Journal of the Survivors

Entry #3

            “All righty. I’ll be back Ky-Ky,” Cari replied, using an extremely old nickname she’d given me way back in the first few days of our friendship.

            “Yea, take your time,” I squeaked trying to be polite but hoping beyond hope that she’d return ASAP.

            She cheerfully skipped up the stairs leaving me to what I thought would be my doom. I pretended to intensely look at the paintings I’d seen a million times over as if I didn’t already have each line, colour, and shape memorized. They were by an artist named Heather McLeod who started her career just a few years ago at the young age of twenty. She was my favourite. I studied the details in her work and tried to figure out how she did it. I myself loved art, but would never be as talented as her.

            “Beautiful,” Sebastian murmured from close behind me.

            “It is,” I answered. “The details she is able to put in her work it’s simply….amazing.”

            Sebastian brushed my hair away and leaned in near. “I wasn’t talking about the painting,” he whispered in my ear.

            My body tensed. I thought, Dude this COULD NOT be happening! But then he moved his head closer and kissed my neck before moving up to the corner of my jaw right below my ear. I closed my eyes tightly and opened them again thinking I’d wake up in my room. I didn’t. I was still in the basement of the Sanders.

            Sebastian pulled away. “Kyra?” he said softly and hesitantly, “Is this okay?”

            I couldn’t help it. I threw my head back and laughed. Sometimes when I’m nervous, I break into spontaneous, uncontrollable laughter. This was one of those times. I instantly regretted it as a look of hurt spread across Bas’s face.

            “Oh no! No, no, no! I didn’t mean it like that, Bas! I just...I, uh...Man, how do I say this?”

            Sebastian waited patiently for me to continue, ever the gentleman he’d always been. I had one shot to explain it. I took a deep breath and began.

            “Do you remember when Car and I first became friends?”

            He nodded. “Yes, way back in JK. What about it?”

            “The first time she invited me over was the first time I ever met you. And I,” I pointed to myself, “and you,” I pointed to him. Then I didn’t know what to say. Wasn’t I brilliant?

            He smiled. “You know, those times when you’d invite Cari over and she’d insist you come here instead?”

            “Yea, kind of. Why?”

            “That was me,” he grinned with pink cheeks. That was a first. I’d never seen Sebastian Sanders blush. “I’d make her tell you to come here instead. I lived for the times you were at the house and actually talked to me. I made sure I was always here when you were.”

            “But...” I had no idea what I was trying to say. My brain couldn’t compute what was happening, what he was saying.

            He rubbed his hands up and down his arms as if he was cold, but to those who knew him, they could identify that it meant he was warming up to say or do something. “When I was in grade eight and you were in grade six I was telling you how I was nervous to start high school. You told me how as long as I was myself I’d do just fine. You said that it was impossible to not love me. And that’s when I realized how much I relied on you. How much I loved you.”

            My eyes widened.

            “I mean, I know I was young, but I like to think I was fairly smart,” he chuckled nervously. “And I just felt, well, I thought that you felt the same.” He awkwardly shrugged and bowed his head looking at the ground. “But, uh, if you don’t, you and I can just pretend that this never happened and go back to how we were. I don’t—” His voice broke. He paused and shuddered before continuing. “I don’t want this to...destroy what we have. If this is all we’ll ever have, I’ll take it.” He started to babble nonsense. I cut in.

            “But I do. I do feel the same,” I admitted in a shaky voice.

            His head snapped up. “You do?”

            “I always have.”

            “Really?” he asked, needing more reassurance for some reason.

            I laughed, “Always.”

            “Always,” he repeated softly to himself.

            “Ugh! I can’t stand it anymore!” The door at the top of the stairs flew open with a crash and Cari came pounding down the stairs. “Just kiss already!”

            “Ree! I thought we agreed you’d stay upstairs!” Bas accused.

            “Wait, ‘agreed’? You guys had this planned out?” I said. Neither of them seemed to hear me.

            “That was before you guys didn’t just get it over with already.”

            “Hey! What’s wrong with taking it slow?” Sebastian questioned.

            “Uh, the fact that I’ll be in the middle of this sexual tension while you take things slow? And I love you both, but I’d rather not listen to the deep longings of my brother wanting to make out with my best friend and vice versa when they could just get it over with and I won’t have to carry a barf bag everywhere,” Cari retorted.

            Sebastian smiled. “True enough.”

            And then he grabbed me and kissed me. It was perfect.

            Talking about the Sanders brings back painful memories, but if I don’t remember them, then who will? There is barely anyone left.