This is a Love Story by Jessica Thompson Page A

lurched from side to side as it positioned itself in its charge for America. It swung down sharply, giving Nick and me a view of patchwork fields, so far away now they looked like my grandmother had knitted them. It was stunning.
    Something in our relationship shifted during our trip to America. As soon as we touched down on the runway, work took over and Nick morphed into a different man. It was a fascinating transition to watch, but I felt like a distant party looking in from the outside. He seemed like a totally different person away from the hysteria of the office and his broken relationship, and again I was reminded how far I was from really knowing him. I felt light years away from that stolen moment we had shared – a single tear wiped from my face just a few hundred feet from the ground when I felt like we were already lost in the clouds.
    He took hundreds of photographs, then tucked himself away in remote corners to upload them to the work server back home. He was a true professional. Passionate and confident. He wasn’t just the office prankster he made himself out to be. I had been worried that he would throw me in a dumpster or something, or that one of his jokes gone wrong would land us both behind bars. But he was far from being that boy here. He was a man. And seeing this side of him made him even more attractive.
    The gaming convention was everything I’d hoped it would be and more. I threw myself into interviewing and met everyone from the archetypal geek to the closet gamer. Businessmen with wives, busy schedules and incredibly fast thumbs from secret console sessions in the twilight hours, mingled with out-and-out joystick freaks. America was as brash, outrageous and eccentric as I’d always imagined it would be. And I saw enough nutcases in fancy dress to last me a lifetime. I grew particularly fond of a young man called Buck, whose job it was to wander around dressed as Sonic the Hedgehog, giving out Twinkies to passers-by. He asked for my number. I asked to see his face. He refused. I found this odd, so I avoided him after that.
    On our first night I made a couple of calls home, checking everything was OK, then Nick and I had dinner at an uptown sushi bar.
    ‘Can I ask you something? And if it’s none of my business then just tell me to sod off, but is there something going on back home? You seem troubled,’ he said out of the blue, massacring a sushi roll with his chopsticks. ‘I get the impression there’s some kind of problem – or is your dad just overprotective?’ he went on, giving up and stabbing the fish roll through the middle before sending it to the depths of his stomach.
    I had a split second to respond to this question and I did a very bad thing. I lied. I was worried he would be freaked out. It was better not to tell him.
    ‘Oh, it’s nothing. Just got a couple of things on my mind at home.’ My blood ran cold as I realised I had been dishonest. Something in his eyes told me he didn’t believe a word. But something stopped me telling the truth.
    ‘So, anyway, tell me about your family . . .’ I threw in a quick subject change, taking a gentle swig of my vodka and lemonade.
    He was wearing a crisp white shirt with thin red stripes, matched with a pair of dark jeans and a brown belt. He looked so good it hurt.
    ‘Well . . . Where do I start? I have two parents who are, remarkably, still together, despite what seems like a loud and theatrical bust-up every day for the past twenty years. I have a sister who mocks everything about my existence, and a dog called Mildred who just sits and looks at me adoringly. I’m closest to the dog by far – she makes the most sense. How about you?’
    I love dogs. I love that he loves dogs. Maybe one day we can have a house in the country full of dogs. Oh dear, it had swung round to me again. Shit.
    ‘Er, well. I’m an only child. I was always envious of people with brothers and sisters but I guessed I missed out on the rivalry and