In Memory

Home > Other > In Memory > Page 33
In Memory Page 33

by CJ Lyons

“Hey, beautiful. You fell asleep.”

  Noah sat up, rubbing the water from his face. He grinned, and kissed me, pulling me into the shower enough to completely soak my hair.

  “Gah!” I exclaimed, bringing my hand up to shield my face from the water.

  He smirked mischievously, and kissed me again, this time pulling me even farther into the tub. And this time, I didn’t resist him, completely under his command.

  I don’t think I’ve ever had a hotter shower.

  We even helped each other towel off. He took great care with drying my hair. I’ve never been so comfortable in my own skin than when I’m in his company. He must feel that way too.

  I made waffles for breakfast, and ended up making way too many. I was sort of expecting Terra home.

  Terra did come home after we had just sat down to watch telly, and made a beeline for the kitchen, where the coffeepot was happily purring. (purr-colating?) She gave us an odd look, followed by a kind of knowing smile as she sat down.

  Mostly, I figured she already anticipated the fact that we did it last night, and our physical proximity on the couch was only confirmation.

  I did have a dream about Tobias last night too. It was a sort of half-awake type dream, so I don’t remember it as clearly as other dreams.

  In the middle of the night, I woke to see him sitting on the side of the bed, just staring off into the room.

  “Tobias?”

  He glanced at me when I said his name, and then looked away. “It’s cold.”

  I smacked my lips together, and reached for his shoulder, to see how cold he was. And then he was gone.

  I wonder if I was just hallucinating or something.

  Weird.

  I also noticed the extent of my like for Noah’s hair today. As we were watching telly I kept twirling it and stroking it, marvelling at the shortness. I guess when you’ve had long hair forever, the feeling of short hair is really cool.

  Without debate or question, we are going to sleep in the same bed tonight. My bed, in the middle of our everything.

  11 Days, 16 February, Monday

  Well that’s a terrifying notion as well. It hadn’t occurred to me that I’ll eventually be able to count the days left on my hands.

  Odd.

  It’s not a pleasant thought, no matter how I look at it.

  School today was relatively peaceful, except for the silence that Noah adopted midway through the day. I guess the memory of last week is getting to him. Exactly one week ago…

  Most of the Bullies are away at some sporting event that we’re apparently supposed to care about.

  Whatever. I’m just glad that they’re not here to antagonize us.

  Interestingly enough, one of them didn’t go to the [insert sport here] event, and came and talked to us at Lunch.

  Julia almost clocked him before he explained why he was here.

  His name was Zack, and he was on the sports team. His skin is beautifully dark, and he’s got deep chocolate brown eyes. In retrospect, he almost seemed like an exact physical opposite to Noah. Just an observation.

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry to you.”

  I vaguely recognized him as the quieter one in the group, the same one who would always look away when the Bullies would make rude comments.

  Instantly, I smiled, and invited him to sit down at our table. I dunno, I always feel like if someone wants to say something important, we should be eye to eye.

  Noah stared at him critically, not even blinking. The power behind his stare is almost frightening, even to me. I can’t imagine being on the receiving end. Julia sat back, and surveyed us both, with her lips pursed in obvious annoyance. Ariel smiled at Zack as he sat down, and he bit his lip, avoiding her gaze.

  “So,” I leaned forward, “What did you want to say sorry for?”

  “My… friends. They have done horrible things to you.” Zack addressed Noah now, feebly holding his icy blue gaze. “And I wanted to say I’m sorry. They’re horrible, and I know me apologizing won’t do much, but at least you know that I’m not with them.”

  “Is that why you’re not with them on the trip?” I asked.

  “Yeah… I faked sick. I just didn’t want to listen to them talk about you guys like that anymore. You seem like nice guys, and girls,” Zack inclined his head to Julia and Ariel, “So I decided that they really aren’t the company I want to keep.”

  Nervously, Zack looked at Noah, who was still shooting daggers with his eyes. “S-so, would you have me?”

