Tommy and Stella stayed all afternoon and into the evening. We ate the rest of the banana bread. We laughed and talked. And we were just normal. For that, I'm so grateful.

I feel a little guilty for being so happy about something that's not her. For having a good day without her. For feeling grateful I could eat banana bread weight-free. But I guess maybe it wasn't weight-free after all, because I'm just feeling guilty now instead. I guess guilt's never gone, just waiting to come back in with a bite. Just like sadness.

But I refuse to let it get me down and spoil my day. After such an awful couple of weeks, today has been like a breath of fresh air after living in a fog of misery and depression. It stings my lungs when I'm not used to it, but it's not a bad feeling.

As I go to switch off the kitchen light to leave the room, I catch a sight of her cup on the table. I forgot about it, with all of the excitement of the day. And today was definitely exciting. I intertwine my fingers, eyeing the bright polish with a slight glint in my eye. I'm glad I painted them. They, in some weird way, offer some encouragement and comfort.

My fingers are resting lightly on the light switch as I stare at the mug, just able to make out the faint line of lipstick. It fades a little more every day. Sometimes I almost wish she wore a colour more like my nails, rather than nude, so that it would last for a longer. But then I remember that that wouldn't have been very Bailey.

I step back towards the table slowly, sinking into a chair and reaching out a tentative hand for the mug. I draw it to me, placing it in front of me, and eyeing it. It took me a long long time to convince my mother not to put it through the dishwasher. The amount of times I came downstairs to find her about to put it in there. I could never make her understand why I wanted to keep it. But it finally went in recently, and I'm still so glad it did, just for moments like these. I don't think she approves any more than she did before, but she grudgingly accepts the fact that I want it left alone.

I run my finger along the rim, oh-so lightly. I don't want to rub off her mark.

The ceramic is cool against my skin, the lipstick slightly soft. I remember how I took it into the hospital to her, when she went in. She always said that coffee just didn't taste the same out of the mugs they had there. Or soft drinks.

So I took it to her. She was so over the moon, you'd think I'd given her the winning lottery ticket. That was always Bailey though. Her smile always lit up my world. I like to think that mine did the same for her. But everything seemed to make her so happy it was hard to distinguish which things she liked best.

I do sometimes think that these memories are just my brain twisting events to be more beautiful than they are. In some ways, that's worse, because it's more torture to think I'm missing out on more. And on the other side of that, it's better if I'm making it seem better. At least I'm in a dream and can wake up at any point.

Maybe I'll even wake up one of these days, and Bailey will still be here.

Bailey drank everything out of this cup, from coffee and hot chocolate, to orange squash or apple juice, to the rare occasions we had some alcohol. I've never understood why it was so special to her, but I've always treated it accordingly, because I love her, and what's important to her is just the same to me. Especially now.

My finger goes around and around the rim, until I stop, lifting my finger to look at it. A faint mark of her lipstick is on there. I was pressing too hard. I can't make a habit of that. Sighing, I push the mug back to the back of the table, standing and pushing my chair in. It's getting late.

The stairs are dark, and I cling to the banister on the way up. But I refuse to turn on the lights. Too long I allowed myself to give in to demons. I couldn't walk around the house alone, much less in the dark. I'm not going to do that anymore. This is the start of something new.

By the time I reach the landing at the top, I'm breathing heavily, and there's a light layer of sweat on my palms. Come on, Alex. This is normal everyday stuff. Brushing my hands down my trousers, I open the door to my bedroom, stepping through and shutting it behind me as quickly as I can. This is the one room in the house I feel safe.

I spin around and around on the tops of my toes, until my knees touch the end of the bed, and I let myself fall onto the covers, eyes half-closed. Being normal is so much more tiring than I remember.

I let my eyes close, mind wandering. Is it weird to be proud of yourself? Because I'd say this warm feeling inside of me is something verging on that.

I find Bailey's family filling my mind. The last time I saw them was the funeral... but I don't want to think about that right now. I make myself move on to when I first met them. Bailey was still in year twelve at that point, and I'd picked her up in the car.

I remember drawing up beside her school, to see her standing with a group of her friends, talking and laughing. I got out of the car, leaving the door open and heading round to the far side so I could lean on the roof, arms crossed against the metal surface and chin resting on them.

The sun was shining brightly, and her hair and skin was golden under it's bright shine. Sun-kissed. I was way too hot, wearing skinny jeans and a thick jacket. But it was her favourite, and I wanted to please her. It's just a plain leather jacket, with buttons on the collar flaps, but she loved it.

