Today is my turn to watch Beth.

As usual, Beth is sulking on Tom's couch.

She lies there under a beige blanket, staring at her fingers as she twitches them.

I'm sprawled out on the bed, watching her. My hands are behind my head, cushioning it.

She hates being in my presence. Every time she is, she sulks. She won't do anything with me, let alone talk to me. 

The last few weeks have been agonising and I wish more than anything we could find the love for each other again.

Since I found out about her situation, Tom and I agreed to take turns watching Beth. She's never left alone between the two of us and I'm fairly certain she hates that. The whole situation is giving off some weird wolf-pack-body-guard type vibes. 

I don't enjoy working with Tom. He's stuck up, self-righteous and a know-it-all. Those types of people really piss me off.

Ever since my own Mom died, those types of people have pissed me off. I don't like the attention. It's like everyone is crowding around you and  taking pity on you because they know you're weak and helpless.

They know you don't have a voice. And they think you're too stupid to voice it because, well, you're a child who's only parent just died.

Tom gives me that vibe.

Every time he opens his mouth, I cringe at the words that come out. It's like listening to nails scratching down a chalkboard.

Tom doesn't deserve Beth with the way he spews out words. He treats her like she's to be pitied.

I don't like that.

I need to show Beth that I'm the better guy somehow. She needs to forget about Tom.

I sit up suddenly with an idea on how to make her feel better.

"You wanna see something cool?"

"No."

"You can't sit here and sulk all day."

"I can and I will."

"Not on my watch you're not!" I say, walking over to her. "We're going to do something today."

I hold out my hand waiting for her to take it like she used too.

She doesn't.

She pouts and rolls away from, drawing a blanket up over her head.

"Oh, come on! Why can't we just get along? For once?" I whinge.

"Because I hate you."

The words cut like a knife through my chest. No matter how many times she says the words, 'I hate you', I will never get over it.

I need to make this right.

"Righteo then!"

I scoop down and pick her up, cradling her in my arms.

"Hamilton McKenna! Put me down at once!"

I glance down at her face. Her gray eyes are hard and cold like she's a stone statue. Her face is furious and her cheeks glow with a fierce fury.

"I told you we're going to go do something today," I say, carrying her to the door and hitting the release button with my elbow. "I'm tired of sitting here waiting for you to come around."

We enter the hallway and I carry her past a few blocks. Several people are staring at us and I know she's conscious of the attention.

"Put me down!" she half-shouts.

"Are you going to keep sulking?"

"Yes."

"Then no."

"Hamilton!" she growls.

I grin as I finally reach a staircase that descends to level three.

"I don't want to go to the Secret Room," she whispers.

"We're not going there."

"We're not?"

"Nope! I found something the other day and I wanna show you."

I finally reach a door labelled 567 and place Beth on her feet. Making sure she doesn't run off on me, I pull out an old paper clip from the pocket of my faded jeans. I pick the lock, successfully unlocking it, and push the door open.

Inside it is dark and dusty.

I motion for her to go. "Ladies first."

I smile as she scowls and moves past me into the room.

"It's just boxes," she says, unimpressed.

"Let your eyes adjust."

We stand in silence and I wait for her to say something.

"What is all this stuff?"

I smile. She's noticed.

The room isn't filled with boxes as she first thought. Instead, there is an old gramophone in the centre of the room. There's a stack of old vinyl records of every type of music ever known to the old human race scattered around the room.

"I've spent the last month unpacking every disc and storing it accordingly," I tell Beth.

"Why? What's the point of doing that? It's just junk."

I scowl. "It's not junk."

"Looks like it to me."

"Do you wanna hear it or not?" I snap, losing my patience.

"It makes noise?"

"Sure as hell does!"

I walk up to the gramophone and pick up the first record on top. I've been listening to this one and figured Beth and would like it too.

Picking it up by the rim, I put the record on the gramophone's plate. I place the little stick thing that makes the gramophone sing onto the record.

It scratches and squeals before it hits its target.

'Oooooh, you can dance, you can jive.'

Beth gasps.

'Having the time of your life.'

"What is this?"

"I don't know, but someone called ABBA sang it."

"Did they used to listen to this?"

'Digging the Dancing Queen.'

She's referring to the people who lived a hundred years ago. "I think so."

She walks up to the gramophone and leans in.

"It's beautiful," she whispers. "In a weird way."

I smile. Maybe winning Beth over was as simple as playing her music?

I walk up behind her and place my hand over hers on the rim of the gramophone stand.

She looks up at me.

I see a wisp of what we used to be in the corner of her gray eyes and how good it felt to be loved by her. I take the chance and grab her hand, pulling her away from the gramophone and swirling her around.

"Hamilton!" she shouts, surprised as I catch her other arm, snuggly. "What are you doing!?"

I smile and begin to sway to the music. "Dancing with my queen."

She chokes.

I twirl her and break apart into a weird jive that I think the original Colony would be proud of.

"Singing the dancing queen!" I sing at the top of my lungs as I jump around like a weirdo.

Beth's eyes are wide with shock. No doubt she was thinking that I've lost my mind.

Not that I cared of course. Because the goal here is to win back Beth by reminding her of what we used to be.

"YOU CAN DANCE!" I shout, turning my fist into a makeshift microphone and lunging to the floor on one knee. "Come on! Sing it with me! YOU CAN JIVE!"

She stands there, still in shock so I grab her hands and wave them around to the beat of the music.

"HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!"

She's still rigid as a stone statue.

"Come on! Dance with me!" I whinge.

She can't hold it in any longer.

A smile breaks out over her face and she finally breaks out into a bout of laughter. "You look like such an idiot!"

"The one and only idiot you'll ever see dancing though!"

There's a glint of amusement in her eye.

"Now dance like you'll never see me dance again!" I shout.

She doesn't need to be told twice and suddenly she's copying my weird dance moves to the rest of the song. It feels like we never fought. Like she's always loved me and it was imperative that we'd kiss after such a delightful moment.

And then to my surprise the song ends.

But it can't end there because I needed Beth to trust me again.

I made her smile.

Not Tom.

Not anyone else.

Me.

I'm what she needs right now and she's what I want.

Without thinking twice, I lean down towards her.

My lips make contact with hers. They're smooth and taste like the same old strawberry gloss. She doesn't resist so I place my hand behind her head and kiss her harder.

I so desperately want the unwavering access to the Beth I once called mine.

I scrunch up her hair and pull her in tight to my chest, waiting to feel her reciprocate the actions of my lips.

After a minute, I'm breathless and hot. But Beth doesn't see that and instead takes the opportunity to pull away from me.

"Hamilton!"

"What?" I ask between breaths. "What's wrong?"

"You! How dare you kiss me! How dare you-"

I don't let her finish and place my hand over her lips cutting her off.

I lean in so I'm close to her ear.

"This will be our little secret," I whisper.

She gapes at me, but can't finish her protest with my hand over her mouth.

"I wanted to know if the old Beth was still in there." I smile and pull away.

"Did you find her?" she snaps.

I stare into those gray eyes of hers that I love so much and nod. "Yes, I believe she's still in there."

She scowls. "You disgust me."

"I know. Now, does the lovely dancing queen want to hear another one?"

Slowly she nods, still too surprised by what's happened to protest any further.

I grin.

Walking over to the gramophone, I pick up another vinyl and swap them over.

I smile to myself.

That'll be one for Ham, and zero for Tom.