by Natalie Ward
I swallow, all of the butterflies speeding up at the way he’s looking at me. “Of course not,” I say smiling as I walk towards him.
Ben and I set off towards the park, walking in a comfortable silence. Paws trots along in front of us, sniffing at whatever random things he decides are worth smelling. It’s a beautiful spring day, the sun is shining and I’m bathed in a warmth that I haven’t felt in a long time. Beside me, Ben walks with his hands in his pockets, his arm occasionally brushing mine, sending shivers all through me every time it does.
It’s all still here, these feelings I have whenever I’m around him. It never stops. If anything, it’s only getting stronger now. I wonder if he feels it too. I wonder why he hasn’t asked me that question again.
“Remember when I rescued your cat?” Ben suddenly says, glancing down at me with a smile on his face.
I do remember because I remember everything now. I look up and meet his stare and my heart flips in my chest. “Yeah,” I say, smiling back at him. “My saviour.”
Ben laughs. “Mr Kitty’s saviour, actually,” he says, gently elbowing me. “Such a cute name,” he adds on and I know he’s teasing me. He loves to tease me.
I laugh, remembering the day I picked his name. I couldn’t decide what to call him and Mr Kitty had seemed like the simplest and most obvious choice. Paws, though, wasn’t chosen by me. That was just the name I found on his collar when I woke up in this life.
“I’m surprised Paws didn’t just get called Mr Dog or something, Evie,” Ben says, almost laughing at me now.
“Shut up,” I say, poking him in the ribs.
“Hey!” he says, his arm reaching out and wrapping around my shoulders, pulling me close to him.
My heart flips in my chest again.
I want to make some smartarse comment back to him, but I can’t because I’m suddenly unable to speak. Ben’s arm is a comfortable weight around me, holding me against him and he’s walking along as though this is all completely normal while I’m trying hard not to float away. How does he do this to me?
“I’m only teasing you, you know,” he eventually says, his fingers squeezing my shoulder and making me lose my breath.
I look up at him, just as he looks down at me. When our eyes meet, they lock, and in this single moment I feel like I’m somehow looking at my future. I see Ben’s blue eyes widen, ever so slightly. I watch as he licks his bottom lip, as though he’s contemplating something. I feel my breath catch as I wonder if he’s about to kiss me, a memory from seven years ago suddenly flashing before me. I watch as Ben moves ever so slightly closer to me, and I blink, thinking yes, he’s going to. My heart pounds in my chest, wanting him to more than anything.
Then suddenly, I’m jerked forward as Paws takes off, his unexpected movement pulling the leash from my hand.
“Shit,” I say, whatever it was between us broken as I turn to run after my dog, who has apparently seen a cat and decided to chase after it. “Paws!” I call out, running down the street. He’s racing after it and all I can see is a flash of ginger and the bundle of black and white that is Paws running after it. He crosses the street and I glance quickly in both directions, making sure there are no cars, before I chase after him. “Paws, come here!”
I can hear Ben laughing behind me and when I glance backwards, he’s jogging casually towards me, no urgency in his stride.
“A little help?” I ask now as I run into someone’s front yard, where Paws has the ginger cat barrelled up against the front door. “Paws!” I call to him, grabbing the end of the lead before he can take off again. Yanking on it, I drag my barking and jumping dog back towards the street.
When I turn around, Ben is standing at the front gate laughing his head off. I stomp towards him, my hand on his chest as I push him out of the way so I can get past. Ben moves to let me, but as I walk past him, I feel his hand grab mine. His grip is tight, his fingers holding on to me as though he’s not letting go.
I stop and turn back. Our arms are stretched between us, joined only by our hands. Ben’s face is alive with laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief and humour as he smiles at me.
“What?” I ask, pissed at Ben because he has just spent the whole time laughing at me, instead of helping me catch my damn dog.
“This,” is all he says, as he takes two steps towards me, threads the fingers of our joined hands together and kisses me.
If I thought the butterflies were bad before, they are nothing short of crazy right now. My heart is pounding in my chest, hammering away as though it’s trying to escape and I can’t tell if it’s from running after Paws, from Ben, or both. Paws is still barking at my feet, his eyes on the cat as he jumps up and down, trying to get away again.
