"Wake up!" I mumble in my sleep in annoyance at the voice disturbing me. "Wake up, Graham."
"Leave me alone," I mutter and turn around to be more comfortable.
Two seconds pass and I fall back again into the peacefulness of slumber. But said peacefulness is short-lived when I'm yanked and propped up to my feet. Disoriented, I sway on my legs like a drunk person and try to adjust my vision to the living world around me.
My eyes settle on a Yann who's sporting an expression made of both sleepiness and annoyance. His fingers are wrapped tightly around my wrists and he's trying to steady me. "Quite awake now?"
It takes me a minute to be remotely lucid and when I do, I jerk my wrist away from his hands. "That's how you wake up people?"
He rolls his eyes. "Goodnight, Graham."
And he turns around. Pissed off, I grab a fistful of his ponytail and yank his hair back. But as my mind is still foggy from the remnants of sleep, I stumble over my feet as I hear Yann's what the fuck before I fall on my back.
I close my eyes and wait for the pain to shot through my skull when it hits the concrete but it doesn't. Instead, I fall into the pool, water entering my mouth without my consent. My elbows hit the bottom of the pool before I resurface.
"Are you always that fucking childish?" Now the sleepiness and annoyance are gone from his face.
I try to breathe as I tread water, struggling with the sleep in my eyes. I manage to swim my way to the edge of the pool and prop myself out. I let my body fall on the grass and close my eyes.
I steady the beats of my heart, I chase away the fear I've felt, and I breathe. When I open my eyes, Yann is staring down at me. His hair forms a nice halo around his sharp face – I probably yanked his hairband out – and as I wish I could touch his hair, I realize I've just had. I try to grasp the fragments of memory, trying to recall how his hair felt between my fingers. Soft and silky, as always. Just like yesterday when I kissed him – or two days ago, rather, since it's already morning now.
"Why are you smiling?"
I think I smile even wider at his question. "Your hair." His expression seems to say, what about my hair? so I continue, "It's nice." I think I've already complimented him on his hair once but in my sleepy state, I cannot remember.
"Is that why you pulled it like that?" His voice is incredulous, as if he cannot believe I really did that.
I shake my head no, feeling tired from the talk. "What time is it?"
He helps me sit up when I reach out to him, and then up on my feet. "Almost 3 AM. You're wet, go change and go to bed."
I look at him for a moment, forgetting my shivering body in my damp clothing. "You want to know what I wish for the most in the world right now?"
"No."
His answer is expected but it does not deter me. "That you shave that God-awful beard one day," I blurt out.
I start stumbling again then as he rushes to catch him, I think I hear him mumble. "Fuck, I think I prefer you drunk."
He sets me up straight and once he's sure I can stand by myself, he lets go. Then, with one last look my way, he says, "In another life, Graham. Maybe."
And I let him walk away, not because I have nothing to say, but because I know my words have triggered something inside of him, for I saw that forlorn look on his face a fraction of second before he turned.
***
When I wake up the next morning, Lucy is still in bed and Ellie is already out. She spends all her time with James and I barely get to see her. I miss her, really, but she seems to like James so who am I to take that from her?
Donning a jogging outfit, I prepare to round the neighborhood and burn some calories. I am such a lazy person that my jogging only occurs when I feel like it. No matter how many times I rebuke myself, saying that I should be more regular in this, I never do.
Half an hour later, I'm sweating and going back home. I stop at Yann's house, hoping to talk to him or maybe plan a day together but the look he gives me when he opens the door and the way he talks totally deter me and I just head back home.
When I enter the house, I go straight to the kitchen only to find Lucy standing in front of the stove, eyeing it carefully. "You weren't trying to use it, were you?"
My voice startles her and she jumps in fright, her eyes wide and her mouth opened. But she quickly recovers, "I wasn't!" She screams defensively.
I can't chase away the feeling I have that Lucy is pyromaniac. She likes kitchens too much and that's only because of stoves. She is always eying them weirdly, trying to use them. I'm scared that one day I'll come back from college and have a phone call telling me that my house burned down. I'd know immediately that Lucy would be behind the fire. She loves fire. I don't know why.
"I'm going to ignore that. What do you want for breakfast?" I ask her as I already start taking out utensils.
"Can I go to Matt's? The house is boring."
I give her an apologetic smile and shrug. "I know. We'll live through it."
