Someday The Waves ✔ *Wattys15 Winner*

Chapter Twenty Six

But in only the way he could, Noah had made it hard to miss him constantly because not a day would pass where I wouldn't hear his voice or receive one of his letters.

True to his word, every Saturday I would walk to the mailbox to find a brown envelope with my name on it, written in Scarlet red ink. Inside I would read with eagerness about how he was getting on.

Noah would tell me about the lack of adventures he was having without me, but how he was enjoying being close to the ocean and how he'd found a beautiful beach and cliffs to explore, just that they weren't the same without me.

The small studio he was sharing was apparently nice enough and his flatmate was just as studious and interested in the stars and science as he was.

He's still no way near as fun as you though. Nowhere near as pretty either, Scar he would write in his best handwriting, letting me still feel as if I was part of his new life and still as important.

On the days when the mailbox would stay empty, I would receive calls at night with instructions to go sit outside, so we could both hear the waves crashing on the shore and watch the same stars.

Noah would point out the brightest star he could see and I would pretend I was gazing at the same one. Sometimes when it wasn't so dark in the evenings, I would cycle down to the boardwalk and find a quiet spot on the beach so when he called we could pretend again that we were together. Listening to the same ocean and crashing waves, even with distance wedged between us.

"You want me to play something for you?" Noah would ask, his voice just as magnificent and warming as before. "No one else in San Diego seems to appreciate my take on the classics, especially not my neighbours." he'd joke as I would lay my head down, eyes closed to listen to the faint sound of strumming coming from a world a way.

"Encore." I would insist, not wanting for it to stop.

Hanging up was the worst, snapping back to reality again but somehow I managed. Those late night serenades and letters gave me the strength to hold my head up and keep it above water.

And Poppy helped me keep it there, when sometimes the X's marked on my calendar left me feeling frustrated.

The Friday's when Noah and I would usually pitch up to the Diner and eat our way through the menu had become Poppy's and mines opportunity to share stories, over milkshakes and greasy burgers.

"You should start drawing again Scar." she would tell me in between mouthfuls of fries. "You were always the most creative one."

I'd laugh and disagree, noting just how well she was doing with her crafting and all the orders she had received that had landed in our bungalow, birds and bows, bunting and boxes covering every available surface. Still it kept life lively, and colourful.

"Have you thought about going to college, you know like Noah?" she would ask.

"A little." I'd reply, knowing that she had watched me so many evenings, researching vacancies in San Diego even if they were far beyond what I was qualified for. Which wasn't anything, yet still I sent off applications and resumes. Hopeful that I could figure out a way to get there, no matter how unlikely it seemed.

It was during these dinners, in the same booth Noah and I once occupied that Poppy started to test out how I felt about her selling the bungalow and moving in with her boyfriend, Henry who I had finally met a month after Noah's departure.

He wasn't what I had expected, with the memory of Poppy's sweetheart turned hard faced ex husband still fresh in my mind. By contrast Henry was a little older and wore smart suits that complimented his light grey streaked hair and warm, friendly smile.