But I’m not noticing any of it, because all I can feel are Ben’s lips, pressed against mine. They are soft and warm and they are kissing me like they mean business. I feel the tip of his tongue as it gently touches my lips and I open them instinctively, letting him in. Ben’s hand lets go of mine, sliding around my waist as he pulls me closer, his other hand sliding into my hair, to the back of my neck. Our bodies are pressed together and my hand reaches up and grabs the front of Ben’s t-shirt, holding him to me. Ben moans when my fingers tighten against his chest and the butterflies in my stomach are all trying to escape now.
Everything about Ben feels amazing. His lips against mine, his breath in my mouth, his arms wrapped around me. He’s pulling me in, just like he’s always done, but in a way that is so much better than before.
This is the Ben I want more of. This is the Ben I never want to let go of.
And all of this is the Ben who is so much better than I ever imagined him to be.
We finally pull apart, both of us breathing a little heavier. Ben’s eyes, when they gaze down at me, are sparkling with amusement and there’s the tiniest hint of a smile on the mouth I’ve just been kissing.
“What was that for?” I whisper.
“That, Evie Smith,” Ben says, his smile bigger now. “Was because I wanted to kiss you.”
I smile up at him, biting my lip as I ask. “And what if I didn’t want to kiss you?”
Ben laughs, sending shivers all through me. His fingers tighten around my waist. “Sure seemed like you wanted to kiss me,” he says, one eyebrow raised in suggestion.
I stare up at him wondering if I make it that obvious or if it’s just because we both want the same thing here. “Is that so?” I ask, subtly pushing up on my toes a little.
“It is,” Ben says confidently. “I’m pretty sure, not only did you want me to kiss you, Evie, but you wanted to kiss me too. Just as badly,” he says, the fingers of his other hand still holding the back of my neck. “I think you’ve been wanting me to kiss you again for a very long time.”
I laugh, half at his cockiness, half because he’s absolutely spot-on. It’s actually all I’ve been thinking about for days, weeks, months now. Ever since I remembered the kiss he gave me the day before my eighth birthday, all those years ago.
These days, I just can’t seem to stop thinking about Ben Foster at all.
“What do you think, Evie?” he whispers, his eyes still on mine. “Am I right?”
“I think, Ben,” I say as I tighten my grip on his t-shirt and pull him towards me, no longer afraid of showing him what I want. “That you are absolutely right.”
“Good answer, Evie,” he says.
And then I kiss him all over again.
We eventually make it to the park where I let Paws off his lead so Ben can throw the ball I’ve brought along for him. I stand beside him, close but not touching and we watch as Paws runs off to fetch the ball.
“You know this means you really are my girlfriend now, don’t you?” Ben suddenly says.
I glance up and see he’s still watching Paws, a smile on his face. “Does it?” I ask.
Ben leans down to get the ball off the ground that Paws has dropped at his feet. I watch him throw it again before he turns to look at me. “It
does.”
“You still want me to be your girlfriend?” I ask, wondering if he really does remember asking me that question five years ago.
Ben turns to face me now, his hand sliding to the back of my neck and pulling me into his warmth. I feel a shiver from the touch of his fingers, which runs all the way down my spine. “Didn’t I already ask you that question?” he whispers, his amazing blue eyes staring into mine as I realise he does.
“A long time ago,” I whisper.
Ben smiles. “Have you been waiting for me to ask you again, Evie?” I nod, making Ben laugh. “So why didn’t you just ask me?” he asks, his thumb brushing against my skin. “You could’ve asked me, you know.”
I feel like I’ve lost my voice, that I can’t possibly get any words out when Ben is holding me like this, staring at me like he is. I shrug in response.
Ben smiles again, tilting his head as he says, “You can ask me anything, Evie, tell me anything. You know that, right?”
I nod at his words, knowing they are true, especially when he already knows my biggest secret. “Yeah,” I whisper, the word floating between us. “I know I can.”
