SUN KISSED

by Jenny McLachlan

  ‘Phosphorescence.’ Leo turns round in the sea and he’s surrounded in a swirl of colour. ‘Heatless light generated by marine organisms.’

  ‘Nope. It’s definitely magic,’ I say. ‘Probably something to do with mermaids.’ I lift one arm out of the water and the luminous specks cling to my skin. ‘Or it could be fairies.’

  ‘Or chemicals.’

  ‘More likely it’s fairies.’ I try to catch a handful. I think I’m starting to believe in magic.

  ‘It’s in your hair,’ says Leo. He reaches towards me then drops his hand. We stare at each other. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

  I nod. The sky above us is vast and starry and just two feet of glittery sea separate us. More than anything I want to swim into his arms. I hardly dare to breathe. Something should happen now, but I need Leo to make it happen. If only the crab from The Little Mermaid could pop out of the sea and start singing ‘Kiss the Girl’.

  But Sebastian doesn’t make an appearance – that would be too much magic for one night. Instead, Leo says, ‘You’re getting cold. Let’s go back.’ Then he turns and starts to swim towards the shore.

  I am cold. Shivering, I follow Leo through the fading phosphorescence. I can’t stop thinking that something has just changed and Leo is drifting away from me again, like he did when we came back from Vilda. I push the thought away. He just spent the whole day with me. He cooked me pasta! It’s just that when I’m with Leo, life feels different to anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s like phosphorescence: too amazing to believe and impossible to hold on to.

  We pull ourselves back up on the rocks and dry off. I put on my dress and feel in the pocket to check my letter from Bea and Betty is still there. ‘Shall I walk you back to your cabin?’ asks Leo.

  ‘I’m fine. It’s not that far.’ I want to think about today, about every moment.

  ‘Perhaps I will see you tomorrow?’ He says this quickly, like he’s embarrassed. He pulls his towel round his shoulders. ‘I’m going back to Stockholm on Saturday, just for one day, but except for that, I’m around most days.’

  ‘I’d like to see you tomorrow.’ Clearly, this is a massive understatement. ‘And thank you for the pasta … and the plaster,’ I say. ‘That rhymes!’ Shut up, Kat, wave and leave. I force myself to turn round. ‘And the Plopp!’ I call over my shoulder.

  Then I walk across the island, and I think about everything: every smile, every word and every glitter of phosphorescence. It happened, and I never, ever want to forget it.

  ELEVEN

  ‘Ahh! Look at Otto,’ says Nanna. ‘He’s totes adoreballs.’

  ‘Adorbs, and enough with the totes, Nanna … but, yes, he does look cute.’ Otto has set up his disco in a corner of the cafe and he’s put on his smiley face waistcoat again. The Friday night disco’s much smaller than Solsken, but the cafe’s still buzzing. Nanna and I are sitting round one of the rocks that sticks up through the decking making a lumpy and very impractical table. We’re sharing some fries which taste amazeballs. They should do, they cost nearly five pounds.

  The sea is a spectacular blue and so still that every tree, rock and boat has its mirror image reflected perfectly in the water. The evening sun and Otto’s ambient tunes add to the magical atmosphere, as does the knowledge that any minute now, Leo will turn up. We’ve spent the past three days together, almost every moment. I’ve helped him paint the fence round his tent, we’ve kayaked around the island, swum, eaten loads of ice cream, but most of all we’ve spent hours hanging out at the cafe and talking. It’s been amazing … Except for the lack of kissing, but surely that will change tonight.

  ‘You look pretty,’ says Nanna. ‘Like a sunflower.’

  ‘Tall and droopy?’

  ‘No! You know what I mean.’

  ‘Big head?’

  ‘No. You stand out.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I look down at my yellow dress. Compared to the holidaymakers, I’ve clearly made an effort. Everyone else is in shorts and flip-flops. It took me ages to decide what to wear tonight.

  ‘And your hair looks cool. You look like thingy from The Hunger Games.’

  Instinctively, I touch my plait. When we were getting ready, Nanna couldn’t believe how I could do my hair without using a mirror. I had to explain that back at school, I have four hours of maths a week and a teacher on the verge of a nervous breakdown. This gives me plenty of time to practise plaiting techniques.

  Sören sits down with us. He’s holding a massive ice cream. ‘Otto says he wants us to work on our front crawl tomorrow,’ he tells Nanna, ignoring me as usual. ‘Oh, and he wanted me to tell you that your face looks like a cowpat.’

  ‘Shut up.’