I'm sure she only ever asked me to wear it to steal it. Every time I wore it, she'd rush over, hug me, hands running over the jacket. We'd greet, and I'd give her a kiss. Then she'd ask for the jacket. It was standard procedure.

For which reason, I always kept a spare jacket in the car. I think it's still in there.

Not that I've been out in the car for a long time. It's MOT has probably run out.

I remember how she looked up from the ground, hand on her bag strap, and her face lit up at the sight of me. She started walking towards me, leaving her friends, eyes on me, and I was just frozen, watching her. It was always like that when we hadn't seen each other for a while. It had been nearly two weeks, as me and the boys went on a short vacation.

I came back the night before, and I'd called her. She'd started crying down the phone- I'd barely held myself together. She insisted on seeing me the next day, which led to me standing in the burning-hot sun, leant against my car and watching her walk towards me.

"Hello, beautiful girl. To what do I owe the honour?"

She smiled at this, rounding the car bonnet until she's stood beside me. Even though her friends were watching everything, I took her in my arms, filling my senses with her scent, my arms with her body, and my mind with her. She put her tiny arms around me, fingers lightly stroking the leather of my jacket.

I'd pressed a kiss to her forehead, and stroked her hair, trying to shield her from the rest of the world as her shoulders started shaking. I thought for a moment she was crying again, but then she pulled away, and I saw laughter lining her features.

"Can I have your jacket please, Alex?" I snorted, pulling it off and placing it around her shoulders, waiting for her to grasp the heavy material before I let go. It completely swamped her, the shoulders too broad, the length too long for her body- almost down to her knees- and it just looked altogether ridiculous. But she didn't seem to care, pulling it closer.

"Do you only love me for my jackets, Bailey?"

"No, I only love you for your clothes. And your hair."

I grinned at this, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling the door open wider for her to get in. As I shut the door behind her, I lifted one hand to my eyes so I could see, raising my other in a wave to the gobsmacked girls standing on the school's door step.

Their eyes were wide and one of them stifled a squeak. I just smiled back, knowing the sight of me picking Bailey up was always a surprise to them. Having a boy a few years older pick you up from school to take you for a drive is not something that happens often. Plus I'm quite tall, so I get stared at most places I go anyway.

I never met her friends properly, though. The only time we were within five metres of each other was at Bailey's funeral, and it wasn't exactly the place for them to get to know me. Unless they wanted to know the broken mess that I was beginning to become.

I got into the car, pulled on the velvet jacket from the backseat, and pulled away. We'd stopped at Bailey's house so she could change from her school uniform. Her parents, of course, knew where she was going and that she'd be with me.

I would still salute them today for their great trust in a boy they'd never even met. Especially as I'm older than her. But they always allowed her to come to my house, and for me to drop her off places, or pick her up when they couldn't make it, or even when they could. And all of that was happening before they'd even seen me.

So on this occasion, they'd obviously decided to meet the mystery boy who stole their daughter's heart. I had no time to prepare, or dress up nicely. I was just sat in the car, waiting for Bailey to reappear. I was wearing skinny jeans, a plain shirt, jacket, boots, and sunglasses. My everyday wear for normal days. I still wish now I'd had a little more warning. But at least it saved me stress and sleepless nights.

Bailey reappeared not long later, followed closely by a man and a woman. I looked up from my nails where I'd been picking at them, eyes widening when I saw them.

Bailey slid into her seat, flashing me a smile and buckling up her seat belt. She'd changed into a summer dress, and still had my other jacket on, this time with her arms properly through the sleeves, which were of course way too long.

The man came up to my window, and I quickly rolled it down, turning slowly to face him, trying not to grimace. It wasn't how I'd expected meeting her father to be- sat in a sweltering-hot car, completely unprepared. But it's how it happened, and in a way, I'm glad of that now.

"Hello."

I smiled at him a little, trying to be normal.

"So you're the boy our girl can't stop talking about, huh?"

I nod slowly, taking a sweaty hand off of the steering wheel to pull my hair back from my face. "I guess I am." Which he for some reason found funny.

He leant an elbow on the window once the laughter subsided, nodding slowly to himself. "You sure you're not a girl?" He reached a hand, tugging slightly at a bit of my hair, and I grinned.

"Dad, please!" Bailey looked so embarrassed beside me that I laughed again, reaching a hand onto her knee out of habit, not even realising what I'm doing until I realise her father was looking. But I didn't move it, because that would look worse. Thankfully, he seems to be smiling.

"Well, you seem like a nice enough lad. Alex, right?"

