by R. M. Walker
She didn’t usually make friends this fast and certainly not with boys. She didn’t have an awful lot of experience with boys as more than just passing friends. Yes, there had been Jimmy, but they’d only held hands until he kissed her after the dance. She’d learnt at an early age that trying to build anything more than a passing acquaintance was a pointless activity. It would lead to pain if she let herself get too involved with someone, only to never see them again after she moved.
So far though, Matt and the twins were acting as if they wanted to be friends with her, or at least friendly. The twins were just being helpful yesterday. Matt was just concerned because he’d witnessed her seizure, and he was being kind in offering her a lift home. They were all being friendly, and it would be nice to have friends so quickly for once.
The problem was she found all four of them attractive on a physical level. Plus, they were all easy going and seemingly kind. Well, the jury was still out on Nate. But he’d been the one to pick her up; he wouldn’t have bothered if he wasn’t kind hearted. She’d been embarrassed and her head fuzzy with pain, but on a basic level, being held in his arms made her feel—safe. And when she thought about it, really thought about it, she felt safe with all of them.
She just wasn’t sure what to make of that.
French
Lunch time found Lily sitting at the same table as before, but this time she’d brought her own lunch. She’d picked up a carton of juice from the vending machine, and was contentedly munching through cheese and pickle sandwiches while reading the book she’d brought with her.
“Lily Flower.” Matt sat down opposite her, depositing his tray on the table with a bang. “Not risking your life with the school dinners then. Wise decision.”
“Hey, Matt,” she said, picking a piece of pickle from the edge of the bread before it could fall off. She popped it into her mouth, looking at his plate. “Health risk? And yet, here you are again, going for the lasagne,” she pointed out.
“What can I say? I’m a masochist.” He grinned and picking up his fork, he started to eat.
“I’m getting dèjá vu.” Nate sat down beside Matt at the table. “If we sit here will it cause a repeat of yesterday?”
“Nate!” Matt smacked him on the arm and then shook his head at Lily. “Ignore him.”
She looked at Nate, his head was slightly tilted to one side, those blue eyes of his were staring right into hers. She got the feeling he didn’t trust her. But she had no idea why. Was he ignorant enough to think epilepsy was catching? A ripple of annoyance went down her spine, and she shifted slightly, straightening up.
“If you’re that worried, you can sit somewhere else,” she said calmly.
“Well”—he clasped his hands together and leant towards her slightly, a strand of black hair fell over one lens, but he didn’t move it—“we’ve been at this school since we were twelve, and through all those years, we’ve always sat at this table for lunch. So if someone needs to move, I wouldn’t say it’s us, would you?”
“Jesus Christ, Nate!” Matt cried out, dropping his fork. Lily felt a rush of humiliation go through her. Stung, she got to her feet and grabbed her things. She felt her cheeks grow hot under his stare, but she held his gaze.
“I hadn’t realised you’d marked your territory for so long,” she said sweetly, but steel edged her voice. “I’ll go before you need to pee on the table to re-mark your scent.”
Nate sat back, a muscle worked at the side of his jaw as he continued to watch her.
“Lily, sit down; ignore Nate. He’s a total ass sometimes. Nate! You fucking prick!” Matt growled at Nate.
“I was joking,” Nate said quietly.
She wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but the calculating look in his eyes told her he was up to something. She didn’t need that kind of hassle, no matter how good looking he was, or how he’d helped her yesterday.
“I wasn’t.” She started to move away. Matt jumped to his feet and blocked her way. “Sit down, Lily, there’s nowhere else now anyway,” he said gently. She knew he was right. All the tables were taken; it was the reason she’d sat there. She hadn’t realised she’d sat at their table the day before, and she’d mistakenly thought it wouldn’t hurt if she sat there again.
“Look, I’ve been in enough schools to know how it works,” she told Matt. “There’s groups, cliques, and you’ve all got your own spots. I get it, I’ll find somewhere else; this is your table.”
“Lily, please.” He hesitated slightly before reaching out to put his hands on her shoulders. “Sit down.”
“Sit down, Lily. He’s right; I was being an ass.” Nate caught her attention. “I apologise. It started out as a bad joke and went wrong. You’re welcome to sit at this table, I’ll even pee over you, if you want.”
It would be better for her to walk away. To avoid getting too friendly with them.
“Please, Lily. I was being an ass.” She caught his eyes and saw the contrition in them. He helped her yesterday, and she hadn’t thanked him yet.
“I’ll sit down.” She slid back into the chair. “But I think I’ll pass on the peeing, thanks.”
“Your loss,” he said with a shrug, and then did the unthinkable and smiled at her. It was a proper smile that started on his lips and ended in his eyes. She found herself smiling back at him.
“Thank you for carrying me out yesterday,” she said quietly, keeping eye contact with him. “You didn’t have to do that, but I’m grateful you did.” She watched as something seemed to thaw inside him and his whole posture relaxed slightly. It occurred to her that maybe he was as wary of her as she was of him. She just had no idea why though.
