You Were Made For Me

by Jenna Guillaume

  It’s not?

  Do you want me to write it? Because I will. You know I will.

  Hahahaha, okay, okay.

  Wait, let me make a cup of tea. Then I’ll dive right in.

  I’m shaking my head at you. Can you see me? I’m shaking it.

  (Make me one too please.)

  Twenty-Four

  Libby and I were dancing to a slow song, our arms on each other’s shoulders, when she gasped, her fingers digging into my skin.

  ‘Ow,’ I said, but she didn’t respond. She was too busy staring at something over my shoulder, her chin stuck out and her eyes wide in a way that was not unlike Ginny Weasley when she comes downstairs and finds Harry Potter sitting at her breakfast table in the Chamber of Secrets movie.

  My first thought was that Michael had shown up.

  My second thought was that Mikayla Fitzsimmons was heading our way.

  My third thought was –

  ‘Guy,’ Libby whispered.

  I held my breath, my heart pounding in my ears, almost drowning out the music as I turned.

  It felt like I was moving in slow motion.

  And there he was.

  He was wearing a suit with a velvet jacket that matched the blue of my dress. His hair was pushed back from his forehead, with a single lock dangling down and caressing his face.

  He was smiling.

  He was beautiful.

  And he was walking towards me.

  I exhaled and took a step towards him. Dimly I registered Libby pressing my hand before letting it go.

  Guy reached me. We stood there, taking each other in for a moment.

  ‘May I have this dance?’ he asked.

  I nodded.

  His hands encircled my waist, and I reached up to place mine on his shoulders. We swayed in time to the music and stared into each other’s eyes.

  A beat passed. And another.

  ‘I never expected to see you here tonight,’ I said. My voice was so quiet I thought maybe he wouldn’t hear me above the music. But he did.

  ‘I promised to take you to the formal. I couldn’t disappoint you.’

  ‘But – I disappointed you. I . . . I broke your heart. I don’t deserve this.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘You did break my heart. But hearts mend. Or so I’ve been told. And so do relationships. But that takes work. Showing up. So . . . here I am.’

  ‘Wait –’

  ‘Oh, I don’t mean . . .’ He paused, looking as though he was gathering his thoughts. ‘I still care about you, Kate. I would like to try to be your friend.’

  ‘You want to be friends?’

  He nodded. ‘More than anything. I don’t like carrying around this pain. I’ve been talking about it. A lot. With Theo. And Roger.’

  ‘Roger?’ I thought for a moment. ‘Wait – the old guy who hangs out on the park bench, the one you chat with all the time?’

  Guy chuckled. ‘That’s him. And . . . I’d like to forgive you. And heal.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Guy. For everything. You don’t know how sorry I am.’

  ‘I think I do.’ His hands on my back gave a gentle, reassuring press. ‘I know you, Katherine Camilleri. And I forgive you.’

  I felt tears prick my eyes. ‘I hate myself for hurting you.’

  He pulled me into a hug. ‘Please don’t. I don’t hate you.’ Into my ear, he said, ‘I did say I wanted to experience everything with you. I guess I didn’t think heartbreak would be on that list but . . . I’m happy to be alive to experience it. To experience anything.’

  He took a step back. ‘You were my world, Kate. But what I didn’t realise was that probably wasn’t a good thing. Not for you . . . and not for me, either. I need to figure things out for myself. Learn. Grow. Find my own purpose. Become my own person.’ He smiled. ‘A real human being.’

  I squeezed his hand. ‘If I can help in any way . . .’

  ‘I’ll let you know.’ He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. ‘Until then . . .’ His thumb trailed a line from my temple down my cheek before coming to my lips. He leaned down one last time.

  The kiss was soft. The kiss was sweet.

  It tasted like cookie dough.

  It also tasted like goodbye.

  He pulled away first. I opened my eyes and looked into his.

  We both smiled. We understood each other.

  It was over.

  It might not have been perfect, but it had happened. And that was what mattered.

  ‘What now?’ I said.

