by O. E. Boroni
He was dressed just like me with our house’s white jumper, and dark jeans. He also had what looked to be a small white cake box in his hands, and his backpack was slung over his shoulder. He offered his hand when he reached me and I held it to pull myself up, but ended up being too close to him.
“How long have you been here?” he asked. I decided to exaggerate.
“Two hours,” I answered. He just stared at me.
“You’re lying,” he said after a few seconds, and turned to slot in the key
“What makes you think that?” I asked, and moved inside after he pushed the door open. He shut it behind me and handed the box over, then went ahead to pull the rug aside. He opened the trap door, and then stood up to face me.
“Let’s just say I know when you’re lying.”
For some reason, my heart fluttered.
“Well, that’s just not true,” I said, but he ignored my response, and moved on to the topic that I’d hoped that he wouldn’t bring up.
“You gave me the impression that you weren’t going to be here today,” he said. It sounded like an accusation.
“Well I changed my mind.”
He didn’t say anything else, and I didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry at him. I wanted so badly to know what was going through his head.
Taking the box from me, he headed down the trap door while I waited until I was certain that he had reached the ground, before I followed. I was about midway through when I felt one of his arms encircle my waist, and lift me off the ladder.
It was startling and unsettling, but not until he had placed me on the ground did I complain.
“I can take care of myself,” I said, my voice bouncing off the tunnel walls, creating an echo.
“Probably,” he said in a lower tone. “However I don't want to spend forever down here, because just in case you haven't noticed, this tunnel is kind of creepy."
“That's exactly what I thought when I first came here," I said, pleased that my initial fright had been validated. "I thought I was going to get eaten or something."
He switched on a flashlight and shone it directly in my face. "So even though you were terrified, it didn’t occur to you to return to school?”
I squinted against the rays and swiped at it to get him to move it away. Taking my hand, he started to lead me through the tunnel, and I couldn’t resist the smile that came to my face.
“Do you know how this tunnel came about?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he replied. “The soldiers used it during World War I.”
“Now I’m even more terrified. So the school knows about it?”
“Of course they do. It’s just been ignored, I assume.”
“So how did you find it?”
“I searched for it. I read about its history and found it at the end of last term when I came down with James to sort out some storage inventory.”
“So he doesn’t know about it?”
“No. No one was supposed to,’ he said, and with his hand on the small of my back and an accusatory look in his eyes, he led me forward until we reached the end of the tunnel.
We emerged outside and into the forest, then immediately began our walk towards the stream. It was a warm day as the bright sun shot its rays through the openings the trees provided. So although there was a slight chill in the air, the breeze was warm enough to be accommodating.
"How many times have you been here?” I asked, when I saw how confidently he made his way through parts I could barely remember.
"I spend most days after school here … and sometimes during school." he answered.
It explained why I never saw him – he was never in school.
We arrived at the stream, and for a few seconds I even forgot he was with me. It was just as breathtaking as it had been the first time, and as I rushed over to the rocky banks, he yelled out to me to be careful.
Finding my way over to the huge rock that I’d sat on last time, I removed my tennis shoes and socks, rolled up my jeans, and lowered myself onto it. The rush of the clear water was powerful today, and as I watched it hiss along the beautiful array of rocks and plants that threatened to hold it at bay, I couldn’t remember ever feeling more peaceful. It was fascinating enough to hold my attention for a few minutes but soon, my eyelids began to grow heavy. Nathan’s sharp call however, snapped me out of it.
I looked up to see what he wanted but when I couldn't see him, I left the rock and made my way to the land. He had spread a blanket on the ground, close to a massive tree and was sitting, his ankles crossed and his back against the trunk. He had a book on his lap, and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses sitting on the crook of his nose. When he saw me approaching, he slipped a bookmark between the pages he was currently on, and then closed the book to rest it by his side.
“I didn’t know you used glasses,” I said as I reached him, and crossed my legs to land softly on the blanket. I would have never considered myself to have ‘a thing’ for glasses, at least not until now, but with the way they framed his beautiful eyes, I knew that a fetish for dark rims had just been planted in my heart. As well as a fetish for silliness, I added, appalled at the thoughts that were popping up in my head.
He just smiled in response, and dragged his backpack towards him. He brought out a little black bag, and unzipped it to retrieve a cutlery cloth roll. Next, he got out a small pack of cake candles and a lighter, before he took off the lid to the box.
I was rendered speechless as I watched; the loud chirping of the birds above us, and the increasing pace of my heart thumping in my ears as he started to stick the candles in a whipped cream cake, decked with strawberries and with the message- HBD Nora written on it.
My breath caught at the back of my throat. And as he battled with the wind that kept on putting out the flames he was trying to use to light the candles, I felt an ocean of tears fill my eyes and then roll down my cheeks. He turned then to look at me, but I instantly turned my head away, and used my hands to wipe the tears off my face.
“Are you alright?” he asked. I nodded and gave him a reassuring smile.
“How did you know?” I asked as he lit the last one.
