Nothing from Andrew's behaviour the following days let room for suspicions he was the boy at the edge of the forest. Had Ferry mistaken him? Was the tiredness of that day making him see things? But then, who were the two persons in the forest and what were they up to?
At home, no matter how much he tried, things couldn't get back to normal. He thought that, for everyone's sake, he should accept Andrew as a Donovan and got on with his life. But something was always stopping him. Small things, seemingly unimportant which wouldn't let him at peace. Like the strange sensation that someone was watching him wherever he was; like a cold breath in the back of his head.
Yet it wasn't just that. For a while, he's been noticing things in his room changing their places. For instance, a small statue, the shape of a bird, placed on the first shelf of his bookcase was now on the second shelf. Or a book which was not in line with the others. The flowerpot in the window. Or the small carpet in front of the bed, moved a few inches from its place. Or the bet pushed closer to the wall. He asked his mother if she had cleaned his room that day and she said no. So he decided to leave marks — small pieces of paper to keep his wardrobe's door shut, and chalk marks on the floor in front of his bedposts.
That day, when he came home from school, he found the pieces of papers on the floor, a sign somebody had been searching in his wardrobe. His bed was moved from its place again. He hotheadedly went out of his room in search of Andrew. He found him in his father's workshop. The two were laughing as they were working on a shelf for the pantry.
"Have you been to my room?" Ferry asked Andrew as soon as he entered the workshop.
"No..." he answered, frowning. "Why would I do that?"
"I don't know," Ferry replied, furious of Andrew's calmness, "maybe because you are looking for something," he said, and he took a step closer. The two boys were now face to face.
"Why would I need something from your room?" he laughed, throwing a meaningful glance at Peter as if Ferry was out of his mind. Meanwhile, he was playing with the iron chisel right under Ferry's nose.
"I don't know..." said Ferry, feeling he was lacking the air. "I don't know what your intentions are, but you are up to something..."
It was now Peter's turn to interfere, "Listen, boy, I don't know what you're implying, but whatever that is, you're wrong. All Andrew ever did was treating you nice ever since he's come here. And I'm asking you to behave when it's about him. Or else..."
Ferry didn't wait for his father to finish. He stormed out the workshop breathing heavily.
The next day was Saturday. Ferry overslept which it wasn't in his nature. For whatever reason, he was oversleeping lately, waking up even more tired than before. When he came down to breakfast, he noticed everyone was already awoken.
Peter looked nervous.
"Your father misplaced some money," his mother explained to him.
"There isn't just some money," he roared. "They are my life savings!"
"Savings I knew nothing about," his mother continued just as calm.
"Do you know something about that, boy?" Peter asked Ferry looking him dead in the eye.
Ferry felt the blood rushing to his head. "No," he simply replied. "Why don't you ask Andrew?"
Andrew, who all this time has been quietly eating from his bread and butter, shrugged.
"Why would I need money when I have everything I've ever wanted?" he said, taking another bite.
"Then I guess you've got nothing against searching your room," Peter said, a smirk on his face.
"Be my guest," Ferry snapped back at him and got out the kitchen.
"Ferry, dear, breakfast," he could hear his mother's voice behind. But he already got out the house's gate.
*
Ferry wandered the town all day long. He wanted to see May. The fact that he could see her every day at school made all the changes in his life bearable. But on the weekends, the girl rarely went out of her house. He knew she loved to spend time in her room, reading or painting. Sometimes, she was visited by her friend, Rebecca, and Steph, Ben's girlfriend.
He was now watching her in her father's flower shop from across the street. She was making flower arrangements and offered them to the customers, always with the smile on her face.
Late in the afternoon, when the customers were fewer, Ferry summoned the courage and entered the flower shop.
"Hello, Ferry," May's father greeted him. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, Mr.Flower, thank you."
"Please, call me Basil," he said, smiling at him. "Are you looking for May? She's in the back. You may go in," he added, picking up a big basket of flowers.
Ferry entered the door behind the counter and discovered a small storage room for flower pots, baskets, and boxes. May was arranging flowers without noticing him coming in. He slowly touched her shoulder, and the girl throbbed at his touch. She turned, and her eyes smiled at his sight.
"Ferry, what are you doing here?" she asked.
"I was just passing by," he lied. "And I wanted to say hello."