“So, how about it then,” he continues, his adorable smile tugging at his mouth. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
I swallow, wondering how I can possibly say anything other than the truth. I do want to be his girlfriend; I’ve always wanted to be his girlfriend. “Ben…” I whisper, my voice trailing off.
“What,” he murmurs, his blue eyes holding me in their gaze. He doesn’t understand, doesn’t realise that I’ve already answered him; that I told him the night I disappeared when he first asked me.
“I answered you that night, you know,” I tell him.
“I didn’t see it,” Ben says, taking another step closer so we are almost touching. “What was your answer, Evie?”
I nod, staring up at him. “Yes. My answer was yes, Ben.”
He smiles at me now, leaning in to press another kiss to my lips. I want to kiss him, but there’s something else I need to clear up first. Something important. I pull back a little and Ben stops.
“What?” he says. “What’s wrong?”
I take a deep breath. “Next year,” I say quietly. “It’s a leap year.” I don’t say anymore, wondering if he’ll realise what I mean.
“You think it’s going to happen again?” he asks, his fingers gently brushing against the skin on the back of my neck. It sends another round of shivers racing down my spine. I nod, unable to get any words out. I don’t care about the leap year anymore; I only care about the now, about Ben touching me like he is. About Ben kissing me again.
Ben smiles as he reads my mind and leans in to kiss me, his lips barely touching mine as he whispers, “Then if it does, I’ll just wait for you, Evie Smith. I’ll wait for you to find me again.”
“You will?” I breathe out.
“I will. And when you do, you’ll still be my girlfriend.”
“I will,” I breathe out, the words lost between us now as he stares down at me.
I want to ask him if this is real, if what we’re feeling is real, if his words are real. If he can possibly be real. But I can’t, and then my body is melting into his as Ben’s other arm wraps around my waist and pulls me against him. My hands hold onto the front of his shirt, never wanting to let him go.
I feel like I’ve finally found something to hang on to.
28th February 1992
Fifteen years old
“Think it’s going to happen?” Ben asks, his hand sliding into mine.
I look up at him sitting beside me on his bed. I’m not supposed to be here, but of course I have to be. How could I be anywhere else tonight?
I nod, my fingers tightening in his as I say, “Yeah, I do.”
“Can you feel it?” he asks, sliding closer to me.
I look down at our joined hands, now resting on Ben’s thigh, which is pressed against mine. Neither of our parents knows I am here. I snuck out about thirty minutes ago when Ben came over and threw rocks at my window again. He told me he didn’t want to miss his last chance to see me tonight. He wanted to be with me when it happened this time, that maybe we could somehow stop it if he was.
“Maybe if you have something to hang on to, you won’t go,” he’d said, grabbing hold of my hand.
It had almost made me cry.
If only he knew that he is the one thing I try desperately to hang on to every time this happens. That for as long as I can remember, it’s Ben, the thought of Ben and me, that’s been trying to keep me here. Even if neither of us realised it at the time, I certainly do now.
I’m starting to understand how this all works. Now, the feeling of emptiness, the connection to Ben and the sense that I’m about to lose something important to me, now it all makes sense. He is what I’m trying to hang on to. He always has been.
“Evie?” Ben asks and I realise I haven’t answered his question.
I look up and find him watching me, a look of concern on his face as he tries to work out what I’m thinking. “I can feel it,” I eventually say, taking a deep breath. “I know it’s coming.”
Ben leans back against the wall and puts his arm around my shoulder as he pulls me back against him. “Tell me what it feels like,” he says.
I lean my head on his shoulder, the warm weight of his arm around me only intensifying the very thing I’m trying to describe to him. “Heavy,” is the first word I can come up with. “It feels like a heavy ache, all throughout my body,” I say, glancing up at him.
Ben looks down at me, leans in to kiss the end of my nose. “Heavy like you can’t move?” he asks.
I shake my head, still staring up at him. “Heavy like a blanket of sadness,” I say. “A sadness that only seems to get heavier and heavier with every minute closer to midnight.”
“Oh,” is all Ben says.