  He grinned and spun me around. ‘Now I go and find my own purpose.’

  I laughed and pulled myself in closer to him. ‘That’s right. And forget all about me.’

  He brought his forehead to mine. For that one final moment, all I could see was him.

  ‘I could never forget about you,’ he whispered.

  And then he disappeared into thin air!!!

  It’s true. After that night, he disappeared. Just vanished into thin air. Or wherever he came from.

  By the way, where DID he come from? I think we should do some more experiments and –

  No. No more experiments. No more playing around with life itself. We’re not gods.

  Of course we’re not. We’re scientists. Well, I’m a scientist.

  And I’m an artist.

  A writer, a painter, a sculptor . . . a creator.

  Yeah, you are.

  Hey, we did it! We told the story. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  I think you’re forgetting one thing, though.

  This is the story of Guy. Guy’s story is over.

  We both know this is your story. And it’s definitely not over.

  Well, I’d hope not. I want to live until I’m at least a hundred and seven years old and we’re both in a nursing home with no teeth and barely any memories, cackling at something ridiculous that no one else understands.

  That sounds lovely. But right now, let’s talk about Theo.

  Theo?

  Theo.

  Twenty-Five

  Theo.

  What can I say about Theo?

  He’s my best friend in the world (other than Libby, of course).

  Of course.

  And I love him. Of course I do.

  I’ve loved him for most of my life.

  But it was only recently that I realised I liked him, too.

  I mean liked him. You know.

  We know. You wanted to jump his bones.

  Libby!

  Okay, okay. You wanted to smoosh your face against his.

  I mean . . . yeah, basically.

  Let me back up.

  It was a few weeks after the formal, and Theo was at my place. We were playing Yahtzee at the kitchen table. We weren’t talking much. There’d been a weird awkwardness between us since the whole Guy thing. I put it down to the fact that we hadn’t unpacked what had happened. I was too scared to break our shaky truce to bring it up, and Theo didn’t really seem mad anymore.

  That was my excuse, anyway.

  ‘Yesss,’ I hissed as I rolled a full house, writing down my score. I looked over at Theo. He was frowning. ‘You may as well give up now,’ I said. ‘There’s no way you can beat me.’

  He didn’t say anything, just took the dice and shook them in the cup before rolling them onto the table. He’d rolled a small straight, but he picked up all of the dice except one to roll again.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I said. ‘You had a straight!’

  ‘Huh?’ He looked at the dice in his hand. He seemed to be in a bit of a daze. ‘Oh. Oops.’

  I shook my head. In the past I would have teased him more, but it felt strange now. Because of our fight and all.

  Or so I told myself.

  Theo was rolling the dice around in his hand. I couldn’t help myself. ‘Are you going to roll or what?’

  He blinked. ‘What? Ah. Yeah. Sorry.’ He rolled the dice again. Instead of finishing his turn he looked at me. ‘Want to come to m
ine for dinner tomorrow?’

  ‘What?’ I’d been to Theo’s for dinner approximately a billion times in my life . . . but I couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually asked me over.

  He cleared his throat. ‘So, you remember how I thought Dad was seeing someone?’ I nodded. ‘Turns out I was right.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Theo pressed his lips together, his dimples on display. ‘And he’s bringing her home for dinner. Tomorrow night.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Are you – are you okay?’

  He shrugged. ‘I dunno. I think so. But . . . I’m nervous, I guess. Lena and Sophia have been arguing since Dad told us on Wednesday. Sophia says we should be happy for Dad, but Lena’s having a fit. I don’t even know what to think.’

  ‘Sounds tense,’ I said. I tentatively reached out and placed my hand on Theo’s, which was resting on the table. ‘Is it really a good idea for me to be there?’

  He looked down at our hands. ‘Yeah.’ His voice was soft. ‘I think I need you there. I mean, I think we all do. It’ll break the tension, you know?’

  I squeezed his hand. ‘Will your dad be okay with it?’

  ‘Of course. He loves you.’

