SUN KISSED

by Jenny McLachlan

  I hate him, I think, as I brush away my tears. I don’t like Peeta, but I hate Leo. How could I have got him so wrong? Somehow, I have to get one of my friends out here. With Betty or Bea by my side, I can hold my head high, enter the race and prove that I’m not someone he can laugh at.

  Because I’m not an airhead – I’m strong.

  I was strong enough to jump off a cliff when my legs were shaking, strong enough to come to this island in the middle of nowhere without my family and I’m definitely strong enough to enter their stupid troll race.

  TWELVE

  The next morning, I write a letter to my friends.

  Dear Beatty

  I need one of you to come to Sweden. Now.

  I’m serious.

  I got Leo all wrong. He forgot to mention he has a girlfriend, Peeta, and she turned up on the island today. I can’t even begin to describe how I feel about Leo right now. A lot of things happened tonight and somehow I announced that one of my amazing friends was going to come over to Sweden and enter Tuff Troll with me. This was a lie, but I desperately need it to be true.

  Who wants to be a Tuff Troll? Betty does … Bea does!

  Please, please, please, please. My auntie says it’s cool for one of you to come over here (or even both of you!?) and you won’t have to pay for the travel because Mum and Dad will. You know what fitness freaks they are. Me entering Tuff Troll will be a dream come true for them. Here’s what you need to do:

  Fly to Stockholm airport

  Get the shuttle train to the city

  Walk to the harbour (follow the signs)

  Get 3 p.m. boat to Stråla (the red one)

  Simples! In three days, I’ll go to the dock every day to see if one of you is on the boat. Which you definitely will be. I’m putting Mum’s credit card details at the bottom of the letter. I’m pretty sure this is breaking some law. Her security code is our phone number and her memorable word is Britta (natch). Please don’t go on a spending spree with this card!!!

  I know this seems mad, but it would be madly wonderful if one of you could come here and race with me.

  Fingers, legs and toes crossed,

  Kat xxxxxx

  I add the credit card details then put the letter in an envelope. I address it to Bea just in case Betty’s already gone camping. I’m just about to seal the envelope when I have an idea. I take the letter out and get another piece of paper. I copy it out, almost word for word, but this time I write Pearl’s name at the top.

  Pearl smokes like a chimney and I’m not even sure she can swim, but surely she’s better than no one? I am a bit anxious about giving her Mum’s card details, but before I know it, I’ve added them and I’m sealing the envelopes.

  I find Frida in the kitchen staring into a swirling cup of coffee. She looks up with a huge smile. If it’s actually possible, Beardy-beady has made Frida even happier than she was before. ‘Where are you going?’ she asks.

  ‘For a run,’ I say. ‘I need to get fit if I’m going to enter Tuff Troll.’

  ‘You’re serious about that?’ Frida’s smile vanishes. Last night, when I got in, I asked her if a friend could come and stay, and then I told her that Leo’s girlfriend had turned up. I didn’t say anything else, I didn’t need to. My red eyes told her everything. She tried to get me to talk, but I told her I was tired and went straight to bed.

  Frida puts down her coffee cup and comes over to me. ‘You don’t need to prove anything, Kat.’

  ‘I am going to enter the race, Frida.’

  ‘Look … who cares if Leo’s got a girlfriend?’

  ‘It’s not about that.’ I bend down and tighten my laces.

  Frida sighs. ‘And you really think one of your friends will be allowed to come here on their own?’ She puts her hand on my shoulder. ‘Because it’s a long way to come to help a friend out.’

  I look at the letters. ‘They’re good friends. The best,’ I say. ‘One of them will come.’ I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince.

  ‘Well, great!’ She gives me a hopeful smile. ‘Well done for going running and … everything. You look very spotty.’

  ‘Sporty?’

  ‘No, spotty. I like your crazy shorts.’ I don’t have the right gear, but I’ve got trainers and shorts. What else do I need? Admittedly, my trainers are pastel pink and have never been used for any type of training, and my shorts are the red spotty ones I wear to bed, more boxers really. OK, they are boxers. A pair of Dad’s that shrunk in the wash, but from a distance they look like shorts.

  ‘I’m going to run to the shop, post my letters, then run back round the island.’

  ‘Take care. And don’t push yourself too hard.’