“There’s something else too,” I add on, knowing I can say this to him now. When I first recognised it, I didn’t know what it meant, but now, with everything that’s happened between us, it’s so much clearer.
“What?”
I take a deep breath. “Longing,” I say. “An intense longing, as though I’m about to lose something that’s very important to me. It’s what makes the sadness I think, and it all just gets stronger and stronger the closer I get.”
Ben’s fingers tighten at my shoulder as he says, “What are you about to lose, do you think? I mean apart from this life, I guess.”
I shake my head, my eyes on my fingers now, which are tracing random patterns into the jeans on Ben’s thigh. “It’s not that,” I tell him. “I know what it is I’m losing.”
“What?” Ben asks.
I stare at my fingers, as I whisper, “You.”
“What?” Ben repeats, his fingers sliding under my chin and tilting my face up so I’m looking at him. “Evie, what did you say?”
I take a deep breath. “You, Ben. I know that I’m losing you,” I tell him, staring up into deep blue eyes that I wish I could remember when I wake up tomorrow. “This feeling doesn’t just get heavier and more intense at midnight. It gets stronger and stronger whenever I’m with you. It’s you that I don’t want to lose, Ben. You.”
“Evie,” Ben murmurs before brushing his lips softly against mine. “You won’t lose me, baby.”
It’s the first time Ben has ever called me that and it makes my heart ache even more. “But I will,” I whisper against his lips. “I’ll wake up tomorrow and I won’t remember you and I will have lost you.”
Ben pulls back and I open my eyes, watch as he tucks my hair behind my ears. “I’ll be here waiting for you,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. “You just have to come find me, Evie.”
I smile sadly up at him as the beep of my watch starts, letting us both know that it’s time. “I will,” I whisper, leaning up to kiss him one more time. “I promise I will.”
And then I blink and when I open my eyes, he’s gone.
29th February
1992
Sixteen years old
The sun shines into my room and today I turn sixteen years old.
Before I even open my eyes, I feel it. An overwhelming sense of sadness and loss, a feeling of missing something. It’s something that feels very important to me, but I can’t make any more sense of it. I can’t explain why I’m feeling like this, only that I am.
Then I hear yelling and my eyes open and I immediately know, all these feelings, this room I’m in, something is different, wrong. This isn’t where I fell asleep last night, I’m sure of it. And I know I’m not in a good place right now.
This is the first time I’ve woken up feeling afraid.
The screaming gets louder, a man and a woman’s voice and it’s hard to tell who’s winning this argument. All I know is they are getting closer and closer to my room and I’m not entirely sure I want to find out what happens when they reach it.
Suddenly the bedroom door flies open, hitting the wall and bouncing off it. I notice a dent in the plaster and wonder how many times this has happened to make that mark.
“Still in bed, are you?” a woman who I assume is my mother, yells at me.
I don’t say anything, wondering what the right answer could possibly be. She looks crazy. Her hair is greasy and stringy, her eyes bloodshot and she’s holding a beer bottle in one hand. I glance at the clock and see it’s eight-fifteen in the morning.
The next thing I know, I’m being yanked out of bed. This woman’s hand is wrapped around my arm, her fingers digging in as she drags me on to the floor.
“Get up you lazy cow,” she yells at me, her hand shaking so much some of her beer sloshes out of the bottle and all over me.
I scramble away from her, pulling my arm from her grasp as I back up against the bed. She’s standing over me, staring down at me with glazed over eyes that have me wondering if alcohol isn’t the chaser to something else running through her system.
From the corner of my eye I see a man now standing in my doorway, his enormous body filling in my only means of escape. Fear curls in my stomach as he walks towards us both and I’m standing up, wondering if I can possibly get past him and out the door before he does anything. Without a single word or any kind of warning, this man, who I’m guessing is either her pimp, my father, or both, smacks the woman across the face, sending her flying onto my bed. I flinch as her head hits the wall and it’s only when she groans that I exhale, grateful she’s still conscious. Turning to me, he grabs me around the upper arm, right where she was just holding me. His fingers twist and dig in, causing me to cry out in pain as he leers at me, his breath reeking of alcohol.