  ‘A fresh cowpat …’

  ‘Shut up!’

  ‘… from an ugly cow.’

  ‘SHUT UP!’ Nanna hits the bottom of the cone so that ice cream splodges all over his face and glasses.

  ‘Don’t care,’ he says, leaving the smeared ice cream where it is.

  ‘Hej!’ a voice calls out, a voice that manages to be deep and gentle all at the same time. I look up. Leo is walking towards us. He’s wearing khaki shorts and a crumpled shirt and his brown-blond hair is as tangled and sea-styled as it was when I first saw him. I don’t think my hair cut has made any difference. He looks totally and utterly right. My heart does a somersault.

  ‘Leo!’ Nanna leaps up and throw her arms around him.

  ‘Hello,’ he says, laughing. He glances down at me and smiles. Immediately, I blush.

  ‘I hope you’ve been in training,’ says Sören, quickly wiping the ice cream off his face. ‘Nanna and I are going to beat you in Tuff Troll this year.’ The moment he finishes speaking, Nanna hits the cone again, shrieking with laughter. ‘Dumbom!’ Sören tries to stick the ice cream in her face.

  ‘Don’t be so rude to Kat,’ she says. ‘Speak in English.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Sören says to me.

  ‘That’s OK. I know what a dumbom is.’

  ‘It’s Nanna,’ he says.

  Leo sits next to me, so close our shoulders are almost touching. ‘They’ve been like this since I first met them when they were five,’ he tells me.

  ‘And you were so grown up and eight,’ says Nanna. ‘Actually, you were almost entirely grown up when you were eight.’ I try not to stare at Leo’s toffee-coloured hair or the way it curls by his ears, or the manly way he grips his bottle of lingonberry juice. I try not to stare, but I fail, and it’s impossible not to meet his eyes. Nanna saves us from an awkward situation by saying, ‘Awks. Why’s no one speaking?’

  ‘We are,’ I say quickly. ‘I love your eyes, Leo.’ Shirt. SHIRT! I meant to say shirt. Oh, God.

  ‘Thanks,’ he says, laughing.

  Then Nanna really does save us from a truly awkward situation by shouting, ‘“Happyland”!’ And jumping to her feet. ‘Who’s going to dance with me?’

  I look at the empty dance floor. ‘But no one’s dancing,’ I say. ‘Not even the children.’

  ‘Seriously, Nanna,’ says Sören, ‘ “Happyland”?’

  ‘I just love it.’ She’s jiggling around on the spot. ‘Please!’

  ‘I’ll dance with you,’ says Leo. He gets up, takes her by the hand like she’s Cinderella and leads her on to the tiny dance floor. Then they start to dance, properly dance. Leo twirls her under his arm and everything. Soon they’re surrounded by children who tug them apart, hold on to their hands and make them dance in a huge circle.

  Leo didn’t want to dance, but he did. He did it for Nanna. ‘Come on, Sören,’ I say, getting to my feet.

  ‘No way,’ he says, putting the last bit of cone into his mouth. Then he sighs and stands up, tugging his T-shirt down. ‘Alright,’ he says, ‘but this is all my dumbom sister’s fault.’

  Soon, the sun is setting, and I am jumping up and down with a little girl called Moa. Another song I’ve never heard of comes on, but I don’t care and neither does Moa. Leo and Nanna’s waltz goes badly wrong and Sören is stan
ding on a rock. He might be dancing, or he might be pretending to be a robot. Hard to tell. ‘Snabbare!’ shouts Moa. Faster!

  ‘Hold on!’ I say, then I pull her round so fast she screams with delight. I look over at Leo and he’s watching me. This time neither of us look away. I’m in happyland.

  After the next song, we go back to the rock. Most of the children are dragged off to bed and, all around us, tea lights glitter on the tables. Nanna starts reminiscing about the old days. Apparently, one legendary summer, Leo wore denim cut-offs that his mum had sown Lisa Simpson patches on. He shakes his head. ‘It was Bart.’

  ‘Doesn’t make it any better,’ I say.

  ‘At least he wasn’t being a punk,’ Sören says. ‘Last year, Nanna was a punk and the year before that she was a goth.’

  ‘But I found wearing black too hot,’ she says.

  Otto puts on ‘Lovefool’ by The Cardigans, and when the chorus starts the four of us join in. I look around. No one in the cafe seems to mind.

