Staying Grounded [BXB]

Sorry Not Sorry

CRAIG:

I very much enjoy holding Sebastian's hand.

I enjoy the calloused feel of him and the warmth of his fingers lacing mine. The brush of his thumb and the firmness of his squeeze. Every single part of it.

"Somewhere interesting?" He asks, glancing across at me with an indulgent smile — I enjoy that, too.

"Incredibly interesting, yes." My arm starts to swing, taking his along for the ride, only for him to swiftly hijack the momentum. Raising our hands, he presses a sneaky kiss on the inside of my wrist, and my pulse reacts wildly beneath it. "It's also private, so mind your own."

Ashleigh is ambling along the quiet street ahead of us, pushing Christopher in his stroller and making no secret of listening in. "Bet you I could guess," she sing-songs over her shoulder. "Filthy beasts!"

Sebastian nudges me, cocking a brow, and I roll my eyes. "My thoughts are spotless; I'll have you know," I say. "Don't tarnish me with your grime." Both of them snort. Christopher babbles cheerily. My grin is goofy, I'm fully aware, and I couldn't care less.

Two days ago, Alex and I took a trip to Exeter College for their open event. We've registered to check out a couple of other campuses over the next few weeks, too, planning ahead for September. I may still be somewhat undecided about my future, but exploring my options is exciting, and I'm determined to find something that fits right. Yesterday, I phoned my dad to share the news. He didn't pick up until I called his office, and to say he was not enthused by my earnest quest for 'purpose' would be an understatement. We talked around in circles for quite some while, always coming back to Marley Higher, each stubbornly refusing to hear the other out. Principal Cutter has expressed strong support for my return, apparently, an invitation I'd decline regardless of whether or not Gary's still there (I didn't bother to ask). But if nothing else, Dad is a man of his word.

This morning, he phoned me back. "Your mother is away at a spa retreat with Kathryn for the weekend," I was told. "There's a meeting I can't reschedule this afternoon. So collect Christopher at three and have him home no later than seven, understood?"

It's not much, but it's a start.

Alex will be joining us at the play park in approximately ten minutes. He hasn't seen our baby brother since that same afternoon I last did. Then, later, we're calling in for tea at the farm with Judy and Dobby. Not even the overcast sky and the threat of rain can dampen my spirits today.

And when Ashleigh halts at the street corner, the park just a road width away, I'm entirely too wrapped up in my happy place to notice the reason for her sudden distraction.

Until, at least...

Until, "Mikey, hey!" She shouts, her arms up and waving through the air. "Mac!"

It's an instinct deeply ingrained that has my every nerve ending sharply alert to being watched, caught out unguarded by the slam of eyes our way from a skate-wearing twosome through the park's barred fence. "Oh." I tense. "Wonderful."

But I'm getting better at remembering myself, and as Sebastian's questioning frown tracks my gaze, his attempt to disengage from me is promptly quashed in my tightened grip. He angles closer, shielding our hands from view. "If you aren't ready for this," hot breath skims my ear, "I'd understand."

Ashleigh doesn't so much as flick a backward glance, already stealing Christopher across the road. Mikey remains crouched on one knee, interrupted midway through refastening his skate, while Tate collects his wits enough to look wary. Utterly undeterred by the lack of invitation, she beelines the pushchair toward them, the spirited swish of her indigo ponytail locking my stare.