"Well, hello then," she said, warmly smiling as she always did.
"Actually," said Ferry gathering his courage, "I was on the way to the grocery. And I was wondering if you'd like to join me. I have something to buy for my Mom. And maybe we could have some candy apples... And have a walk in the square..."
He fussed. If he had had red blood, he would 've probably blushed. But now, all he could do was stammering. It was for the first time when he was asking a girl out. But he noticed May's smile fading.
"I'm sorry," she said, keeping her gaze away from his. "But I'm tired... And I still have to work at the flower shop..."
Ferry forced a smile, "It's all right," he rushed to answer. "Maybe some other time... Now I have to go. My Mom is waiting so..."
"Sure..." said May, forcing herself to smile.
Ferry rushed to leave the storage room, stumbling upon several boxes on his way and turning them over. He almost bumped into May's mother.
"Ferry... Leaving so soon?" she wondered.
He smiled awkwardly and mumbled an excuse. Then, stormed out the flower shop without even saying goodbye.
*
That autumn afternoon, Ferry and Matilda were heading towards the meadow near Lavender's cottage. They were looking for hazelnut twigs for Matilda's brother's kite. The Fires in the Hills celebration was coming and Matilda was determined to make Finn a winner. It was his first competition, and they had to have the best kite.
The sunlight was gentle and somehow cold, splitting into spears of white light that scattered here and there over the little meadow at the foot of the hill. The wild grass that had grown freely was reaching over their waist. Matilda was laughing, letting her body being tickled by the thin stems that were touching her legs. Thistles were clinging at her skirt and socks but she didn't care.
Ferry caressed the spiky tips of grass with his palm making his way through the thicket. He could watch the sky with his eyes wide open, now that the sun was more soft-hearted. It was deep blue and painted with thin, white clouds stretching in layers until far away. The clouds were carried by wings of wind, casting long shadows over the field and the two young hearts. When the sun was coming out of the clouds, the girl was sheltering her eyes with her hand, looking into the distance at the hill ahead.
When they reached the clump of hazelnut trees, Matilda laid down on the grass, sheltered by the shadow of the branches. She closed her eyes, with a smile on her lips. Ferry joined her, watching the sun playing on her face, making her freckles shine like drops of dew. And for the first time, Ferry thought how different she was from May. How life was running through her veins, breathing through all her pores. And how lucky he was to always have her beside him.
Now, she was breathing the smell of fall spreading over the hills. Ferry picked a straw and tickled her face. Matilda chased away the tickle without opening her eyes. Then, feeling the tickle again, she opened one eye and rose to one side, leaning on her elbow.
"Stop it, Ferry," she said, pretending to be upset, though her eyes said the opposite. "You'd better tell me how was your day instead."
Ferry threw the straw away and laid on his back. "There's nothing much to tell. It wasn't a good day..."
"Why? What happened?"
"Let's just say I'm now the thief of the house. And one of my friends was not in the mood to see me today."
A short pause followed when only the wind spoke, rustling through the tall grass.
"Were you to see May?" Matilda softly asked.
Ferry didn't answer. He knew Matilda never liked May without ever existing a real reason. They were just too different.
"You can tell me," she added with a low voice. "I've seen the way you look at her..."
Ferry also sat up. He looked at Matilda through the thin blades of grass, and he saw her big, brown eyes on him.
"The thing is... I don't know how to behave when she's around. I don't know what to say or what to do... Today, I wanted to ask her on a date."
"You can't do that!" she snapped at him. Ferry saw her frowning.
"Why?"
Matilda fussed, "I mean, you can't go on a date unprepared. What if you must kiss her at the end?"
Ferry laughed, "I'm sure May is not the type to be kissed on the first date."
"Fine, but what if she's been kissed before? You haven't. You're going to make a complete fool of yourself."
It was Ferry's turn to wonder, "You think she's been kissed before?"
Matilda looked confident, "It is possible. What if it was someone from the Big City? She's spending every summer there. What if she has someone in that city?"
Ferry was speechless. He never thought of that.
"Do you think she's having someone?"
Matilda shrugged, "I don't know... But I think she has a secret. How come she's never telling you what she's doing in the Big City? What if that sick aunt of hers doesn't even exist?"
