He swoops down, until our faces are inches apart. I can see every imperfection and every stray strand of hair in vivid detail as I automatically redden and my breath catches in my throat. “I don’t know what love feels like,” he whispers. “But whatever it is, I really hope it feels like this.” There’s butterflies in my stomach all over again, radiating heat. They warm me from the inside out, spreading throughout my body.
But I know this is wrong. I lean back and the guilt nearly consumes me when I see hurt flicker momentarily in his eyes. “Please don’t,” I say, looking away.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to take chances again.”
I hear him sigh. “Hope, look at me.” I do so: mossy, glazed-over green vs. brilliant brown. “I won’t leave. Trust me.”
“But what happens when I leave?”
“You don’t have to.”
And then he kisses me gently. I had not expected it. The pure electricity and heat that races throughout my body takes me by surprise. His lips are silk against mine and it feels like I’m flying and falling at the same time. It’s everything a perfect kiss should be, because I was an innocent little girl at one point who dreamt about those sorts of things. But it’s over too soon. He pulls away, leaving a warm tingling sensation. I wish more than anything that this had been my first kiss, that Ben had not stolen that privilege from me.
I slowly open my eyes. “That was nice,” I breathe and a grin cracks across his face.
“The pleasure’s mine, dear. I think you’re beautiful, even if you don’t,” he says. I let out a small laugh, snuggling closer to him because I’m still not sure if I’m only dreaming, or if this is real. It seems too perfect to be real.
“I’m sure my runny nose must be very appealing,” I mumble into his coat, hearing his familiar laugh and feeling the vibrations.
It’s quiet for a long moment after that. In those moments I feel whole again: free. The emptiness is gone, the regrets and the insecurities and the broken memories are suddenly insignificant. I wish that there is a way I can preserve this moment; somehow freeze us in this position for another decade maybe.
I stare through the branches of the oak tree, searching out Sirius; the Dog Star, the brightest star in the sky. And I smile when I realise that after all these years, it is still as bright as it always was.
Chapter 19: Smile for me
It’s unfair really, that even the best things in life must come to an end eventually. Books have epilogues, food has use-by dates and life has death. It’s an inescapable aspect of the world. Things are made and then they are broken again. People are born, they live for a little while on borrowed life and then they die. I suppose even the earth has to have an end. Maybe a few hundred billion years into the future people will realise that when the sun burns out, becomes a white dwarf star and takes the earth with it. Who knows, maybe by that time humans will be the ones who are extinct and dinosaurs will have dominated the planet again.
When I tell Ash my theory on the universe one lazy afternoon while we lie on our backs in the meadow, watching the clouds, he only chuckles. “Dinosaurs?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “They already had their chance at existing. And besides, I don’t think evolution works backwards.”
“Well, what do you think will happen?”
“I think the ice caps will have melted by then and the earth will be dominated by jelly fish.”
I let out a snort of laughter. Then, I notice his serious expression. “Oh,” I grin. “You were being serious.”
“It’s possible, you know,” he says indignantly. “Jellyfish live in warm, tropical waters. When the seas rise and get warmer, they will most likely be the best adapted organisms.”
“If you could work all of that out, why are you failing biology?”
“What can I say? You bring out the best in me,” he shrugs. “Maybe if you joined my biology class, I wouldn’t fail the subject.”
I do not miss the underlying suggestion. I shift onto my side, facing him with tired eyes. “Ash,” I mutter wearily. “I want to stay, but you know I can’t.”
“Why?” he whispers. “Do you love me?”
Whatever it is I feel for him, I’ll assume its love. “I think so. But-”
“But what?” he cuts me off and for a horrible moment I see hurt flash in his eyes. “This is perfect, isn’t it? You could stay here and join my school. We could see each other every single day.” The offer is so tempting that I almost want to say yes and stay, but I know I can’t.
“I do want that,” I tell him sadly. “But they need me more now.”
“I don’t understand.” He seems aggravated as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Why do you do this to yourself? They’ve never appreciated you or cared for you like they should, so why go back?”
“They promised this time it would be different,” I say weakly. “They said they want me to come home.”
His eyes are wistful. He looks back up to the candy-floss clouds. When he finally speaks again his voice is surprisingly apologetic, defeated. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “It was selfish of me to pressure you like that. If this is what you want, then I should be happy.” He forces a fake smile, smooth fingertips gently reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. They linger for a moment, before pulling away reluctantly.
“But you’re not,” I state.
The fake smile drops. “How can I be happy when I’m going to lose you?”
Something pointed and sharp pokes at my insides when I hear those words. But then I remember my sisters. I remember how much I had strived for their respect all of these years and how now, I’m so close to finally getting it. “You’re not going to lose me,” I murmur. “We can phone, email, maybe see each other in the holidays-”
“But it won’t be the same.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I say. “I really am.”