  And that’s when I see her. A girl wearing shorts and boots is walking straight towards us, her perfect blonde hair swinging from side to side. A delicate gold chain with a swirling ‘P’ rests on her chest. She crouches down just behind Leo, wraps her fingers over his eyes and puts her mouth close to his ear. ‘Gissa vem?’ she says. Guess who? Her nails are shell-pink and her hair falls over Leo’s shoulder.

  He puts his fingers on hers. For a moment he doesn’t speak, then he says ‘Peeta?’ Nanna’s eyes grow wide and I stare, confused.

  ‘I managed to come early,’ she whispers into his ear.

  Leo sits there, his fingers still resting on hers, and time stands still. My heart thuds in my chest. ‘But … you weren’t supposed to be coming until the race,’ he says, pulling down her hands. He stares up at her then jumps to his feet. ‘Sorry, I mean –’ But he doesn’t finish his sentence because Peeta slips her arms round his waist and kisses him. On the lips. Peeta not Peter. I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.

  Leo steps back but his hand rests on her shoulder and the pain inside me grows stronger. Quickly, he says, ‘This is my friend, Peeta.’

  ‘Girlfriend!’ she says, slapping him playfully on the tummy. ‘You’re so shy, Leo.’ She smiles at each of us in turn. She has a single dimple on her left cheek and her hair is spun gold. She looks like an angel.

  Nanna leans towards me. ‘Amazeboobs,’ she whispers. ‘Is that right?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘That’s right.’ Peeta’s wearing a very tight vest. She’s amaze-everything.

  ‘Where are you staying?’ Leo asks.

  ‘The youth hostel. I’m lucky they had a free bed because of a cancellation, so I’ve booked it until after Tuff Troll.’

  ‘OK,’ says Leo, nodding. They sit down together and Peeta tells us about her journey and her run for the ferry. ‘If I hadn’t been in training for Tuff Troll, I might not have made it.’ Leo has been staring at the ground, but he glances up at me. I turn away and pretend to be fascinated by the sunset. ‘Lovefool’ is still playing. I stare and stare at the sunset until I stop wanting to cry. Why didn’t he tell me he had a girlfriend? Or have I been imagining everything that’s happened over the past few days? When the phosphorescence swirled round us under the stars, was he thinking about her?

  I force myself to turn back and smile and laugh at everything Peeta says – refusing to look at Leo – and generally I act like I couldn’t care less that he’s got a girlfriend. I’m a good actor. Soon, I’ve learnt a lot about her. Somehow, all our conversations come back to the topic of Peeta and how awesome she is.

  ‘I love that you two are twins,’ she tells Sören and Nanna. ‘There’s a town in Brazil where eight per cent of the population are twins. I went there last year with my mum and we worked with street children. We travelled around afterwards. It helped my Portuguese and my football. Those kids know how to kick a ball!’ She says all this in perfect English with a slight American accent from her time ‘spent in the States’, and she uses English words I don’t even know. She loves the ‘iridescence’ of the sea and says I look ‘resplendent’ in my dress. Is this a compliment? I’m not sure. Suddenly, I hate sitting here in my yellow dress. I wish I could disappear.

  Otto puts on a dance track and comes over to us. He stands looking down at us, arms folded. His eyes flick from me to Peeta, taking everything in, and I have the terrible feeling that he knew about Peeta and that she was coming out here. Peeta beams up at him. ‘What gave you the idea of starting Tuff Troll?’ she asks.

  ‘You’ve all heard of Ö Till Ö?’

  Everyone nods, except me. I’m finding it hard to concentrate on anything right now. ‘It’s one of the world’s toughest endurance races and it happens right here in the archipelago.’ He slaps his big hand down on our rock. ‘Contestants race in pairs, swimming between twenty-four islands. When they get to an island, they climb out of the water and run. Ten kilometres of swimming and sixty-five kilometres of running. All in one day.’ His eyes grow wide. ‘I kept seeing all these fat lazy teenagers turning up at the island and eating fries and drinking fizzy stuff –’ He pauses here. I’m sipping my Coke and my straw is making big slurpy noises. ‘So I started Tuff Troll. It’s just a bit of fun: a kilometre of swimming and kayaking, and five or so kilometres of running.’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ says Peeta.

  ‘In three weeks,’ Otto says, staring at us each in turn, ‘we will discover who are the toughest trolls on Stråla!’ Suddenly he scowls. ‘Song’s ending,’ he says, walking off. Peeta starts to describe her unusual, but excellent sea-swimming technique.

  Out of nowhere, Leo says, ‘Kat’s good at the crawl.’