"You're boring, too."
My eyes broaden at her indelicacy and I wonder why I am even surprised. "Well, thank you. Go get dressed and go to Matt's. I don't want to see you."
Instead of hurting her, my words seem to be the only thing she's wanted to hear since I stepped foot into this room. Five minutes later, Lucy is down, dressed in a cute summer dress and flat sandals. I watch as she crosses the street to go to Matt's without a thing such as a wave to say goodbye. I wave to Matt's mom from my door and wait, making sure that Lucy is inside before closing the door.
"Alone. And bored."
After I shower, I think of what to do today. Usually, a little French literature would lift my mood, but today, no can do. I feel like I should lie in bed all day and sleep, but I know I cannot do that. I'd get restless at some point and it would only worsen my mood.
Just as I plan to go take a nap – just a nap – my phone rings in my sweatpants. I smile as I see the caller ID.
"Are you pleased to hear my voice?" His own voice says on the receiver, humor lacing his words.
"Maybe. I'm bored outta my mind here."
I hear Will's light laughter on the other side before he says, "Can I pick you up in a few?"
I frown. "Don't you have work?"
"Rest of the week off," he explains. "Picking you up in ten, be ready."
I barely have time to change because true to his words, ten minutes later Will parks his truck in front of my house. He greets me with a warm smile, his brown eyes glinting, happy to see me. I get in the passenger side and smile at him. We hug like old friends who haven't seen each other in ages.
"I missed you," I tell him when we pull away.
He lifts a playful eyebrow up. "Aww, I missed you too, Sissy," he coos. I roll my eyes at his mocking voice and he says, "Buckle up."
"Sir, yes, sir." He looks at me oddly when I say the words, a frown settling on his forehead. "What?" I question as I sit.
He shakes his head, shaking a memory out of his head and the frown disappears. "Nothing. Just nothing."
I look at him in worry for a moment then let it go. "Where are we going?" I ask once we're out of the driveway.
He throws a mischievous glance my way. "Somewhere."
I let my head rest against the rolled-up window. I try not to think too much, especially about Yann last night. About his fingertips touching the side of my face, about my shivering which had nothing to do with the coolness of the night, about how badly I wanted to kiss him again. Yes, I try not to think especially of those things but the more I try to push them out of my mind, the more they come back.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the truck stops. I realize we are near the woods but I don't recognize that part. I've never been there before. We get out of the car and before I can say a word, Will puts both his hands on my eyes.
"What's that for?" I laugh and try to remove his hands but they remain glued where they are.
Will doesn't answer and simply leads the way with both his hands on my eyes. I can't stop laughing every time I trip over a rock or my own feet, but thankfully Will doesn't let me fall. I know he won't.
"Why are you laughing so much?"
I sober up a little and give him a shrug. "I don't know." I tell him truthfully.
We keep quiet for a moment. His palms are against my eyelids, his chest close to my back as we walk. He gently pushes me forward, warning me to lift my leg higher or to step aside. I tell him to remove his hands and I'll close my eyes, that way he could lead me more easily. But he says he doesn't trust me not to peek. We fall back into silence and I try to listen for any familiar sounds. But besides the chirping of the birds and our soles on twigs, I pick up nothing.
"You're quiet." He points out after a while.
"Just thinking."
"About Yann again?"
It surprises me a little that he says that but I remember that during most of our time together, I'm always frowning or thinking about something related to Yann. "No, not this time."
"What is it this time, then? Careful," he says, "step to the right."
"Nothing important," I reply once I'm steady. "Are we there yet?"
"Almost."
"What time is it?"
"Almost 1pm. I think I preferred it when you were quiet."
I roll my eyes as I recall the time when Yann had asked me why I talked so much. Am I really that talkative? I was never aware of it; no one in my family ever said anything to me nor did Ellie. Maybe I should shut it after all, this way I won't hear people pointing out the same thing all the time.
My ears catch the sound of falling water, my nostrils the smell of green nature. "Will, can –"
"Ever wondered where the river ended?" For a moment, I'm speechless and Will takes this as my answer. "Come on, we're almost there."
I am filled with sudden excitement as I am dying to see where The Gate River ends. I've never really paid much attention to that detail, the water flowing by in our town was enough to me with its beauty and the peacefulness of the woods surrounding it. Being about to discover its end stirs something inside of me.