He answered without looking at me. “I filled out your clinic form the first time you fainted in the corridor,” he said as he straightened.
Instead of meeting his eyes, I watched the tiny flames flicker as the breeze harassed them. Then I laughed out loud when they all finally blew off, and he turned to see his hard work destroyed. He just shook his head and gave up.
“Why did you bother?” I managed to ask, amidst my heavy amusement, but he thought I was talking about the candles.
“It’s supposed to add effect or something,” he said, but he realized when he turned to me that it wasn’t what I was referring to.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I just felt like I should. And I know it’s late,” he continued, “But it’s been a hell of a week and I didn’t think about it early enough.”
He handed one of the sandwiches to me and I said quietly. “I still hate you.”
“Of course,” he nodded and then smiled, that genuine, breathtaking grin that I was beginning to fool myself into believing he brought out for just me. He retrieved a table knife, and thrust it into the middle of the cake.
“So, how are we doing this?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Do I have to sing?” he asked, and the dread in his voice made me laugh.
“Actually, you do,’ I said.
He shook his head. “Never.”
“You have to,” I insisted, but he ignored me and took my hand to place it on the handle of the knife. I started to move my hand away but he pushed it down, and the knife slid smoothly through.
“You cheated,” I accused, but he just chuckled.
“Happy Birthday in arrears,” he said in a whisper soft voice, and with a look that he’d never given to me before. It was sultry and moved from my eyes down my body, in a tease that made my cheeks flush with
heat. He looked away to cut out two humongous slices while I raised my hands to my cheeks, afraid that they had turned visibly red. What was that?
“Thank you,” I said when he handed a paper plate to me.
“So when is your birthday?” I asked, after I had begun to pick at the frosting. He handed me a fork, which I refused, and when part of the frosting dropped down to my lap, he retrieved a sheet of tissue and handed it to me. He took another, and to my surprise, he wiped the cream off my jeans. He offered me the fork again.
“Use it,” he insisted, but I refused. Shaking his head, he put it away and continued to eat his slice.
“When’s your birthday?” I asked again.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t do that,” I said.
He sighed. “It’s on the third of June,” he said, and I immediately stored it in my brain.
“Thanks again,” I said, and he nodded.
“You know, you should use your hands,” I suggested. “It’s sweeter this way.”
He seemed amused. “Probably, but I can’t stand the mess.”
“Interesting,” I said. “Given the fact that you thought nothing of soiling me yesterday, and somehow ended up spotless.”
“I wasn’t. I had stains on my shoulder.”
“And I was stained all over.”
He chuckled, and I thought of how much he sounded like a patient elder when he did that.
“So where did you order the cake from?” I asked.
“Cornish,” he said. “It’s a little bakery in town. It arrived this morning.”
“Ooh, you mean that place close to Domino’s? On your way to the Town House?”
“Yeah. It’s on Penny Street.”
“I’ve been there once. Couldn’t make up my mind, so I just left and went to McDonald’s instead.”
“Hmm,” I groaned as the cream and red velvet cake melted in my mouth. “This is good.”
He nodded his head in agreement.
We started talking and laughing about our pastry experiences, until eventually we got tired of eating and just laid on our backs to stare at the sky. I shamelessly ate more than half of the cake while he struggled to finish just one slice. It turned out that he didn’t like sugar as much as I did, but preferred spicy foods.
“So what made you so upset that day?” he asked softly, and the grin I had been nursing, shrunk.
“I’m always upset,” I said with a small laugh, but after a few minutes had passed, and he didn’t say anything else I decided to just tell him.
“It was the day my mom died,” I said. “Three years ago.”
He was silent for longer than I would have liked before he asked, “How? If you don’t mind.”
“No it’s fine,” I said and took a deep breath. “It was a car accident. She'd just had a fight with my dad and was going away to her best friend’s house," I said. "They used to fight a lot. I was in the car with her and then I asked her a question. One moment she was looking at me, and the next… I was on a hospital bed, and the doctor was telling me that I’d never see her again.”
An eagle shrieked in the distance.
“Why didn’t your dad tell you himself?” he asked.
“That’s a whole other story.”
We were silent for some time, and then I said. “I used to blame myself at first, because I reasoned that if I hadn’t distracted her with my question, then she would have kept her eyes on the road.”
“Don’t do that.” He said.
“I know.” I responded. “I chose not to think about it when I realized that if I did, it was just going to eat at me until it destroyed me. It doesn’t mean I don’t believe it, but I’ve just chosen not to dwell on it.”
He turned to face me. "Are you an only child?"
"Yeah … you?"
I could feel the smile in his voice when he responded. "We're four – all boys. I'm the last,” he said. “I always wondered what having a sister would have felt like though.”
I could sense him trying to shift the topic and I appreciated it. “I always wanted a brother, and I know exactly how it would have felt. It would have been awesome. Boys I think, are the coolest people ever. Girls are too complicated.”
“Says the girl who has given me more hell in a few days than I’ve known in an entire year,” he said, and I laughed.