He seems to have expected this answer. “Don’t be,” he smiles sadly. “I only have you for three more days. Let’s make the most of them.” I nod feebly as he kisses my forehead, knowing that he deserves more than someone who is causing him pain.
I like to think that there are some things that can last longer than others. I like to pretend that there are things that come after the end; that the end doesn’t necessarily mean it’s over, just like that. With books, there are sequels. With rejections, there are always new opportunities. I like to think that it’s not over, not yet. I like to think that when these last three days are gone there will still be something left.
*****
I try not to think about leaving him. He doesn’t mention it again and instead forces a smile which I know isn’t completely genuine whenever he’s around me. His fake smiles hurt more than I ever thought they would. I feel a pang of guilt every time I see him. However, when I try to apologise, he only puts a finger to my lips and asks – almost begs – me not to. I know he is doing it for me. I know he is trying to hide behind that fake, sunny smile because he thinks it will be easier for me. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he would shout and glare, do something to hurt me, because I deserve it. But I know well enough that he would never do that.
The next day, he takes me to the cinema. He says that he wants to take me out on a proper, traditional, snog-in-the-back-row movie date. He says it is our first date. Although neither of us admits it, we know it may also be our last. We end up watching a romantic comedy in the end; some sort of silly drama in which the main character is crushing on her sister’s boyfriend. It’s a happy ending, of course. I hardly pay attention to the movie. In the darkness of the cinema, I watch Ash from the corner of my eye. I observe each dark contour of his face, each dip and each frown line. I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. I try to imagine living without him there every day to annoy me, to destroy the kitchen, to smirk and argue with me over pointless things like cleaning his room and who won the last game of monopoly. It’s hard.
He takes me out to dinner after the movie
, making an effort to be a proper gentleman. If it were anyone else, it would be sweet. But because it’s him, it’s hilarious. He opens the door for me, brings a rose and holds my hand. I can tell all of it is new to him. In the end I have to tell him to stop because I want Ash, not prince charming. Teasingly he asks what the difference is. I tell him that Ash is better than prince charming will ever be because he’s real. He just grins and pulls out my chair. “Well, I can at least try to be a gentleman for one night, can’t I?” he asks. I laugh because I never thought that I would be the one to teach him manners.
The restaurant he takes me to is elegant yet affordable, cosy but not too fancy. It’s a Chinese restaurant. We order dishes to share between us and then we simply talk. This time we do not bicker, we talk properly. We talk about everything and anything, from our food preferences to our ambitions, hobbies and views. I find out that his favourite colour is green, he used to own a goldfish named Swimmy and that when he was nine he wanted to become a scientist.
He tells me that I’m different, because I like him for him, not appearances. I’m silent for a long time after that, because what am I supposed to say to something like that? He pays the bill, gets up and offers me my coat. “Come on Cinderella, time to go home. It’s nearly midnight,” he teases. But for a second, a fraction of a moment, the fake smile slips.
*****
The next morning I help Jenny with the gardening and later cooking lunch. It is my last full day. Together we pull out weeds, pluck the large, ripe tomatoes and plant Dahlias and Chrysanthemums which bloom in the autumn. Her garden is pretty. I never took the time before to notice the precise placing of the flowers, the way they are arranged by colour, how the grass is a lush and vibrant shade of green. I ask Jenny why she chose to become a sales assistant. She tells me it was her only choice, that she’s never had any special talents. I raise an eyebrow and tell her to look around.
“Your garden,” I say. “It’s beautiful. You could become a garden designer, like the ones on TV. Maybe that’s what you’ve been searching for all along.”
She blushes slightly at the compliment. “Thank you,” she smiles sincerely. “But I could never do something like that.”
“Why not?” I press, the shovel in my own hand long forgotten. “You’re great at gardening and you like it. It’s perfect.”
“I’ll consider it,” she promises.
I watch her work for a little while, trying to copy her technique. She gives me tips every so often, pointing out a particularly effective method of planting something, or showing me how to cut the dead flowers at exactly the right angle so that the plant can bloom again. I realise that I will miss her as well. I will miss her cheerful smiles, her kind words and even her lectures (normally directed at Ash). I realise that there will be a lot of things I will miss here.
“Hope?” She breaks the peaceful silence after about half an hour, stopping her work momentarily and looking over at me.
“Hmm?”
“Your sisters will be coming here tomorrow morning. Have you decided?”
I stiffen, before nodding mechanically. “Yes,” I murmur. “I love staying here, but I’ve decided to go home, with my sisters. But thank you Jenny, thank you for everything.”
She seems to have expected this. “That’s fine,” she smiles. “I’ve enjoyed having you here and I’ve never seen Ash so happy. Remember, the offer’s always open if you change your mind.”