Ferry shook his head, "May would never lie to me. She's the kindest, most sincere person I've ever met. She's an open book."
"Ha!" Matilda snapped. "Nobody is an open book. And you, my friend, have to learn how to read between the lines."
Ferry turned nervous. The wind made the grass caress their faces but also be a barrier between them.
"All right," said Ferry, "let's just say she's been kissed before. What can I do so I won't completely make a fool of myself?"
Matilda didn't look at him. Instead, she was looking at the tip of her dusty shoe.
"Well... I suppose I could teach you..." she said in a low voice, playing with a blade of grass.
"You?!" laughed Ferry. "Since when do you know how to kiss?"
Matilda pouted. "I'm sixteen-years-old," she snapped. "I've known how to kiss for years."
Ferry found it hard to believe. He pulled aside the grass between them so he could better see her face. He knew Matilda was a master in lying. Now, they were sitting one in front of each other with the wind playing in their hair.
"And who kissed you if you don't mind me asking?"
"Danny Stevens," she said as if to spite him.
"Danny Stevens?" he almost shouted. "When? How?"
Matilda blushed, "There are a lot of things you don't know about me," she snapped back at him and got up, walking towards Lavender's cottage, looking determined.
Ferry also got up and rushed to reach her. He slowly grabbed her arm to make her stop on her way. "I'm sorry," he said. "I supposed Danny is a nice guy since you let him be the first to kiss you."
"He really is," she nodded. "He's just... not my type," she added, looking aside.
Ferry looked at the red sun that was about to set.
"Would you teach me how to kiss?" he softly said. "I learn fast," he smiled.
Matilda took a deep breath.
"Fine. Sit!" she said, looking very serious.
"Why?" Ferry wondered.
Matilda rolled her eyes, "You're too tall and I can't reach," she cut him short.
Ferry complied. He sat on the spiky grass with his legs crossed. It wasn't the most comfortable place for kissing, that was for sure. Matilda sat in front of him, on her knees.
"Now, close your eyes!" she ordered.
Ferry did as told. Then, he waited. Nothing happened. He opened one eye, and he saw Matilda watching him.
"Could you please hurry, Matt? It's getting late."
"Fine!" she said, pouting again. "Stop talking! And close back your eyes!"
Ferry sighed and closed his eyes. He then felt Matilda's fingers on his lips. There were warm, small touches dripping on his lips; as if she was measuring them inch by inch with the tip of her fingers.
He then felt her hot lips pressing against his lips. They smelled like milk, cookies, and summer rain. He could feel the tip of her tongue slowly touching his. His breath sped up, just as the beatings of his heart. And he kissed her back. It felt natural. Simple and beautiful. He could feel her lips firm as if he was tasting a strawberry that just ripened under the first touch of the summer sun. Her warm fingers were touching his neck, giving him shivers all over his body. He couldn't tell for how long they were kissing. He felt his lips were starting to swell and hurt, but for some reason, he couldn't stop. He didn't want to. He never thought kissing could feel so good. Suddenly, Matilda stopped and retreated from the kiss. When Ferry opened his eyes, it was already dark. He got up and helped her stand up, too. He was holding her hand.
He saw Matilda quiet which it wasn't in her nature. He thought he must say something.
"Thanks, Matt! You're the best friend I could ever wish for..." he said, smiling.
He felt her hand slowly pulling out of his grip. Her eyes were sad.
"Sure," she said, putting on a smile that wasn't hers. "What are friends for?"
"We should go," he said, dusting off his clothes. "I'm going to have trouble at home if we don't. It's late already."
But Matilda didn't flinch.
"I'll stay for a little while. I still haven't found branches for Finn's kite."
"Are you sure?" Ferry asked.
Matilda nodded, then she made her way through the grass back to the hazelnut trees.
Ferry didn't wait any longer. He rushed home. He wanted to ask Matilda how was he doing with kissing, but thought he would ask her some other time. That's when he heard something that made him stop and listen. Was it a whisper? A sigh? A sob? He couldn't tell. The night was quiet. Only the wind was rustling through the grass. Ferry shrugged and carried on. Thinking about how amazing would have felt to kiss May...
Well, what do you think? How do you see Ferry and Matilda's relationship in the future? Let me know in the comments. Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have readers like you? ;)