  We all looked at Noah, because honestly, all things considered, it was his call right now.

  “You are honourable.” Noah said, his expression lightening. “We will have you.”

  Upon hearing that, I grinned broadly, and dug a container of cupcakes out of my backpack and plopped them on the table. “There, now, I made these last night. Everyone gets one!”

  Zack smiled, and gratefully received one from me.

  Julia still didn’t seem 100% convinced of Zack’s virtuosity, but Noah’s acceptance of him seemed to calm her. And Ariel’s not the type to hate people under any circumstance, so she was happy to have another friend at our table.

  It’s great. It’s hard to believe we have another friend.

  Although, it’s disturbing to me as well, because… well… This means that there’s going to be another person who’s going to be sad when I die.

  But these friends aren’t for me so much as they are for Noah. It is my deepest wish that they will help him when I’m gone.

  I wonder about the people who’ll attend my funeral. Assuming of course, that I’m going to have a service, since I want to be cremated. I hate the idea of my body crumbling in the dirt, and my skeleton. Frankly the idea of my bones in a box somewhere freaks me out. It would be much better to take to the skies, and sink into the ocean and earth as a fine powder, a phantom of a body.

  To fly in the wind, as is my namesake. Guess I never really thought about that. Terra and I are named after the Earth and the Air, respectively. It’s kind of cool. Mum and Dad both had Water and Fire names, respectively.

  We’re a hippie family, I guess.

  10 Days, 17 February, Tuesday

  Stared at my hands for twenty minutes this morning. Exactly. I glanced at the clock every now and then.

  It’s hard to believe that I can count down now. Ten days left. It sort of hurt to see those days laid out before me, I could touch them now, feel them in my hands.

  I’ve decided, if nothing else, that the finger that represented my very last day, the 27th, was the ring finger on my right hand, which is where I held the promise. His ring is on that finger, and I just know… he’s going to be the last thing I see.

  Curiosity towards the after consumed me today as well. Is there heaven? Hell? Some other in between place? I’ve never really considered the events of after until now. There must be something. All this business with fate and destiny and true love seem like way too big of concepts for this one tiny life. There has to be more time.

  Last night was kind of funny too, actually. Had a dream about being in Noah’s house. Or what I assumed to be his house, actually. I was in his bedroom, (again, an assumption) which was almost free of any sort of personal touch.

  I was just standing beside the bed, which had a navy blue blanket on it, and beside it was a small table with a lamp. It was a completely normal looking bedroom. It was weird, when I compare it to the interesting stuff in his bedroom at our home.

  Not to mention, this bedroom is dark, which is something I know he hates.

  Then I noticed that Noah was lying in his bed, I swear he just appeared there out of nowhere. He was staring up at the ceiling, with his hands clasped together on his chest.

  Vaguely wondered if this is how he spent a majority of his time when he was at home.

  I looked down at him, and caught his eye, staring deep, reading between the lines of his iris to find what his soul meant to say.

  I love you, I love you, I trust you
.

  His absolute trust for me always staggers me; I hesitated a few seconds before leaning in to kiss his lips lightly.

  He responded nervously as he sat up, as if he still wasn’t sure what he was doing. His hand trailed up my arm, resting on my shoulder before moving across my chest and fiddling with the buttons of my shirt.

  Gently, I laid him back on the bed, holding his head in my hands as I deepened the kiss. The blankets rustled as he shuffled in his bed, making more space to accommodate me. I trailed tiny kisses down his sharp jawline, moving down his neck, my lips marking the path with tiny butterflies.

  He leaned into my touches, pulling me closer. I could feel his excitement in his neck, pounding out his heartbeat.

  “Aerie,” he whispered, between soft breaths, “I love you, I trust you.”

  I smiled as I placed another kiss on his collarbone, my hand twitching on the buttons of his shirt. He mimicked me, circling a button of my shirt with his index finger.

