my feet, grabbing the nearest water gun and aiming it at Mack, letting the strong spray of water hit him directly in the chest.
“In your face Mack!” I cackle, grabbing several water balloons and throwing them at Spencer. “I’m the queen of water fights.”
“Every queen needs a king.” Jamie shoves Kit to the ground and stands up with a flourishing bow. “And we all know who that should be.”
“Me?”
“Shut up Mack.”
Jamie swoops in behind me and scoops me into his arms before sprinting around the side of the house, towards the hazardous treehouse in the corner of the garden. I whoop in glee and manoeuvre myself in his arms so I can still shoot the idiots chasing us.
Mack, Spencer, and Kit yell their war cry and sprint after us, slipping on the wet grass. They look quite the part of three idiot boys, mud spraying everywhere and paint dripping off their faces.
“Faster Jamie.” I urge him on like a horse, slapping his shoulder and kicking my legs.
He laughs and skids to a stop in front of the treehouse, dropping me gently to my feet and turning around to face the oncoming army. I breathe through my laughter and clamber up the rotten ladder, keeping an eye on the battle below me.
Jamie snarls at the boys, raising his machine gun into the air like a gorilla before letting water bullets fly, causing Mack to shriek and dive for cover in a bush. Spencer narrows his eyes and turns his face against the onslaught of water, slowing advancing towards Jamie.
Kit...well I think Kit gave up a little while back. He stands there on the sidelines with an amused expression, wiping mud off his cheeks absentmindedly.
Spencer keeps on moving towards Jamie who looks at me in alarm. The spray of water slowly decreases until it is nothing more than a trickle.
“Uh...DJ?” Jamie gulps and Spencer cackles in glee.
“Hold up...” I look around the treehouse for a weapon and grin at the bucket of water in the corner.
I pick it up, struggling under the heavy weight but eventually I manage to push it to the edge of the ledge, directly over Spencer’s head.
I tilt it slightly and the water crashes down on Spencer, drenching him within seconds, it pours off the edge of the treehouse like a waterfall and he stands underneath defeatedly.
Mack sniggers from the safety of the bush and Jamie collapses in a heap of laughter. Even Kit releases a soft chuckle.
The torrent slows and Spencer spits out the water that got in his mouth. His blonde hair drips into his eyes and he shakes his head violently like all boys do.
“Fine! Fine! I admit it, you are the queen of water fights.” He sighs, running his hand over his face.
“And Jamie?” I cough, using the old rope to swing off the treehouse ledge.
“And Jamie is the king of water fights.” He mutters, head hanging low but grin evident.
I walk over to Jamie, Mack and Kit and stand with my arms crossed.
“That’s what I thought.”
“But you’re still not as good...”
Before I could smack Spencer, Dad appears at the gate with the shopping.
“What on earth is going on here?” He drops the bags and stares at the garden in disbelief.
I look at my surroundings as well and twists my lips sheepishly. There are skid marks, the remnants of water balloons and several water guns lying everywhere. Not to mention to tubes of fluorescent paint that have painted the grass a dirty rainbow.
“Water fight?” I offer and the boys nod sheepishly.
Dad sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “I leave you guys along for half an hour and you manage to make my garden look like something out of Wipeout.”
“Sorry?” I mutter and the boys follow suit.
“No you’re not.” He runs his hand through his greying hair, looking at me seriously. “Did you win though?”
“Of course I won!” I laugh, smirking smugly at Spencer. “Flogged ’em all!”
Spencer grumbles something indistinctive under his breath and I kick him in the shin. He whines and I poke my tongue out at him. Jamie laughs, slinging his heavy arm around my shoulders.
“That’s my girl!” He whoops and Mack sends a solemn golf clap in my direction. “But this garden better be clean...well cleaner...by the time your aunt comes around for dinner tonight DJ.”
Dammit. Just when I thought I’d gotten off with a warning. I sigh heavily, scanning the disaster in the garden.
“And you boys better help her as well or I’ll ban you from my house.” He points a stern finger in each of the boy’s face, eyes stern.
“Sir yes sir!” All four of the guy’ssalute and stomp in unbelievable unison.
I look at them with wide eyes and they nod at me seriously, eyebrows furrowed as they salute my father.
“My god you sweats.” I huff and barge my shoulder into Jamie, who manages to withstand my incredible strength and stay steady.
I wince and shake my shoulder off, grumbling curses under my breath as I begin the rough trek of picking up the few hundred water balloon corpses littering the muddy grass.
Dad rolls his eyes to the heavens and picks up his load of shopping, somehow managing to carry every single bag in both arms.
The boys break their salute and begin helping me with the clean-up of the garden. It’s silent for a few minutes before Mack decides he must be the one to provide us with entertainment.
“Do you guys want me to sing you a song?”
“N-“
“Welllll....when I wake up...well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.” He sidles up beside me, singing ’500 miles’ and I shove him away with a grin. “When I go out...yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.”
“When I get drunk...well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you.” Jamie joins in and Kit groans, shoving his head into a bush. “And when I haver, hey I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who’s havering next to you.”
I take a deep breath and prepare to join in for the chorus.
“Annnnd I would walk 500 miles! And I would walk 500 more! Just to be the man who walks a thousand miles, to fall down at your door!” Spencer, Jamie, Mack, and I shout in Kit’s direction, and he whimpers.
“Agghhhhh!” He screams as we all begin sprinting in his direction, ignoring the pile of balloon carcasses we were supposed to be collecting. “Dear Heavenly fath-“
Jamie tackles him to the ground, and we all dogpile on top of him, yelling the song in his ears.
After several minutes...or maybe a few hours...we finally manage to make the garden a little more...presentable and after spraying the paint off ourselves with the cold garden hose, we head inside to get ready for dinner.