  ‘Katie! What are you doing here?’ Theo’s dad Nick was patting at his eyes with the back of his hand, which was holding a knife. He was in the middle of chopping onions.

  ‘Um, Theo invited me over for dinner?’

  Nick was squeezing his eyes open and shut. ‘Oh, he did, did he? Well. I suppose that’s alright.’

  ‘Come over for the show, have you?’ Lena said, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge. She stared into it for a second before closing it again. ‘Theo’s still at work.’ She leaned her head back on the fridge door and crossed her arms.

  I nodded, feeling more awkward and unwelcome than I’d ever felt in this house before. ‘Do you need any help?’ I asked Nick.

  ‘No, no. It’s fine. We’re going to have a lovely evening.’ He looked at Lena through narrowed eyes, although whether that was because of the onions or more of a warning look, I’m not sure. She scowled and walked out of the kitchen.

  Nick sighed.

  ‘Um . . . I’ll just go and wait in Theo’s room, if that’s okay.’

  Nick waved the knife in my direction distractedly. ‘No worries.’

  Any other time I might have insisted on helping him with dinner, but today I had other plans.

  I don’t need to tell you that the dinner was awkward as hell. Kim, Nick’s girlfriend (wow, that’s a weird thing to call an old person), seemed really nice. But it was still strange to see someone other than Theo’s mum sitting at that dinner table. And Nick smiling and laughing with someone other than Ella.

  But it was also kind of nice to see him smiling and laughing at all.

  Kim was trying her best to ask questions and make conversation. Sophia put a lot of effort in, and Theo did pretty well, too, although I could tell he was stressed. He kept jiggling his knee, and whenever nobody was looking – except me, I guess – his dimples would come out, and not because he was smiling.

  Then there was Lena. She basically grunted at Kim whenever she tried to talk to her. It got to the point where Nick dropped his fork and said, ‘Lena, come on.’

  She just stared at him and said, ‘I’m finished. Can I be excused?’

  He sighed, and I could see him hesitating. He was probably trying to decide whether it was worth an argument or not. I guess he decided it wasn’t, because he said, ‘Sure, go ahead.’

  ‘Us too?’ Theo said quickly.

  Nick looked at him, surprised, and then his face fell and he nodded.

  ‘We’ll wash up,’ I said.

  Kim said, ‘No, don’t be silly! I’ll do that.’ She was smiling, but there was a tightness around her eyes. This must’ve been really weird for her, too.

  ‘Come on, KC,’ Theo said. He grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the back door.

  ‘Thanks for dinner,’ I said over my shoulder.

  Once we were outside, Theo took in a deep breath. He didn’t drop my hand.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ I said.

  He paused and glanced back towards the house. ‘She seems nice.’

  ‘She does.’

  ‘I’m happy for him,’ he said, but I could hear a tiny crack in his voice.

  I stepped forward and circled my arms around his shoulders. He buried his head in my neck. We didn’t say anything for a moment. We just held each other tight.

  ‘Sorry,’ Theo said, pulling away. ‘I’m okay. Really, I am. I’m just . . .’

  ‘Sad?’ I said.

  He nodded. ‘Yeah. I’m a little sad.’

  ‘I think I know exactly what you need.’

  He raised an eyebrow questioningly. I stepped in front of him and opened the door to his room, pulling him in behind me. I turned so I could watch his face when he saw what I’d done earlier.

  His eyes widened in surprise, and then his dimples were back, only this time it was because he was smiling so much.

  ‘When did you do this?’ he said with a small laugh. He stepped through the gap in the blanket fort I’d built. ‘Whoa.’

  I followed him in and admired my handiwork. I’d strung our spare Christmas lights up along one side of the fort, and placed all of Theo’s favourite snacks (and some of mine) on his bedside table. On the bed, I’d placed a piece I’d been working on for a while and had called in sick at work that day to finish off. It felt like the right time to give it to Theo.

  ‘You owe me,’ Alex had said when he agreed to cover my shift.

  ‘Add it to my tab,’ I’d responded.