  ‘I’m only going for a run, Frida,’ I say as I jog out. ‘How hard can it be?’

  Hard! Very, very hard and horrible and pukey and hurty.

  At first, I think running is great. I bounce into the woods and along the path. Why don’t I always run? It’s quicker than walking and I feel like I’m a kick-ass heroine in an action film. Filled with energy, I jump over logs and leap round roots. Then, after about four minutes, I get a stitch and soon every step I take sends a dart of pain into my waist. Action heroes don’t say, ‘Ow, ow, ow,’ as they run, and they don’t want to puke, do they? Sweat drips off my forehead and my heart thunders in my chest. I slow down but it still hurts, so I slow down a bit more. If anything, the pain increases.

  Out of nowhere, an old lady overtakes me. She’s walking. ‘Hej!’ she calls as she disappears round the bend. I glance down at my feet. Those are walking feet. I’m not even running! What’s the matter with me? I can dance; why can’t I run?

  I limp the rest of the way to the shop and post my letters. Then I stand outside the shop looking left and then right. I could just give up for the day, or I could carry on ‘running’ round the island. The problem is, my entire body is shouting: Go home, Kat, lie down, DON’T EVER RUN AGAIN!

  Then I see Peeta and Leo.

  They’re sitting in the cafe. Peeta’s sipping a cup of coffee and Leo’s reading a book. Peeta sees me and smiles. But it’s not a ‘Hey there!’ smile. It’s an ‘Oh dear. Look what it’s doing now!’ smile. It hits me like a slap in the face. Then Leo glances up. When he sees me, he pushes his chair back.

  Immediately, I lift my head up high and start to run. And I mean run. Like a dog is chasing me. Now my entire body is shouting: You can do it, Kat. Ignore the pain and embrace the burn! My stitch has gone, but it’s still agony. Somehow pride keeps me going.

  I run through the campsite and along the coastal path. As I pass Otto’s rental place, he looks up from the kayak he’s sanding down. ‘Chin up!’ he shouts.

  ‘What?’ I turn to look at him and stumble over a root.

  ‘Look forward!’ he yells, and within moments he’s alongside me, a streak of yellow and blue in his mustard running shorts and ‘Ö Till Ö’ T-shirt. ‘Keep your shoulders still and run tall.’ He actually pulls my shoulders back. ‘Don’t slouch, Kat.’

  ‘You sound like my dad,’ I gasp.

  ‘Stop talking and get in the zone.’

  ‘I don’t have a zone … Unless my zone is a wanting-to-puke zone.’

  ‘Breathe through your mouth and slow it down. Breathe deep, right to your stomach. Get that oxygen into your body.’ I do what he says. I sound like Darth Vader having an asthma attack. Gradually, the nausea fades. ‘Breathe in, two, three, four, release, two, three, four,’ Otto says, repeating this again and again, until my breathing matches his words.

  We pass a few campers, and then the posh cabins on the south of the island. At one point, we run next to the sea and I see Nanna and Sören swimming side by side, their identical heads bobbing up and down. Nanna spots me. ‘Go Kat!’ she yells. ‘Work her lazy ass, Otto!’

  ‘Idiot,’ he mutters, then he abandons me and starts to boss the twins around instead. ‘Face down, arms close to your ears. You two look like twin fools! What’re you doing?’

  My feet plod
on automatically. Breathe, two, three, four, release, two, three, four. Sweat trickles down my back and my cheeks are on fire. Suddenly, I’m back at our cabin. How did I get here? Wow … I actually found the zone! I slow down, feeling hugely pleased with myself, but then a voice calls out, ‘Pick up those lazy legs, pull back your shoulders and breathe!’

  Otto appears by my side, blocking my escape route. Amazingly, I start doing another circuit of the island. My feet are obeying Otto and not me, their owner! ‘Now,’ Otto says, ‘let’s stretch it out.’ He speeds up, and I speed up too. Are we racing? Yes! I’m racing an old man and he is so beating me. As we get closer to the cafe my heart starts to beat even faster, but I don’t stop running. Leo and Peeta aren’t going to make me stop doing anything.

  Otto bursts into the mötesplats ahead of me, then pauses, waiting for me to catch up. I follow him, eyes flicking from the cafe to the shop, but Leo and Peeta are nowhere to be seen. My heart slows, but only fractionally. We jog on together all the way back to his hut.

