Kia and I walk our bikes home, taking the time to chat and catch up. We haven't always gotten on so well, but now that we do, I can't imagine not being close to her. Saskia natters on about her day but quickly moves on to dance, the only thing she actually likes talking about.
"Our next ballet is going to be the nutcracker and Clara got the lead, which is quite fitting when you think about it. Do you remember Clara?"
My heart flutters at the sound of her name and I frown uneasily.
"I think I remember you pointing her out." I say quietly.
"She's lovely, and definitely the best dancer in our group." Kia says.
"Well, I wouldn't say she's the best." I counter, even though every thought in my head agrees with her. Clara dances more naturally than I breathe. Kia laughs, waving off my compliment dismissively.
"She's so nice, I should introduce you two someday. I'm always talking about you and none of them have met you!" She says nonchalantly, as if it's nothing. But to me it's everything.
She knows of me, granted she only knows what Saskia has told her and that in itself could be catastrophic, but she knows who I am. She knows I exist. And then I begin to panic.
"I don't think that's a good idea." I say slowly, my eyes glued to the floor as I grip my handlebars a little tighter. My whole chest feels tight, my lungs seemingly not filling.
"I know the idea makes you anxious, but you really don't need to be. They're all so laid back and easy to talk to." She encourages. I laugh breathlessly. The thought of speaking to Clara is so overwhelming.
"Easy to you is hellish for me." I say, pained at the thought of my crippling social skills.
Saskia sighs but lets the subject go for now. It's hard for her to empathise with me, because she's never had to struggle to communicate. She doesn't feel breathless in a crowded room or extreme discomfort at the thought of extended eye-contact. How on earth could she understand.
We wheel our bikes into the garage and I slink back to my room, my fingers craving the distraction my music can provide. I sit in front of the old piano, the only nice piece of furniture in my room but my most prized.
My fingers run up and down the keys and I sigh, feeling the muscles in my back relax. My fingers pause and I stretch my neck side to side, pulling my arms out flamboyantly as I get ready to play.
A small smile creeps onto my face as my fingers fluidly move through the keys that I know by heart. My eyes flutter shut, not needing to be open to see the music. As I play, I only think of her.
Every song I play, I play for her. She moves through music so fluidly that it doesn't seem real and I aspire to play so softly, so smoothly that it might one day be worthy of her. My eyes crack open, watching my fingers fly across the keys, doing the only thing that they do well.
The door creaks and I stop abruptly, momentarily angry at whoever disturbed my moment. My head snaps towards the door but my anger melts away instantly when I see my mother peeking in apologetically.
"I'm sorry, Kit, it was beautiful." She says meekly. My mother and I are more similar than I like to admit. Her facial features are small and soft, but her wild dark eyes are reflected through my sister and I. She's a strong woman but is timid conversationally, just like me.
"It's not quite perfect." I mutter, not content with the result of my practise.
"It sounded perfect to me." She insists, coming in further to perch on the stool next to me. I smile at the unwavering pride in her voice.
"Thanks mum." I murmur, leaning my head on her shoulder.
"You were quiet this weekend, are you okay?" She asks lightly and I hesitate for a moment. In some moments I feel completely and utterly hopeless but in other moments, I feel light and utterly complete. No, I am not okay.
"I'm fine."
She sighs and nods, turning to kiss my forehead quickly.
"Okay. Your dad and I are away this weekend for our anniversary, will you two be okay while we're away?" She asks and I roll my eyes.
"I think we'll survive the weekend, Mum." I murmur and she chuckles.
"Alright," She says, getting up and wandering to the door.
"Oh, Kit, Saskia wants to have some friends round for a sleepover on Saturday. You'll keep an eye on them won't you?" She asks, lingering by the doorway with concern clouding her expression.
"Of course, Mum. Although I think you overestimate the trouble that a bunch of teenage girls can cause." I say, and she smiles coyly.
"Oh, just you wait, Kit." She says, walking away laughing.
I frown uneasily and the lid of the piano slides from my fingers, clattering shut.
The week crawls by slowly, more slowly than normal but I keep my mind busy, replaying my most recent memories of my soulmate.