  Theo picked up the painting. I’d used an old photo of him and his mum for reference, one of my favourites. They were both holding cones stacked high with ice-cream, each with a dob of it on their noses. Their heads were tossed back in laughter, their matching smiles with their matching dimples on display.

  I’d done my best to capture the love and the warmth and the happiness that emanated from that photo – not just how it looked, but how it felt. How I remembered it.

  ‘Do you like it?’ I said. I tried to sound casual, but my heart was in my throat. I felt more nervous about this than I had about the mural being unveiled.

  Theo didn’t speak. He just nodded. I sat down on the bed and got a better view of his face. There were tears shining in his eyes.

  ‘I just thought . . . I dunno. I’ve been working on it off and on for ages. I knew today was going to be hard, and I didn’t want to make it harder. But I thought –’

  ‘It’s perfect,’ he said. ‘You’re perfect.’

  ‘It’s – what?’

  He put the drawing down and ran his fingers through his hair, backing up a step. ‘Um, I mean. I love you. It! I love it. I – oh god.’

  I stared at him, not quite knowing how to process the direction the conversation had taken.

  ‘I’m glad you love it,’ I said finally.

  His shoulders slumped. ‘You,’ he said, so quietly I wasn’t sure I had actually heard him.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You.’ His voice was louder this time. He met my eyes. ‘I love . . . you.’

  I inhaled sharply. ‘I-love-you-too?’ It came out quickly, sounding like a question.

  Theo sighed and took a step closer. He hesitated for a moment then sat down on the bed next to me. ‘No. Not like that. Like . . . You know. Like that.’ He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and then stared straight ahead, his lips pursed.

  ‘Oh,’ was all I could get out.

  ‘Yeah. So. Well. I wasn’t going to tell you. Ever. It was going to be my secret. I was going to ignore it until it went away. I mean, we’ve been friends forever and I didn’t want to wreck everything, you know? But I just like you. So much. I like how you dream. I like your ambition. I like how you cheat every time we play Monopoly but will never admit it. I like the way your eyes scrunch up when you’re c
oncentrating. I like how you laugh and how you talk and how you look and how you think and how you feel and – god. I even like it when you’re mad and when you annoy me and . . . the thing is, I’d never thought about kissing you until that night we talked about first kisses – you know, just before – well, Guy. Then all of a sudden, it was all I could think about. But you were with him. And he was so . . . Guy. He was so. Perfect. What you wanted. That was what you wanted. And I realised you’d never want me. Like that. Like I . . . like I wanted you. And it’s okay because they’re my feelings and you don’t have to return them and we can still be friends – oh god, please I hope we can still be friends – and I’ll work through it, okay, I’ll –’

  He stopped short when I placed my hand on his. Suddenly I felt calm. It was like he was absorbing all the possible nervousness that could exist between us. I’d realised something as he spoke. It was as though a switch had been flicked inside of me. And what had always been there had come into the light. Those feelings. And they were saying, Ha! You’ve been ignoring us but you can’t any longer!

  It was like a weight had been lifted from my chest.

  ‘Theo,’ I said. ‘You’re rambling.’

  He swallowed. ‘I am.’

  ‘I’ve never heard you ramble before.’

  He let out a small laugh. ‘I don’t think I ever have rambled before.’

  ‘It’s cute,’ I said.

  ‘It’s – cute?’

  ‘You’re cute.’ I was grinning now.

  ‘I’m cute?’ He said, looking completely bewildered.

  I nodded. I leaned towards him. We looked into each other’s eyes.

  Are we really doing this? his eyes said.

  We’re really doing this, mine replied.

  And then I closed them, and kissed him.

  It wasn’t my first kiss.

  It wasn’t even my second.

  But that didn’t matter.

  Because it was perfect to me.

  Ugh. You guys are sickening.

  You asked for it!

  And I loved every second of it.

  Kate, are you sure this is how you want to end it? I mean, you’ve done a wonderful job, but it’s not exactly the whole truth, is it? The part where you said I disappeared into thin air wasn’t really acc–