  ‘Now, walk for two minutes,’ he says, ‘then run for two. Keep that up all the way back to your cabin. That’s your training for today.’ He peels away from me, picks up his sandpaper and gets back to work. He isn’t even out of breath.

  Huh. Otto’s training me. How did that happen? Obediently, I start to walk. ‘Chin up!’ Otto’s voice follows me through the trees. ‘And stand tall, girl, don’t slouch!’ He can’t even see me … but I was slouching.

  *

  My warm-down is collapsing on to a mattress that Frida’s dragged outside for sunbathing purposes. Blood roars in my ears and my heart pounds like it’s trying to escape. ‘Maybe I’ll just put a towel under you,’ says Frida.

  Oh, and I’m sweating. A lot. I roll on my side, then roll back on to the towel she’s spread out. ‘Think … I might … die,’ I whisper.

  ‘Here.’ She passes me a bottle of water. I lift my head up just enough to slurp some down. ‘Your chakra is glowing,’ she says. Then she laughs. ‘You’re actually purple, Kat. How do you feel?’

  I stare at the sky. Clouds race past and whispering branches sway in the wind. I feel desperately hurt by what Leo said and did, and painfully jealous of Peeta. But I feel something else too. The sky spins slightly and my blood roars through my body. ‘Alive,’ I say.

  THIRTEEN

  Over the next few days, my life falls into a routine of running with Nanna, swimming to and from Reception Rock and avoiding Leo and Peeta. I actually incorporate this into my fitness regime. If I see one of them, I sprint off into the woods, trying to get as far away from them as possible. Everything aches: my muscles and my heart. My muscles feel better each morning, but the ache in my chest just won’t go away.

  The mötesplats is the real Leo/Peeta danger zone and I avoid it as much as possible, but soon my monstrous addiction to cinnamon buns forces me to risk a trip to Juni’s shop.

  The delicious smell of cinnamon, sugar and butter tells me that she’s just made a new batch and soon I’m leaving the shop, my nose buried in a paper bag.

  A sigh makes me look up. Peeta’s standing waiting to get past me, hands on her hips. For a second we look at each other, then she says, ‘You’ve got sugar on your nose.’ Quickly, I brush it off. Peeta doesn’t look quite as amazeboobs as she did when she arrived. She looks tired and her hair is scraped back with a hairband. She glances over her shoulder and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

  ‘Are you going in?’ I ask, holding the door open.

  She nods. ‘I need an energy drink. Leo and I just kayaked to Fejan. We took a camping stove and he made me pancakes.’ She watches me closely. I don’t say a word. I know what she thinks about me. I’m not about to have a friendly chat with her. ‘I see you’ve been running.’ Peeta looks at my candy-pink trainers and smiles.

  I manage a nod.

  ‘OK … well, see you around!’ Peeta walks into the shop, saying ‘Hej, Juni,’ like they are best friends. I let the door slam shut behind her.

  I breathe deeply and stare at my bag. Peeta’s made me feel sick. I can’t go back to the cabin yet – I need to calm down. I decide to take a walk round the island.

  As I pass Otto’s cabin, he pops up from behind a stack of kayaks and calls out, ‘Help me with this, Kat.’ He’s not the sort of person you argue with, so I go over. He holds out a bucket and sponge. With a sigh, I put down the bag with my cinnamon bun in it and take the frothy bucket.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Help Leo clean the roof of my cabin. It’s covered in pigeon poop.’

  What? I look up, and there, sitting on the tin roof of Otto’s hut, is Leo. He shades his eyes against the sun and raises one hand, but he doesn’t smile. I look at my bucket. I look at Otto and he nods towards the ladder resting against the roof. ‘What are you waiting for?’ he growls.

  With a sinking heart, I climb up the ladder and sit on the sloping roof. Leo is opposite me. I know he’s looking at me, but I ignore him and plunge the sponge in the bucket and start to aggressively scrub the roof. Why does pigeon poo need to be cleaned off a roof anyway?

  After a few minutes of awkward poo clearance, Leo clears his throat. ‘Kat, I need to talk to you,’ he says quietly. Otto is just a few metres away, rearranging his kayaks.

  ‘Well, I don’t want to talk to you,’ I say.

  ‘No. I had noticed. You keep running away. I don’t know what you heard the other night –’

  ‘I heard everything,’ I say, finally looking up at him.