  Slowly I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing equally white skin underneath. He was almost sickly pale, contrasting vividly with the flushed rose of his cheeks and lips. He bit his bottom lip as I examined his pale thin torso, as if waiting for a sign of approval.

  I smiled at him again, and began unbuttoning my own shirt, letting my tie fall to the floor.

  Tentatively, he reached out and touched my bare skin, running his fingers over the smooth undamaged surface almost longingly.

  I did the same with him, tracing over every scar, every lingering bruise, hoping my touch could do something to alleviate the pain. My hand ventured lower, feeling the smooth indent of his navel, down to the supple soft skin of his lower stomach, and was abruptly stopped by the waistband of his pants.

  I looked to him for permission, my hand hot with anticipation. He nodded, pulling me in for a deeper kiss; I let my hand slip under the waistband of his pants, feeling the jutting outline of his bony hip under may hand. Leaning more heavily into his, and pushing his further into the pillows, I changed position, grinding my hips into his. He licked my lips, running his hands over my skin, up my collarbone, and into my hair.

  The emotions of us both exploded in my mind, each touch lighting a burst of sparks that jolted through my entire body. Happiness, I can feel it, he’s happy.

  I grinned, looking in his eyes, for what seemed like the first time. The pale icy blue had brightened, turning into a more clear sky blue, sparkling with inherent happiness.

  “Noah… Noah, I love you.” I whispered, clearing a few flyway strands from his face with my available hand.

  “I love you too, Aerie, always and forever.”

  I slid my hand further down his pants-

  There was knock at the door, followed by a terrifying rotating of the doorknob. We froze, our eyes turned towards the door.

  The door swung open a little, and May stepped in.

  “Big brother?” she paused, studying the way we were positioned, “Father is going to be home soon.” She turned to me, “So you should probably get your hand out of my brother’s pants.”

  She looked at Noah once again, inclined her head, and stepped back out, closing the door with and audible click.

  I was so embarrassed. Even if that was just a dream.

  Also, the idea of his father coming back home… It’s weird. Makes me think that maybe this dream was supposed to take place a while ago. Of course, I’ve never been in his bedroom either. Maybe that’s why he had such an issue with entering my room.

  School today was largely normal, we had fun in French, exploded something in Chemistry, dissected something in Biology, and drew what we dissected in Art. I’m kidding about Art, but it seemed like such a good way to end that sentence.

  We spent a lot of time with Zack today, as he moved his seat to be directly next to me. I have a feeling Noah is still a little uncomfortable, so I asked him about it in Art.

  “Did Zack ever do anything to you?”

  “No, he hasn’t. He was present when they attacked me though.”

  “What? What did he do?”

  “He behaved honourably, and requested they stop. He was rather vehement about the issue, I remember hearing him yelling at them until he gave up and left. I wish he would have been able to stop them. I believe that attack was the reason he decided to abandon them as suitable friends.”

  “That makes sense I guess. He never struck me as a mean guy.”

  “He is not a cruel person.”

  I then proceeded to sing a song about erasers, as I happily obliterated my entire drawing.

  Overall, it was a pretty good day.

  9 Days, 18 February, Wednesday

  I wondered today if I should be using this valuable time left to spend time with him instead of wasting it by recording what happened. I mean, right now, I could be with him, whispering nonsensical romance into his ear. But instead, I’m sitting here in Terra’s chair writing down the inane events of the day as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

  I suppose I’ve wondered about this same sort of thing before, but now I’m in the single digits. It was all well and good to pointlessly record my day when I had more days to spare.

  So, is it worth more to experience more, or to record the events for posterity.

  If I neglect this writing, I will experience more, yes, but the experience will be mine alone. If I write it all down, then the experience is shared amongst anyone who reads it.

  So which is more valuable? Quantity over a quantity of another kind? A concentration of experiences for me alone, or a lesser quantity but shared with others?

  There’s quality in both, so it’s an irrelevant factor.