"Yes, Mr Bennah." I felt like I couldn't look him in the eye. I keep my eyes fixed on the window sill, darting them about a little to distract myself from the nerves fluttering about my stomach.

"Please, call me Brad!" He claps a hand to my shoulder, stepping back and leaving a peck on his wife's cheek.

I breathe out, looking across at Bailey, who just shrugs, before back to the window, at Bailey's mother. She's the spit image of Bailey- or rather the other way round- and so of course, very beautiful. She smiles brightly as she reaches the car window, immediately putting her hand to her mouth and breathing in deeply when she sees me properly.

"Oh my-" Her other hand reaches out, hesitating halfway. "Oh, you don't mind if I-" I shake my head, smiling as she puts her hand under my chin, fingers resting lightly against the slight beard there. Her thumb touches my cheek, moving back and forth a little, before she pulls back her hand, blushing.

"Sorry, my love. I couldn't help myself there!"

"Oh, it's okay. Don't worry." She nods although I can tell she's still worried. But I liked it, and I already like her. In a way, her gentle and kind manner just reminds me of Bailey, and I can definitely see how she is the way she is now I've met both her parents.

"It's so lovely to finally meet you, Alex. We've heard so much about you." She smiles warmly, hand resting just inside the window. "I must say- you're quite something, young man. When I first saw you- I mean. Wow. What beautiful hair, and face shape. The jacket that daughter of mine has stolen from you is lovely. As is this one. Are you just an endless fountain of jackets and beauty, my man?"

I can't help but blush at her compliments, and I watch as she runs a finger lightly down the velvet sleeve of my jacket, until she pulls away, looking embarrassed.

"It's fine, honestly. And it's lovely to meet you, too."

"I'm so glad you can put up with our daughter! She's had some trouble in the past with getting any attention!" She laughs, and I find myself smiling, looking back towards Bailey, whose face has gone red.

"Mum, please."

"Oh, you know I love you really, honey."

"And so do I. I wouldn't have you any other way, Bails." I squeeze her knee, and she places her hand over mine, smiling down at them.

"It's a good thing she never found anyone else, I guess, because now she's found you! And what a gem you are!"

I blush, looking into my lap. I really like her parents, and it's clear that they like me too, which is such a relief.

"Well, with that, I'd love to invite you over for dinner one of these days! How does that sound?"

"It sounds good! Thank you..."

"Lou." She smiles, reaching a hand to mine on the steering wheel and squeezing it. "It was lovely to meet you, Alex. We'll work out some details. Bailey can give you mine and Brad's numbers, can't you love? Right, I'll leave you two love birds to it, then! Don't be too naughty!"

"Mum!" But she's already walking away, laughing softly to herself.

I turned to Bailey, pushing my sunglasses down slightly to see her face better, and found her smiling at me.

"What?" I can't help but laugh, and the word comes out broken-up.

"So?"

"So what?"

"What did you think of them?"

"Honestly?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Yes, honestly!" She smacks my arm, but it doesn't hurt, and I just laugh, starting the engine and pulling the clutch ready to go. She places a hand over mine on the clutch, warming it, and I smile over at her, sunglasses still halfway down my nose.

"Well..."

"Alex! Just tell me!" I look mischievously over at her, pressing down on the accelerator and pulling away.

"What's it worth?" I wiggle my eyebrows, and she sighs deeply, hers furrowing.

"My love! I have to know that you love them because I do, and I also love you! What if you guys won't be able to get along? Stop messing about!"

I straighten my face, nodding seriously, even though on the inside I'm still laughing at how indignant she is.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I really do like them, Bailey."

"Really?"

"Really really."

She smiles, turning away from me towards her window and winding it down, so that the wind blows in and blows back her hair. We're silent for a minute, and then I take a breath, stifling laughter once more. To have more effect, I need to keep a straight face.

"You do look quite funny when you're indignant, though." I stay staring straight ahead, aware of her turning towards me oh-so slowly. I stare at the road, fighting the laughter in me and the upward-turning corners of my lips.

Then, agonisingly calmly, I push my eyes to the side, deliberately eyeing her until her frown breaks, and she starts to laugh. I allow myself to break too, laughing loudly so that people in the street look up as we pass.

But neither of us cared. I turned on some music, and we sang along loudly- and out of tune- for the rest of the drive, laughing and talking about nonsense.

I sigh, turning over and crawling further up the bed, shoving my head into a pillow. I don't want to think any more. I just want to sleep. Sleep does come surprisingly quickly, and it's deep and dreamless when it does.