I can't count how many times I ask Will if we're there yet but he doesn't get tired of answering with a no. He must know I am feeling a little giddy inside.
"There we go."
And before I can ask him if he can take off his hands, he does. And I open my eyes.
To the right, a limpid water rolls down and to the left, a smaller one, but still big flows down and the both of them disappear in one another. I can see the slippery rocks covered with moss underneath the transparent water; it softly slides over their surface, creating a slight shimmer under the rays of the sun.
"I feel like it's more beautiful than back where we usually hang out." I whisper as I take in the perfect mingle of the two streams.
"It is."
I turn around to find Will taking in the sight in front of him with amazement on his features. He must have come to this place hundreds of times and still the magic of it all seems to take his breath away as if it were the first time.
He turns around and catches me staring. "You're supposed to be staring at the water and nature, not at me." He chuckles.
Without a word of denial or such, I return my gaze back to where it is supposed to be. The ground is rocky beneath my feet but I still find a place where to sit. I bring my legs up, resting my chin on my knees. Will sits next to me, in the same position, doing the same as me.
I have no idea how long we stay there, together, that way. I can never tell how fast or how slow times flies when I am in Will's company. I lose track of time for I am too happy, too at ease in his presence. Everything is uncomplicated, simple. I like it. I joyously bask in the feeling of safety and warmth he provides, like only a best friend could.
I turn my head to him, and smile. When he catches me staring and asks what, I reply with, "You're my best friend, you know that?"
He looks surprised for a moment, like it's the last thing he expected to hear. He puts a hand over his heart in fake outrage. "Are you only finding that out? I thought we've been best friends for years."
I laugh at him and bump my shoulder with and he laughs with me. "No, I mean it." I say once I've sobered up.
His eyes soften and he pulls me to him and I lie down, head in his lap, staring at the blue sky overhead. "You're my best friend too, T."
***
As I walk in the backyard that same night unable to sleep whereas Ellie and Lucy have long gone to seep, I fail to remember the ride back home, or how I ever even got in Will's truck. I don't remember any of it, the magic ended the moment we lost sight of the nature – a moment which I cannot remember – and everything after that is a blur, almost as if I was suffering from the remnants of a drug and couldn't get anything into focus. I barely recall getting Lucy back from Matt's and buying us a pizza before putting her to bed.
But I do remember the time spent mostly in silence next to Will. No word needed to be spoken. The nature said it all for us. As a poem by Victor Hugo in his collection "Les Contemplations" says, even a pebble has something to say. According to this poem, God put the faculty of language in everything on this earth; it's not because we, humans, don't understand it that the ocean or the wind doesn't talk. That's, to put it roughly, what he says.
I spin around on the grass, arms out wide, unable to sleep with the feeling inhabiting me. I don't know why but I feel happier than I've had in a while.
"And you're gonna tell me you don't like Will that way?"
I briskly spin on my heels to meet Yann who is casually walking towards me. I stand, rooted to the spot, petrified with my heart racing in my chest. It's dark, only the light of the moon illuminating the small backyard, and his voice resounds powerfully through the silent evening.
I slow down the unbridled race of my heart to a steadier beat. "Are you gonna stop with that?" I ask, irritated.
He shrugs, nonchalant as he comes to a stop right in front of me but doesn't look at me. "Not until you admit it."
"Admit what, Yann? That I like Will?" I ask incredulously.
"I love when people are honest, especially with themselves." I hate the way his eyes are boring into mine, confident, arrogant.
I laugh at him, not really meaning to come off as insensitive but it's exactly what it looks like. "Says the guy who can't even be honest with himself," I snap at him. "I do not like Will. Just get it through your thick skull, Yann."
"Then why are you always hanging out with him?"
"I'm not always hanging out with him."
"You were today," he points out.
I take a step closer towards him. "That's only because you," I say with a jab of my index finger, "shut me out this morning when I went to see you. So don't say that I'm always hanging out with Will because I'm not."
He doesn't acknowledge my words and instead goes back to something I've said earlier. "So I'm not honest with myself?"
I'm caught off guard for a moment but recover. "No, you're not. You're hiding behind this thick layer of varnish."
"I prefer to hide than to be out in the open and pretend to be someone that I am not."