“You’re welcome, Lily.” He smiled, and Lily once again found herself smiling back. His eyes held hers, and Lily felt herself relax; he really did have lovely eyes. She’d never understood what it meant to get lost in someone’s eyes, but now she did.
“What’ve we missed?”
The twins stopped at the table, trays in hand and bags over shoulders. They looked as if they’d been outside as their hair was windswept and falling into their eyes.
“A pissing contest,” Matt said, his mouth full. “Lily won, I think.”
“I think she did,” Nate agreed, and held out a hand to her to shake. “Let’s start again. I’m Nate Cohen. Nice to meet you, Lily Adair.”
“Nice to meet you, Nate.” She reached out her hand, grinning at him. She shook his hand firmly and then let go to pick up her sandwich. His grin widened and he seemed satisfied over something, but what it was Lily had no idea.
“What did you mean ‘enough schools you’ve been too’?” Matt asked.
“We move a lot,” she said casually. “And I mean a lot.”
“You and your mum?” asked one of the twins. She looked up at them and nodded. They were eating chips with their fingers, cans of Coke on their trays, and she suddenly saw it.
“Josh?” One of the twins looked up a split second before the other one did, but it was enough.
“What?” He took a swallow of his Coke.
“You’re mirror twins,” she said, and they looked at each other in surprise before looking back at her and grinning.
“We are.” Josh tipped his Coke at her in acknowledgement. “What gave it away?”
“You’re opposites. You’re right handed and Jake is left. You’re using opposite hands to each other. It’s why you’re so like each other. I’ve met twins before, but there was always a slight difference facially, but you two? Mirror images of each other.”
“Yup. Right down to the mole on our hips,” Josh said.
“So even your bodies are mirror imaged?”
Jake winked at her and leant forward slightly. “Yeah, and if you’re really lucky, Lily, we’ll let you see those moles one day.”
“Jake!” Nate shook his head, rolling his eyes. Lily hid her blush by bending to put her book into her bag.
“It used to be a
pain,” Josh spoke up. “Being opposite handed didn’t serve us well when we wanted to fool people, so he learnt to write right handed and I learnt to write left handed. We can use either hand now and our writing is the same.”
“It’s pretty rare, isn’t it?” she asked.
“We’re special,” Josh said, a wicked smirk curled his lip.
“Oh you’re special, alright,” Matt teased. In perfect sync they both flipped Matt off, making Lily shake her head in amazement at how together they were. They really were like one person split in two.
“Lily?” Matt caught her attention as she finished off her sandwich. “How often have you moved?”
“I can’t remember a time when we weren’t moving,” she said with a shrug. “I can usually make it to the end of an academic year, and then when summer rolls around we move. Mum paints, and she’s always chasing the next picture I guess.”
“Shit. You mean you move every year?” Nate asked, surprise in his eyes and face.
“Yeah. I know it sounds odd, but it’s just how it’s always been.”
“So, let me get this right,” Jake spoke up and she looked over at him as she opened her carton of juice. “You finish a school year and then move somewhere else?”
“Yeah, it was a bit odd this time though. I finished up in Brighton and we’d moved to Portsmouth, but then your parents,” she looked at Matt, “got in touch with Mum and we moved the following week to... well, here.”
“You moved twice in the summer holidays?” Matt snorted. “No wonder you had a seizure yesterday. I think I’d have one if I had to move that quickly.”
She was suddenly aware that all four of them were looking at her, identical looks of pity mingled with surprise in their eyes. She didn’t like the pity, but it was something she saw every time she told someone how often she’d moved.
“It’s not so bad,” she said. “I’ve never minded. I’m used to it.”
“It must make your head spin,” Matt said, shaking his head. “You don’t know whether you’re coming or going.”
“Sure I do,” she replied. “I’ve never known anything different. I’m okay with it. I love seeing new places, meeting new people.”
“But you can’t put roots down,” Josh said. “What about your family?”
“Mum’s the only family I have. My dad died when my mum was still pregnant with me.”
“No brothers or sisters or other family?” Matt asked, and she shook her head.
“Just me and Mum.” She smiled at him. “It’s not nearly as bad as it sounds. I’ve visited more places in this country than most people have. I’ve lived in Scotland, Wales, a lot of places in England, and now I’m in Cornwall.”
“But what if you find a place you really like? A place you really want to stay in and not leave?” Jake asked, taking a chip from Josh’s plate as his own was now empty. She noticed Josh didn’t say anything, just pushed the plate slightly closer to Jake.
“I’ve never been anywhere that has made me feel that way,” she admitted. “Mum has always tended to stay in cities or towns. This is the first place that’s been out of town.”
“And do you like it here?” Nate asked her. She watched as he separated his peas from the rest of his mixed vegetables, and pushed them to the edge of his plate.
“I’ve only been here a few days, but I like it so far. Our cottage is pretty.”
“You’re down on Derry’s Lane,” Matt said, polishing off the last of his lasagne. Nate picked up his plate and pushed all his peas onto Matt’s plate. Again, nothing was said. It was such an intimate act that Lily was beginning to see just how close they all were.