It's a strange sensation, being so wrapped up with a girl I hardly know. She stole every romantic urge and sexual impulse for anyone else the day that I first saw her, and now she's all I think about. Anything else feels almost...repulsive.
I wipe my palms against my jeans unconsciously, not paying attention to the film on tv. My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of feet racing down the stairs. I lift my head just in time to see Saskia fly out the front door, one of her trainers on her feet and the other dangling by the laces in her hand.
A glance at my watch tells me that she's running more than a little late for her dance class, which is unusual. Kia's never late for dance. She's late for just about everything else, granted, but never for dance.
I try and turn my attention back to the film but decide that it is utterly futile. I have no idea what the plot line is and it's already forty minutes in. I turn it off with a huff and fall back against the back of the sofa, staring at the ceiling.
My mum peeks into my line of vision and grins sheepishly. Her short hair is just the same style as my sister's, but a dark blonde instead of black.
"Would you do me a favour, Kit?" She asks, holding up Saskia's ballet shoes. My mouth quirks upwards at the thought of Kia forgetting her dance shoes and I chuckle to myself, nodding. I take the shoes and slide my trainers on, grabbing my keys as I go.
The dance studio is only a 10 minute cycle, and I enjoy it. Only when I arrive does my heart flutter and I realise why almost immediately. The girl that I can't get out of my head is in there, and never before will I have been as close to her as I will be right now.
I glance at the delicate dance shoes in my grasp, neatly wrapped up in a mesh bag. Saskia needs these, which means I have to go in. I'll keep my head down, I'll go in, give them to her and leave. It'll be fine.
I take a few deep breaths, cursing how ridiculous this feeling is. It's difficult to feel like a man when every single social interaction terrifies you. I click my knuckles against my palm and take a shaky breath, pushing the door open.
My momentary bravery is lost in an instant and I move slowly towards the studios at the back. Classical music is echoing down the hall and I move towards it. The door at the end of the corridor has a thin window and I peek through it cautiously, holding my breath as I do so.
My eyes zero in on her almost instantly, finding her without any conscious effort. She smiles and stretches and does nothing out of the ordinary or at all interesting and yet she is all-encompassing.
I close my eyes abruptly, leaning my head against the wall in despair. This is why I only let myself have that one day, that one day to see her where I can pretend that she's real. Pretend that she's the future that I am working towards, and after that day, I wake up. I go back to my life which is worlds away from hers. I go back to a life where she is a mere fantasy, where the only place she haunts me is my dreams.
This is too much, this is too real.
I exhale shakily, running a hand through my hair haphazardly as I resist the urge to sink to the floor. I think that would be a new level of low, both metaphorically and literally.
"Kit? Finally, Mum texted me 15 minutes ago and I thought you'd never get here!" Kia's voice interrupts, startling me.
"I uh, didn't want to interrupt." I murmur, gesturing towards the class but not daring to look up, into the classroom that is now open to me. I gently step back, away from their curious gazes.
"Thank you for dropping these off, I don't know where my head was at this afternoon!" She exclaims nervously and I frown. Kia isn't usually this ditzy.
"Are you alright, Kia?" I ask quietly, my hand reaching towards her without my consent. I wrap my hand around her shoulder and she leans into it, her expression falling into one I can't instantly recognise.
She takes a breath and smiles, nodding slowly.
"I'll be fine." She says firmly and I nod, retracting my hand. She darts forwards suddenly and wraps me in a hug before prancing back into the studio.
"Thank you, Kit!" She yells over her shoulder and I roll my eyes, shaking my head as I turn away, thoroughly embarrassed by her antics. That's the last time I'll ever be dropping anything off.
I climb onto my bike, pleased that I survived this slightly social outing but very pleased that I am now returning home.
As I pedal I smile, relieved that this week is finally over. The weekend is my time to unwind, away from the forced social interactions of the week. The unrelenting pressure of school that makes me sweat and the stares that make my heart race. At home I am safe from it all and I can relax, I can unapologetically be myself.
I grin in anticipation. I can't wait for this weekend.
_
A/N oops, sorry, I seem to have missed an update or two. I will be better!
In other news, my personal life is falling apart. How is yours going?