I pause, and just for a moment I imagine what it would be like to stay. “What would happen, if I didn’t go back?”
“I would have to apply for legal guardianship of you,” she says. I nod, fake a smile and remind myself why I’m going to leave.
The morning drags on and it feels like forever, but I’m glad. I want my last day to last as long as possible. In the afternoon, just after lunch, Ash and I leave the house and travel as usual towards Cleadon Creek. He seems excited about something, but refuses to tell me what is inside the small duffle bag that he brings with him.
It is a warm, sunny day; one of the last before autumn takes summer’s place. Although the leaves on the trees are already turning yellow and crisp, the sun shines brightly. Cleadon Creek looks more beautiful than I have ever seen it, the shimmering water sparkling in the sunlight and rippling softly like blue satin. For once, even the barren island does not look quite so lifeless. We walk right to the water’s edge and slip our shoes and socks off, the cool water lapping at our toes. He drops the duffle bag and takes his shirt off. I blush profusely and try not to stare.
“What are you doing?”
“Going swimming,” he smirks at my red face. “Do you want to come in too?” I gape at him and try to persuade him out of it, but he ignores me and wades into the shallower waters, pushing off and swimming into the deeper areas. He grins that stupid, happy grin and waves, the water glittering on his body. “Come in! It’s great!”
I shake my head in defeat and settle on top of a large rock near the bank of the lake instead to watch him swim. He rolls his eyes and ducks underwater for a moment, before his head bobs up again, hair wild and spraying water in all directions. I watch him splash in the lake for a while until he comes out, the water making his skin look like it’s sparkling in the sunlight. A piece of green, Lake Weed is wrapped around his foot. He jogs over to me, shaking his head as if he were a dog and showers me with water droplets in the process. I can tell by his mischievous grin that he had done that on purpose. I mock glare, handing him a towel. I try not to think about how perfect he looks with his sopping hair and gleaming skin.
“It’s a win-win situation,” he tells me afterwards as we walk back. “I got to go swimming and you got to see me without a shirt on.” I blush slightly again, because to be honest it’s true. I punch him playfully on the arm.
“You are so full of yourself,” I joke and he simply laughs.
*****
I spend the rest of that precious afternoon by visiting Claire’s house. It’s only fair that I tell her, even if I’ve never liked goodbyes. Her reaction is expected; she gives a sad “Oh,” of understanding while Daniel watches from the doorway, nonplussed. I’ll miss the strange, sock-obsessed girl I have come to befriend and her bipolar little brother. Claire assures me that we’ll stay friends despite my leaving, that we can email and meet up during the holidays. I don’t think it will ever happen, but I nod and smile along nonetheless.
“I’ll be there tomorrow to see you off,” she says sadly. “If you want, I can ask Tia to come as well.”
“Okay, thanks.” ‘Thanks’ seems like a rather meagre word to end the conversation with, but for the first time my mind is utterly blank.
The evening comes sooner than I hoped. I help Jenny cook dinner while Ash attempts to wash the pond gunk out of his hair. Dinner itself is a quiet and awkward affair. Jenny is the only one who tries to start up conversation. The only thought that runs through my mind is that there’s only fifteen or so hours left until I must leave. It’s a sad occasion, yes, but at the same time I miss home. I’ve been away for too long.
He takes me upstairs to his room after dinner with no excuse and no explanation. He just shuts the door behind me and jumps onto his bed, jamming his hands behind his head and staring resolutely up at the ceiling. I cautiously walk towards him, taking my time to avoid tripping over any of the random objects that litter the floor.
“Is there any reason for kidnapping me?”
“You can leave if you want,” he offers. His hair is towel-dried and still damp from his shower.
I sit at the foot of his bed, on a clean patch of floor. “No thanks. I kind of like being taken hostage by you.”
He slides down his bed to join me, leaning back. He pulls out a packet of jelly beans from nowhere, offering me one. “Just like old times,” he jokes.
I smirk and pick out the same bright red one, popping it into my mouth. “Just like old times,” I agree. Except this time its cherry flavour, not horseradish. It’s quiet while we chew and I t
ake the chance to eye the room shrewdly. “You still haven’t considered cleaning since the last time I asked?”
“Why clean?” he shrugs. “I like my room like this. It has personality.”
“Apparently you’re rubbing off on it in that case, or the other way around.” I sigh. “Ash?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you do me a favour?”
“What is it?”
“After I leave, keep up that truce with Ben. The score’s settled now; don’t do anything to provoke him.”
He looks saddened, but nods anyway. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll try.”
I bite my lip. “I’m sorry –”
“Don’t even think about apologising again,” he interrupts. “We’ve already been over this. I don’t blame you. What happened between you and Ben is in the past now, and there’s no need for you to still feel guilty about it.”
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