Hurt People Hurt People

Chapter Forty One:

"It's nice to be outside again," I admonished, plucking a lilac harebell from the hay.

"I know," Arya said simply, threading another speedwell into her growing flower crown. "There! a few more and I'll be done. How is your's coming along?"

I sighed, brandishing the limply knitted buds in her face. "They keep falling off. I have concluded that I wasn't meant for weaving plants, only for growing them."

"So that I can come along and pluck them from the ground afterwards," she grinned cheerily, adding another clover to the mix. "We're the perfect set of cousins, really. But you know. You ever think about how childish we are, sitting ourselves down in the middle of the park and just . . . Murdering flowers?"

"Not at all."

"Well, at least we know who the serial killer is out of us two. No wonder your chain keeps falling apart, you're literally recycling the same three daisies."

"Yep. Ever eco-friendly."

"Who cares about all of that on a day as lovely as this, though?" she exhaled contentedly, lolling back onto the turf and squinting up at the cloud-dotted sky.

I had to admit, I didn't really care about much that day. The warmth of the sun on my back wiped clean the load I so often hauled on it, and the late August noon was so utterly perfect that to remember it still makes me smile.

"To think, we only have a couple of weeks until school starts again. Criminal."

"Not for me. I'm homeschooled. I have a constant supply of homework," I said dryly, tossing aside my wreath and laying back, too. "Look at the bright side - you'll go back to seeing Corey every day."

Her face lit up. "Oh, yeah. Good point."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep moisture in my throat. "So. . . How is he?"

"He's good," she beamed. "Very good. We're very good."

"That's . . . Good."

"Oh, shush! but yeah. I'm meeting him the day after tomorrow, once you go home."

"That's nice. Have fun."

"We will."

I raised my eyebrows. "No comment."

"You filthy girl."

"Tell me something I don't know."

But for some reason, no matter how hard I swallowed, my throat felt as if it was closing up.

"Ugh! how can you be my cousin? anyways. Yes. It's all going swimmingly."

I nodded, glaring hard at the trees on the other side of the park, trying to focus my blurring eyes when Arya suddenly said, "So what about you?"

I turned my head to look at her, startled. "Me?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her expression intent.

I shrugged, averting my eyes again. "Nothing, really."

"You don't think you're progressing a little? ready to move on a bit, maybe even date someone new - maybe?"

I stared at her as if she'd just suggested skewering my own family and roasting them on a spit. "Date someone new?"

"Okay, then, maybe not!" she said, looking alarmed.

"What do you mean, date someone new?" I cried, sitting abruptly up. "He only just left me!"

"No, Layla. He left you in June."

"Yes, that's still too close!"

"It's nearly September, girlie. It's really not too close."

"Oh, but it is. I dated him seven months, Arya. Seven months! best part of a year. And I loved him every second of it. I can't just - just move on like that. I don't know if it'll take me years to get past it, let alone weeks!"

"No, Layla, it's been months."

"Yeah, and months are made of weeks, aren't they?" I snapped defensively, rubbing the tops of my arms and drawing my knees up to my chest, before adding lowly, "I just need more time."

She sighed, placing one slender hand on my hunched shoulders. "You can't be sad over this forever."

"It's not been forever. Just a few weeks."

"Months."

"Fine, months! a few months. And that's nowhere near enough. I can't just spring back up. I've never been made of elastic, least of all now."

"I know you haven't," she said softly, a little of her apparent exasperation fading as she brushed a strand of bushy hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear. Kind of like what Alex used to do.

"It's so . . . Hard at the moment, more than ever before. Because I'm struggling to get over things, they just build and build and then another one gets added as soon as I'm shaking off the last. It's stacking up and I don't really know what to do with it."

"Of course you don't. There's a lot going on with you right now, and you've never had to cope with that until recently."

I was quiet for a second, considering an eloquent response, but I settled for, "yes". It was so underwhelming, but I knew Arya understood why. She laced her fingers in between mine, squeezing lightly.

"You'll be okay," she comforted, using her free hand to entwine a spare buttercup in the hair just above my ear.

"Do you know what they mean?" she questioned suddenly.

"What, buttercups?" I asked, touching it lightly.

"Yes."

"Friendship. Joy. Happiness. Youth."

"Mhm. Four is your lucky number, right?"

"I think so."

"Friendship, joy, happiness, youth. I count four there," she smiled, winding the same kind of magnificently yellow flower into her own hair, setting off the golden-red in each gently curled lock. She turned her brilliant green eyes to my face, the sweet beam still playing on her lips. "We have all four. Friendship, absolutely. Joy, happiness - I know you can't feel them just now, but they're still here. They're not gone, and you'll feel them just the way you have before. You'll always have them with me. And youth. You're older than you should be, in your head, but we're still young. We still have all the time to make things count, so let's do it - right?"

I leant my head on her shoulder, my heart so much fuller than it had been for far too many days. I knew she was right. I knew how well I'd be in just another few months. I only needed time - and that I had plenty of.

"Right."