The Days Of Kelsea's

(37) Kelsea - Tuesday 2nd October, 10 p.m, Kale's house

He was silent, because I think he realised he couldn't say 'she'll be fine' or something like that. Maybe he thought I wanted to talk and not be interrupted. He just didn't know what to say.

After a while, Kale turned to me and wrapped his strong arms around me, and he smelt of mint and soap and the washing powder that I guess his mum had used to wash his t-shirt. I closed my eyes as he cradled my head to his chest, and then he leaned down to gently brush his lips against mine.

I almost told him about Lucy and the note. But then he pulled back with a smile and it was so good-natured and hopeful that the words dissolved on my tongue.

There was no time for me to say anything more, either, because at that moment there was a small cough at the door. We both whirled round to see Christianna, wearing a kitchen apron, some flour on her cheek.

"Lucy and I were just wondering if you wanted to come and bake with us." She grinned broadly. "We made a batch of cookies already and now we're making more. But if you're busy, that's fine . . . " she laughed and wiggled her eyebrows.

Kale rolled his eyes and smiled. Blushing furiously, I stood up and tugged on Kale's hand. "Of course we want to. C'mon, Kale."

The warm, mouth-watering sweet smell of baked cookies had wafted up the stairs. Downstairs, Lucy was taking two trays full of them out of the oven - they were in slightly weird shapes, but looked great, the chocolate chips melted slightly on top and the dough pale brown.

She looked over at us and smiled, her eyes brightening up to a lighter blue-grey. "Hi."

"Hey." Kale went over to the tray of cookies on the side and breathed in. "Hmm these smell great."

Christianna nudged him out of the way, peering at the cookies before smiling as if she approved. "Okay, let's get going!" She called out then, clapping her hands together.

We weren't a bad cookie-making team. Kale is surprisingly clumsy and got flour everywhere as he sieved it into the bowl, whilst Christianna acted as though she was on a cooking program, weighing all the ingredients perfectly and finishing everything with a flourish.

While we waited for the cookies to bake, we all sat on the squashy leather sofa in the sitting room and watched the TV on the wall.

The Atticus's house is so much more modern and fresh and space out then ours even though it's the same size as our house - like our house but backwards, is what I always think. But their furniture is new and matches, their cushions are fat and fully-padded, and the worktops in the kitchen are sparkling clean. The shoes under the stairs are in neat rows. The bookcase is lined correctly and neatly.

I was so happy there. Just being there with Kale and Lucy and Christianna and we were all friends, and Kale is so special to me and I just don't want to be apart for him; that's what I realised today. He's kind of my little addiction and I've never felt more at home than when he wrapped his arms around me and I rested my head on his shoulder.

After the cookies were done and we ate some of them, Christianna and Lucy left us alone and Kale took me back to his room. Both of us sat on his bed and leaned back against the wall, our knees tucked up to our chests.

That's when I realised we were in Kale's room, on his bed, and I felt all flustered even though I've sat there many times before.

I don't feel it now, as I watch him sleep beside me; maybe because he's asleep - still breathing and alive and raw but not awake and alert - and right in that moment before he was staring at me like he'd never seen me before and wouldn't ever see me again; like he was trying to remember me with every single detail.