  Even if that’s the phrase from the ages.

  Damn the ages, I’ll make my own phrases and codes to live by.

  But I’m done writing for today, I’m going to wake him up, ever so slightly, and make sure he gets to his bed.

  I swear, that guy can just fall asleep anywhere.

  8 Days, 19 February, Thursday

  I’ve been marking the days on my hands as they disappear. Today, it was the little finger on my left hand, as it was the little finger on my right yesterday.

  My marking system is much like his, I’m making tiny cuts on my fingers as the day passes. The last one will be hidden underneath my ring.

  The Bullies get back from their trip tomorrow. I hope nothing happens, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to start something since Zack, for lack of a better word, defected to our group of friends.

  I’m quite fond of Zack, actually. In the short time we’ve been friends, he’s proven himself to be a conversationalist, and is quite educated in classical fiction. It really seems odd that he would be in with that particular group of people. No wonder he felt the need to escape them.

  Julia and Ariel also mentioned a trip to the mall this weekend, to shop for who knows what. We all decided this was a good idea, and are meeting on Saturday.

  As we got home, we discovered Terra in the living room, gushing over a huge pile of shopping bags. Initially, I thought she’d finally gone round the bend and spent her savings on a shopping spree.

  As it turns out, she won the monthly raffle for a gift certificate to the mall. And she went out and purchased a bunch of new clothing for Noah and I.

  Noah was completely taken aback by this.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said these bags are yours!” Terra thrust an armful of bags at him, flapping her hands. “Now go try it on! Let’s see how well I did! Aerian, you too!” She grabbed a comparably large armful and piled them on me.

  Noah was blushing crimson, holding the many bags tightly, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sailor! Now go try them on!” She clapped her hands, and I hurried away, Noah copying me and running off to his bedroom.

  In my bags, I found two new pairs of jeans, with odd rips in them, three plain t-shirts, four fancy dress shirts, and two hooded sweatshirts.

  There was also a leathe
r bracelet, which I took a shine to immediately. It was the first thing I put on.

  Evidently, she was much more adventurous with Noah’s clothes, as his new shirts ranged from completely normal cotton to some weird multi-layer ripped/zippered/buttoned/stitched-up punk-looking shirt.

  And a sweater that was really tight on him.

  “Oh! I really thought that would stretch more.”

  I didn’t mind. That sweater really left nothing to the imagination. You could even see the lines of his muscle shirt underneath it.

  He must have noticed I was staring with a hungry expression on my face, because he started blushing again.

  The last item in his bags was a sky blue t-shirt.

  “I know you like to wear white, sailor, but this would look really good on you.”

  Noah wore blue for the rest of the day. It took some getting used to, yeah, but it really made me happy.

  He’s getting colour from another source than bruises and cuts.

  That’s truly comforting.

  Maybe he’ll become more comfortable with colours. I know why he wears white. It’s to indirectly proclaim his innocence. Maybe when he’s free of this curse, he won’t feel the need to express that innocence. I’d like to see him in every colour.

  Sort of like the colour that appears after there’s been rain, and then the sun appears.

  Well, now he’s sailed out of the stormy sea, so he should find his colour.

  Richard of York gave battle in vain.

  7 Days, 20 February, Friday

  A lot of people think Friday is the best day of the week. I dunno. This Friday was terrible, and I don’t think next Friday is shaping up to be much better.

  As a quick summary, Noah and I have been suspended for two days.

  It started during the break between Bio and Art, while we were walking to our lockers. We always separate when we go to our lockers, because they’re assigned alphabetically by surname.

  I heard some shouting from over by his locker, loud jeers and cheers. Instantly, I knew what was happening, dropped everything and ran to his locker.

  A crowd was already gathered around it, mostly the Bullies, along with some other students. Noah was sprawled vulnerably on the floor. The largest of the Bullies, the Leader, the one with the powerful glares, was standing over him and kicking him over and over.

 

‹ Prev