  Everyone looks at me. Peeta narrows her eyes. It’s just for a moment – no one else notices – then she smiles and says, ‘Are you entering Tuff Troll, Kat?’

  ‘No. I’m that lazy sort of teenager. I’ll sit on this rock, eat fries and drink Coke, and watch you guys doing it.’

  Peeta shrugs. ‘I guess it’s not for everyone.’ Then she rests her arm across Leo’s back. ‘Also,’ she says, ‘you don’t have anyone to enter with, do you?’

  For a moment, no one speaks. Everyone noticed that. She looks at me innocently. ‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘I definitely can’t enter.’

  ‘Do you think you could do it? I mean, if you did have someone to race with?’

  ‘Probably not,’ I say. Leo stares at his empty juice bottle and picks at the label.

  ‘Yes you could!’ cries Nanna, nudging me.

  ‘It’s a tough race.’ Peeta shrugs. ‘You have to be fit and focused.’ I bet when Peeta was little she used to pinch people. I’ve hardly spoken since she arrived, but somehow she knows how to get at me. ‘Hey,’ she says, turning to Leo and smiling brightly. ‘Will you show me the boats?’ She pulls him to his feet. As he walks away, he glances back at me, but I look away.

  Sören, Nanna and I sit in silence for a moment. ‘I’m getting a drink,’ says Sören. ‘Anyone want one?’ I shake my head. He shrugs and walks off, leaving me and Nanna alone. Together we watch as Peeta and Leo walk towards the harbour.

  After a moment, Nanna says, ‘I’m sorry, Kat. I didn’t know he had a girlfriend.’

  ‘Forget it,’ I say, shrugging. ‘We’re just friends. It doesn’t matter.’ Like I said, I’m a good actor. I turn to her. ‘How about a game of chess?’

  Nanna reaches for her rucksack. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes! Nothing says Friday night like a game of chess.’ I force myself to smile brightly, but inside, my heart is aching so much I want to curl up. After I’ve beaten Nanna – she lets me win – I say I’m going back to the cabin. I can’t fake happy for another moment.

  To get into the woods I have to walk past Leo and Peeta, who are sitting on the harbour wall. Peeta’s waving her hands around in an animated way, probably describing how she saved the life of a street child by doing an awesome tackle. I speed up, keen to get past them. Then, out of nowhere, I
hear Peeta say my name. ‘Har du tillbringat hela dagen med Kat?’ she says. I can tell from her voice that she’s angry. Immediately, I translate her words: You spent the whole day with Kat?

  I’m frozen to the spot. For a moment, Leo doesn’t say anything, then he puts his arm round her. She shrugs him off. ‘Was it fun?’ Peeta asks.

  He doesn’t reply, so she nudges him and asks him again. He sighs and says, ‘Det betydde ingenting, hen.’ It meant nothing. Then he tells Peeta that I screamed whenever a drop of water touched me and that all I cared about was getting a tan. I feel cold and sick, but I can’t move. I stand and listen, my hand resting on the papery bark of a tree.

  Peeta laughs. ‘Hon är blåst!’ she says. She’s an airhead. Dumb.

  And Leo says nothing. He just puts his arm back round Peeta and pulls her to him. I wait and I watch, but he leaves those words hanging in the air. He might as well have said them himself. In a second, everything that’s happened over the past week – moon-bathing, kayaking to Vilda, even watching birds in the juniper tree – disappears on the sea breeze and becomes nothing. Behind me, the laughter and music fade away and the ache inside me burns and turns into something else.

  How dare he?

  Without thinking, I march forward. ‘Hej!’ I shout. They spin round. Peeta puts her hand over her mouth, but it doesn’t hide her smile. Leo looks horrified. Quickly, he pulls his arm away from Peeta. ‘I just came to let you both know I’ve changed my mind.’ I see my hands are shaking, so I cross my arms.

  ‘About what?’ Peeta asks.

  ‘Tuff Troll. I am going to enter. One of my friends is coming over – she’s pretty fit, actually – she’s coming to stay and we’re going to compete. I just wanted to let you know and say …’

  ‘Yes?’ says Peeta gently, like she’s talking to child.

  But I ignore her and look at Leo. ‘That I do have someone.’ Then I spin round and walk away.

  ‘Kat!’ Leo calls, but I don’t hang around to hear what he has to say. A huge childish sob is rising up inside me. I have to get into the forest. I don’t want Leo to ever know that he made me cry. I don’t want Leo to ever know that he ever made me feel anything.