  ‘I just need to say one thing.’

  I drop the sponge in the bucket. ‘Go on, then. What’s the one thing you want to say?’

  ‘I didn’t know Peeta was going to turn up like that and I didn’t know you were standing behind me when I said …’ He drops his voice. Otto is somewhere below us banging kayaks around and whistling.

  ‘Have you forgotten what you said?’ I ask. Now it’s Leo who is looking away. ‘How being with me meant nothing to you?’

  ‘No.’ He shakes his head.

  ‘So is that it? Have you said your one thing?’

  He sighs. ‘It’s complicated, Kat.’

  ‘No. It’s simple. You spent five days with me, on our own, and never once mentioned that you had a girlfriend.’ My heart is pounding and nothing can stop the words from pouring out of me. ‘You know what? Who cares? I’m not that disappointed, Leo.’ Now I’m lying, I can’t stop. I enjoy seeing the confusion on his face. ‘It didn’t mean much to me either. We’ve got nothing in common. We just spent a few boring days together so forget about it … I have.’

  ‘That’s what you think?’ His face looks dark, cold.

  For a moment, I don’t speak. He looks so different from the boy I held hands with on Vilda. ‘Yes. That’s exactly what I think,’ I say. Neither of us are bothering to keep our voices down now and I notice that Otto has stopped whistling.

  ‘OK. I won’t bore you for another minute.’

  ‘Good!’ I shout, and then I do something that seems like a brilliant idea for about two seconds: I throw my bucket of dirty water at him.

  The bucket empties over Leo, the roof and me, then crashes to the ground.

  He stares down at his soaked T-shirt, and then, without looking at me, throws his own bucket to the ground, jumps off the roof and walks away into the woods. Otto watches him go, then looks up at me, his face baffled … and a bit wet.

  Suddenly, all the pleasure I got from saying those things to Leo and throwing the bucket at him vanishes and the ache comes back, only this time it’s worse than ever. I need to be back in my attic room, right now. I scramble down the ladder. Otto is inspecting his bucket. ‘Sorry,’ I mutter, but that’s all I can say without crying. Then I grab my paper bag from where I dropped it and run into the woods, making sure I go in the opposite direction to Leo.

  I breathe deeply, trying to control the tears that are threatening to spill over at any moment. Today is Wednesday. Tonight I will go to the dock an
d one of my friends will be on the boat and then everything will be OK … everything will be OK. I tell myself this again and again, then I rip open the paper bag. Being sad makes me extremely hungry.

  I pull out a squashed bun – Leo trod on my cinnamon bun!

  Now nothing can stop the tears.

  When I get in, I let myself get very low. First, I lie flat on my face on my mattress. I do this for an hour. Next I try to cheer myself up by reading Grazia, but handbags and colour-pop coats seem to have lost their magic. I drop the magazine in the recycling. Frida can use it to light the stove.

  A run with Nanna eventually picks me up and when I go to the dock to wait for the last boat from Stockholm, I’m actually smiling at strangers. I watch passengers pour off the boat and drift into the forest. Eventually, the boat is empty and it’s just me left on the jetty. My smile disappears. Deep down, I suppose I knew my friends wouldn’t be allowed to come here, but that didn’t stop me from imagining how amazing it would be to see one of them standing on the boat, jumping up and down and calling out my name.

  I walk slowly back to the cabin, going the long way along the path that hugs the edge of the island. The sea is washed pink by the evening light and totally still. I go past Reception Rock and even though I’ve not got my phone I suddenly want to swim out to it. When I sit on that rock, I feel closer to my friends and home. I kick off my sandals and pull my dress over my head. I’m always wearing my bikini these days.

  I tread over the rocks and slip into the glowing sea. After a few strokes, I dive down and my whole body is wrapped in cool, silky water. The shock feels good. I roll over and float on my back, kicking myself further out to sea and towards the rock and letting the last of the evening sun warm my face.

  Soon, I’m climbing up on to the rock, then I sit hugging my knees and stare at the horizon. The more I try to find the exact point where the sea meets the sky, the further away it seems to get. A splash makes me look up. I see a figure in a kayak coming towards me. For a second, my heart speeds up and I actually consider jumping into the sea, but then I see that the figure is wearing a polyester tracksuit and a blue cap: Otto.