Belle Âme (SAMPLE)

Chapter 7: A Wish

Seventeen.

Today I'm turning seventeen, and I am so excited. I've always been big on birthdays. It's the day in the entire year that you get to feel special for being born on that very same day years and years ago. No matter how nasty one person can be, I genuinely believe that they should be celebrated even for that single day, then you can go back to disliking them for the rest of the year.

"You're a big fan of birthdays, I reckon?"

I smile dreamily at the memory flashing before my eyes as I lazily stretch my sleepy limbs out on my tiny bed. It's still dark outside; my alarm clock on my bedside table reads it's still five in the morning. I'm alone in our room though-mum's already up and at the main house-so I'm taking this moment to myself to think about him.

Even with only memories playing in my head, my heart still can't stop racing. His handsome face, his jaded green eyes, his full pink lips, his pointed nose, his thick brown hair, his dimple and straight white set of teeth when he laughed for the first and last time on that swing. He's so gorgeous; it hurts.

And I couldn't hate myself enough for not realizing then how much I already liked him.

We had a moment. I know that now. No matter how quick or innocent that was, we had that moment between us on Ares' birthday almost five years ago, right before he left for boarding school.

I can't believe how innocent and clueless I was at twelve years old. To say that I dived into a pit of depression after Ares left is an understatement. I cried my eyes out that Sunday when I realized he had already gone away. Mum had no idea why I was inconsolable. I wouldn't even talk to her about it, so she just left me until I fell asleep, crying on top of my bed with my face buried in my pillow.

The next few weeks at school were almost unbearable. I saw Ares in every corner, and I desperately wanted to make the ache in my chest go away just like how he went away. At home, I would mask my depression and put on a smile for mum. On Saturdays, I would insist on cleaning Ares' room even though it's completely spotless.

But despite all that, I still had no freaking idea what I was feeling. Like I said, I was innocent and clueless. It took Charlotte's words of wisdom to make me realize what it truly meant.

"You've been so down for the past couple of weeks, Callie, and I'm getting really worried about you. Do you think that you could, like, maybe talk to me about it? Maybe I could help?" Charlotte says in the softest voice. Her hazel eyes are wide and staring expectantly at me while we sit on the grass shaded by a tree. She has a fiction book on her lap while I have my notes opened.

"Honestly, Char? I don't even know what to say because I don't understand it myself. I'm just really sad... all the time now. And I'm angry at myself for feeling this way. It sucks," I groan in exasperation, stretching my legs out in front of me and resting my back against the trunk of the tree.

"When exactly did it start?" She presses as she closes her book and puts it aside to give me her undivided attention.

I love Charlotte. She's such a great friend. I don't even have to say anything because she already knows what exactly it is that I need. She's my best friend, something I never had back home in Australia. Knowing her for merely a couple of months doesn't make her anything less to me. I can talk to her about anything and trust that she won't judge me.

I ponder her question for a bit though already knowing the answer. "That Sunday after that huge fight here in school?" My answer comes out more like a question, my eyes squinting as I look towards the football field and picturing a certain tall and lanky green-eyed boy kicking a ball around.