We spoke for a while after that until we ran out of neutral topics of conversation. I began to feel drowsy but just before I shut my eyes, he rose and walked towards the stream.
Lying on my side, I watched him go, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion. With his hands in his pockets, he just stood on the banks and gazed straight ahead for more minutes than I could count.
Even in my drowsy state, I was still basking in the euphoria I felt from being with him and communicating with him. It felt like every dream I’d ever had, had come true, and that was beyond silly because I didn’t have any dreams. But I was sure that if I ever did, and they came true, this was exactly how I’d feel- excited and awed and content, all at once. Like I needed nothing more to make me happy.
I realized it was a dangerous reaction that I was letting myself indulge in, but he made me want to just throw away my reservations and learn to lean on somebody else for a change. Having to be strong and act hard when I knew I was anything but was exhausting, and I wanted more than anything to let go, even if it was just for a little bit.
A little over an hour later, I opened my eyes to meet the view of a dull sky. Instantly, I remembered where I was and turned my head to meet Nathan’s gaze as he sat with his back against the tree. He was watching me, and it was uncomfortable, so I sat up and subtly checked for drool signs at the corners of my mouth.
"I'm sure you realize how creepy that is," I joked, trying to smooth out my hair, but he didn’t say anything.
"We need to get back," he said, and I wasn’t too happy to hear that.
"Already?"
He nodded, and then got up to start putting his things together. I helped, and in no time we were back to school.
When we reached the residences, we met the sports field packed with students watching a football match that was going on between the Lonsdale and Cartmel boys. Others who wanted to just enjoy the day were either sitting on the pews, or laid out on blankets by the corners of the field. It was a cool afternoon, and everyone seemed to be making the most of it.
After a light brush of my hand, Nathan headed towards his dorm while I went to mine. On my way, I thought back to our day; his battle with the candles, his surprise and my complete and utter tranquility. He’d left the cake box with me, so as I repeatedly glanced at it, I couldn’t help the smile that rose to my lips.
« CHAPTER 11 »
I headed straight to my room to change into more comfortable clothes. However, Kate bounded in a few minutes later in her full volleyball attire and her hair in a tight ponytail.
“Oh thank God you’re here,” she said, and I immediately grew wary.
“What do you want?” I asked suspiciously.
“We have a game in twenty minutes,” she said. “Get dressed.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Don’t you mean you have a game in twenty minutes?”
“No, we both have a game in twenty minutes,” she said, as she threw open my wardrobe to look for the jersey I’d been given for the society at the beginning of the year, and had only worn once. “I’ve been coming here all day but Olivia said she had no idea where you’d gone to. I wasn’t at dinner last night so I couldn’t tell you then.”
I stood up, glaring at her. “And how am I suddenly playing volleyball in twenty minutes?”
“Well, I volunteered you,” she said, as she turned to face me. “The society planned a friendly game with the boys and we were short of a player. Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal. It’s just for fun.”
My face darkened. “Well, I am definitely not going. If I wanted to play volleyball I would’ve been active for the last eight months.”
“Lenora, don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Everyone’s expecting you.”
“But I suck at the game!” I cried.
She sighed. “That’s why I volunteered you, because it’s not a real game. I suck too, but I want to have fun.”
“Right,” I said. “I’m sure you’re on the school team because you suck.”
“C’mon. It’s a society thing not a team thing,” she said as she pulled my shoes out from the bottom of the wardrobe. “We’re late and I’m not going without you. Unless you want Elka to take my head off later,” she added, referring to her house prefect. “Please Lennie.”
“Fine,” I said, and pushed her away from the wardrobe so that I could search for my things.
*
We arrived at the court ten minutes later to meet more people present than I would have liked. It was of course, better than the mayhem that was currently taking place on the field, but having more than half of the bleachers on both sides filled, was just as nerve racking. I headed to the locker room to quickly change, then returned to see that the teams were already huddled together.
Dragging my eyes away from the excited male spectators that sat watching, I followed Kate as we met up with the rest of the team. I knew why they were there of course. The spandex shorts female volley ballers were obligated to wear hugged our behinds like a second skin, and in most cases, were so short that they rode high to almost the top of our thighs.
The uniform always bothered me, which was why I had gotten mid-thigh spandex shorts to replace the much shorter ones I had initially been given. I stood out immediately from the rest of the team as some even had their butt cheeks proudly sticking out. Boys on the other hand wore loose above-the-knee shorts, so I had always wondered what the deal was with the female uniforms.
My hair was still wild so as Elka started to lay out some basic instructions for us, I tamed it to the back of my head with a black hair tie. We were going to have a best-of-three sets match to twenty-five points each, and there was no catch– just plain, hard fun or in my case, hard torture.
I still didn’t understand why I had agreed to this. Usually, an unyielding ‘no’ was the easiest word for me to say, but nowadays, it was almost as if my shell was melting. Most things got to me now more than ever, and it was beginning to scare me. I decided to just survive this one and then revisit my resolve to become a robot.