Matt began to eat the peas as Nate carried on with his cottage pie. Lily picked at the skin on her apple. Something about the way they were with each other sent a pang of longing through her. She was close to her mother, had always been close. She’d had friends of a sort, but she’d never had a relationship with a friend that was more than casual, and none that ever offered to keep in touch with her. She’d never had a best friend, and it hadn’t bothered her. But there was something about these four that she wanted for herself. She wanted that informal connection with someone. She wanted someone to know her better than she knew herself, and to know someone that well in return.
“Those are old worker cottages,” Matt spoke up again. “There’s an old quarry just outside of the village. Disused now, but there’s a pool in the old quarry that’s safe to swim in.”
“But don’t go there alone,” Nate spoke up suddenly. “It’s deep, and there’s only one exit point. If you got into trouble on your own, no one would know.”
“We go down most weekends. Want to come with us this Saturday?” Josh asked her. He began stacking his and Jake’s plates on the trays.
His question took her by surprise, and she felt a longing to join in.
“Sometimes the other village kids go there as well,” Matt added. “It’s more popular than the swimming pool in town. Free as well.”
“Yes, okay. I’d like that. Don’t worry if you decide you can’t make it though,” she said. She wanted to go with them, wanted the chance to make friends with them. She realised that they were already a unit, and being boys they wouldn’t be looking to make her their new best friend, but she didn’t need that. She just wanted some friends for as long as she was here.
“We’ll make it,” Nate said. “We’ll come around for you just after lunch, gives the water chance to warm up a bit. Although, I’ll warn you now, it’s colder than river water. It’s going to get too cold to swim in it soon.”
“Understatement, Nate,” Jake retorted. “It’s freezing; it will take your breath away when you jump in.”
“Will that affect your epilepsy?” Matt asked suddenly, he leant forward slightly, his whiskey coloured eyes intent on her.
“I wouldn’t think so,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve been swimming in cold river water before.”
“What does trigger it?” asked Josh.
“I take medication, so I’m usually okay. But I guess it’s the usual: stress, being overtired. I was doing okay. I haven’t had one for six months.”
“What’s it like?” asked Matt, and then waved a hand apologetically at her. “No, sorry, that’s a personal question.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it. Invariably people ask when they find out anyway.”
She set her apple core on her plate. “It’s weird I guess. I don’t get a warning or anything. I just suddenly go down.”
“Has it ever happened like that before?” asked Nate. They were watching her intently, and it made her want to slink down in her chair. It was like they were hanging onto every word she said, as if it held the answer to mankind’s problems, and not just her boring life. It was intimidating.
“What do you mean?”
“Has someone’s touch ever sparked it off before?” Jake clarified for her.
Her head went back, and she stared at him before looking at Nate. “Matt didn’t cause it. Is that what you thought?” Had she done something to make him think it was him that caused it? Maybe her attitude in class had made him think it. She had shot out of there very quickly. She winced, feeling bad.
“It just seemed odd,” Matt said, an easygoing smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Bad timing.” She sat forward making sure he was looking at her. “It really was just utter bad timing. It’s happened before. I was at a fairground last summer, queueing to go on the carousel. I paid my money to the guy, he gave me the change and bam, I was down. Fortunately, Mum was with me and they had St. John Ambulance there as well. It really doesn’t have a rhythm or reason to it. I don’t know why it happened then either. I don’t have photosensitive epilepsy. Lights don’t seem to affect me, it really is random. But it was definitely not you, Matt.”
“What does it feel like?” Matt asked.
“Usually it’s just like a lot of swirli
ng colours before I lose consciousness and then I’m back again, feeling as if a ten-ton truck has run me over.”
“Usually, so, not always?” Nate asked curiously. She looked at him, her eyes made contact with his, but all she could see was mild curiosity.
“Well, I guess.” She shrugged again, there probably wasn’t any harm in telling them what happened this time. She was certain it was just the added stress from moving twice in such a short space of time. “This time was a bit different. I didn’t get the colours, I just got a load of random things.” She picked at the apple core, pulling out the seeds.
“Random things?” Jake asked quietly, he was looking up at her from under his fringe.
“Well, you, I saw all of you, places, just random things. I think most of it was jumbled up because I was overtired, and a little bit stressed from the move.”
“And have you seen anything like that before?” Nate asked, and once again she had the feeling her answer was important to him.
“No, but they have changed over the years. I didn’t get tonic-clonic seizures until I was about twelve, before that I had absence seizures.”
“Absence?” asked Jake with a frown. “What’s that?”
“For a couple of seconds I just used to blank out, stare into space, but I didn’t know I was doing it.” She set her seeds into a star shape on the tray. “But I can tell you now one hundred percent, Matt, that it was not you. You may be nice, but you’re not seizure inducing.” She smiled at him, desperate for him to know it wasn’t his fault.
“Damn, I thought I’d made such an impression on you that I just swept you off your feet into a good old fashioned swoon.”