"No," and I find myself poking his chest forcefully as I take another step forward, "it's when you hide that you are no longer yourself for you're always looking left and right and behind your back to make sure you're well hidden. You lose yourself by losing your habits, your interests and the smallest things that brought you joy. That's when you are someone that you are not." And I punctuate every statement with a jab of my forefinger in his chest.
"You don't–"
"No, I'm not done." Another jab. "I hate that you open up only to shut me out. What's with the mercurial attitude? Sometimes I swear, all you want to do is get on my nerves."
"I do." He says as he catches my forefinger just as I am going to hit him once more. "It's very entertaining to see you worked up."
As I catch the amused glint in his eyes, my irritation grows tenfold. "You are –"
He suddenly leans in, his mouth to my ear as he says, "I love to hear what you have to say, especially when you're upset. And just because I don't agree with what you say doesn't mean I don't listen or understand what you say."
And he leans back. He keeps my finger in his, looks at me with an expression I've never seen before on his face. It's not the curious stare he gives me sometimes. His features are soft, relaxed. And as always when I stare too long at him, the urgent need to shave him crawls to my mind and it literally itches me not to be able to satisfy this need. I hate not being able to see him.
"Is that how you stare at Will?" He asks out of nowhere.
His words break the small spell. "Oh, stop, would you! You're getting annoying with that. You sound like a jealous ex-boyfriend."
I don't bother looking at him. Saying those words is very inappropriate when it comes to Yann. I know, deep in my heart, that Yann will never be a boyfriend, no matter how much I like him. I hate that I like him.
"Where's Lucy?" The tone of his voice changes to a grave one and I wonder why.
"Sleeping in our room. Why?"
He doesn't seem to need any more explanation to start dragging me behind him, holding my small fingers in his large ones. "Let's go to mine."
I plant my feet firmly on the ground, still annoyed with him. "I'm not going anywhere. Plus I'm tired. If you want to give me a piggyback ride, that's fine with me."
Of course, I mean it as a joke but Yann takes my words seriously. Before I know it, he bends a little, his back to me. "Hop on," he says and I stay, baffled, staring at his back. "Come on, Graham. I don't have all night."
As his words sink in, I don't hesitate and climb onto his back. I don't really need him to carry me, I lied when I said I was tired. I am, however, not going to pass the opportunity to have a piggyback ride from Yann. I snake my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. His arms come around to hold my legs firmly into place and he starts walking.
I smile to myself and let my head rest on his shoulder. I feel him tense for a moment before he relaxes. His hair hangs dangerously close to my face and I can't help it, I untangle an arm from his neck and reach for his hair. Soft and silky, as always. It smells good, filling my nostrils with a wonderful scent.
"You need to stop that weird obsession with my hair, Graham," he says but there's no annoyance in his voice.
My smile grows wider but I remain silent. We walk the ten minutes to his house in silence, me breathing in his hair like a creep. Even as he pushes his front door open and closes it, I stay on his back. He walks into the living room and stops. That's my cue to get down but I am too comfortable and don't want to.
"Get down," he say, voice firm but nice.
"No," I say and hug him tighter. Why am I feeling childish and playful right now?
"Tracy," he says and I hear the warning in his voice.
I do decide to get down but his tone doesn't chase the happy feeling bubbling in my chest. And I do something even I don't understand. I kiss his neck. It's swift and spontaneous, encouraged by the unexplainable giddiness I feel at having had a piggyback ride from him. I feel him tense against me and what I've done suddenly hits me.
Slowly, I slide down and untangle my limbs from him. I step back a little and look everywhere but at him. Where did that come from?
"What was that for?"
When I don't answer him, he comes closer and lifts my chin so I'm looking at him. With an arched eyebrow, he presses me for an answer. "I don't know," I whisper.
I see his eyes flick briefly to my lips but he looks away immediately. It doesn't even last a second, but my heart doesn't need that long to start beating more furiously. I wish I could tune down my feelings like I tune down the volume of a radio. It's not that easy.
"Why did you bring me here?" I ask after a moment.
He lets go of my chin and instead of providing me with an answer, he comes behind me and pushes me before the piano. He places me on the stool and stands by the side of the instrument, looking at me.
When I look up to him in question, all he says is, "Play."
•••
Gahh, she got a piggy back ride. I don't know about you but I love them lol
I hope you guys liked this chapter as much as I did❤️