africa ☾ h.s.

SEVEN

It was the last day.

The day before Harry would go back to flashing city lights and Susan would go back to quiet, whipporwill mornings.

It was ironic, because the grass was greener on the other side for the both of them. I heard them talking about it, underneath the tree outside Hertaych, that lunch-hour break, while Niall and I clambered up the tree (or, rather, I climbed and Niall sat on one branch, quivering like a little girl). "I wish I could go with you," Susan confessed. "See the world, live life."

"I wish I could go with you," Harry countered. "To quiet mornings, waking up. With you in my arms."

And Niall gagged, saying, "Too much love in the area," and we all laughed.

It felt good to laugh. It seemed the sky had been weighing down on us for too long, further and heavier and broader until the simple action of laughter blew all our troubles away. Because yes, it was the last day. Yes, this would be the last time Susan and Harry would see each other and, yes, it sucked and yes, we were all sad about it. But we still had today. We still had approximately 9.34 hours until Harry and Susan would have to leave.

The air was dusty and dry, as per normal. It hadn't rained in weeks; months. Susan, Harry, Niall and myself dragged buckets of water from the well - a mile out of Hertaych - and plodded them back to the village. Niall was gasping when we returned, Harry clutching his side, but Susan carried on; following me to the water house. "How do you do it?" Niall asked us as we dumped the remains of our buckets into the baths. 

"You have to," I responded. "There is no other way."

Harry and Susan shared a silent look, as is saying, We have to remain strong. There is no other way. But the truth was, there was a lot of other ways. Harry would fall in love with a big breasted, fake, plastic celebrity and Susan would probably end up a nun in a convent somewhere, writing essays on how much she hated headbands and men who wore them. Because that's the way it worked with love. Once it ended, you only get what you didn't give. The more you fell in love, the less you have left to stand and survive. 

The more you give, the less you get back.

We finished the job of emptying the water and climbed onto the school's roof to watch the stars. Niall had me in his lap and Harry had Susan in his. He nuzzled his head into Susan's shoulder, and it was then I realized: the only reason they had fallen in love was because it had been so short. So timeless. So needlessly necessary; a healing salve to Taylor and rape and bright, burning lights that cut and shattered. Their love was short, it was quick, but it was everything and anything they had ever hoped it to be. They had to have known that it would over that soon; had to have anticipated the sudden drop of temperature in their lives they would experience tomorrow.

But maybe they didn't know.

Maybe Susan was right.

Maybe the sun wasn't the only thing that blinded Englishers.

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two more chapters, then an epilogue!!