by Emily Bourne
Kellie yanks Travis’ blazer. “Oi, get away from him.”
Travis laughs, sitting on the grass. “Shudda known better than to go near my cousin when his bodyguard is around.”
Kellie plonks next to Reece. “Damn straight.”
I crouch and place a hand on Reece’s book. “What ya reading?”
He lifts the cover. “‘Nineteen Eighty-Four.’ George Orwell.”
“Any good?”
“Yes. You should read it when I’m done.”
I never have the worry of what to read next. Reece is always adding to my TBR pile.
Reece sits up and shakes grass out of his side-swept hair. Side-by-side, it’s clear Reece and Travis are cousins by the classic Watkins features: dark eyes, and heavy lower lips framed by strong jaws.
I run a hand over my skirt pocket and trace the outline of my phone. I want to check it. I want to check it. I REALLY WANT TO CHECK IT.
Kellie reclines against the bluegum. Her glasses slide down her button nose. Seriously, she needs a new pair. They’ve been broken for months.
“Reece and I were talking about Friday night,” she says. “Both our parents are going to a banquet on base, and we don’t have to go.”
“Oh yeah?” Kellie’s dad is a lieutenant or commander or something in the navy, and Reece’s dad is something higher than that. “What ya thinkin?”
“Party at mine.”
“With Bailey there?” Not ideal having her eight-year-old brother hanging around.
“Nah, he’s sleeping over at a mate’s house. It’s perfect.”
“We were thinking games like we played at Henry’s the other weekend,” Reece adds, re-opening his book.
“Cool, that sounds fun.”
Crap. Travis.
“Travis, you’re welcome to come,” Kellie chimes in.
“Kel, no,” Reece hisses.
Travis snorts. “Well, thanks, cuz.”
“I just mean it won’t be your scene.”
“My scene is wherever Charli is.”
I blurt out, “Travis was invited to something with his friends.”
“Oh.” Kellie waves her hands. “Don’t worry bout it then.”
“Well, I can go to yours instead.”
I eye him. “Your friends are already pissed at you.”
“Maybe I can do both?”
Travis rubs circles on my back and I force a smile. My attention falls to my phone. I can’t take it any more.
I slip it out of my pocket.
The screen illuminates.
Nothing.
I grunt and shove it back in my pocket.
“You ok?” the three ask at once.
“I’m fine.”
No one comments but it lingers in the air. They know the text I’m waiting on. They’re probably sick of it. Me too. Dad should just come home and give us all a break.
Kellie fills the silence with, “Well Travis, the offer is there.”
“Thanks, Kel.”
Neither Kellie nor Reece were jazzed when Travis and I became a thing. They didn’t understand it. When it was clear he was not going anywhere, they began to come around. Well, they’re trying.
The bell sounds for fifth period. Travis plants a kiss on my cheek and we agree to meet at his car after school. As he leaves for the gym, he tussles Reece’s hair.
Reece hunches, combing his hair to its original position. I don’t know much about Reece’s condition, but I know one rule is not to touch. It’s a massive deal when you get eye contact out of him.
“What games are you thinking for Friday?”
“You were getting a handle of Crown Slayer,” Kellie suggests.
“I can bring that,” Reece says as we start walking toward the school building.
On the way Kellie gives me the run down on the invitees. I don’t dislike anyone on the list, but honestly, I prefer when it’s just us.
We stop by our lockers and I draw in a deep breath. “Thanks for inviting Travis.”
She winks. “No probs.”
“I’m so glad for the get-out-of-jail-free card from GiGi Larkin’s party.”
“Eww. That’s whose party it is? Why is he friends with these people?”
I don’t respond. Kellie one-arm hugs me and leaves for her history class.
I wait for Reece to find his books and we head to English. If you want the definition of comfortable silence, it’s me and Reece.
Reece takes his seat in the middle of the centre row. Mr Palmer assigned me a desk in the back row, because, and I quote, he ‘doesn’t have to worry about me.’ It’s the worst. A view of everyone slacking off.
I open my copy of ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ at the bookmark. I’ve already read through the discussion questions so I’m ready if Mr Palmer calls on me.
“You enjoying it?”
On my right, the new guy, Bryce Kerry, points at my book with eyebrows raised in interest.
“Yeah, so far. How about you?”
He thumbs through his novel. “Not started yet.”
He’s textbook-classic handsome. Crooked smile, high cheekbones and a pair of mesmerising eyes. Ok, he’s attractive, but is there anything underneath worth value?
“We’ve had the book for three weeks.”
“Yeah, but we’ve got all term, right?”
“But we’re discussing it every class.”
“Maybe you could give me the highlight reel? You know, enough to get me by for the essay.”
Unintentionally, I blow a raspberry. “I don’t think it’s gonna happen.”
He leans in. “But you don’t know for sure?”
“You know, if you really wanted to cheat, there is a movie.”
“There is?”
“Yeah. With Gregory Peck.”
A deadpan stare.
“Gregory Peck.” The volume of my voice increases to shock level. “You don’t know who Gregory Peck is?”
His eyebrows push together and his nose crinkles.
“Miss Matthews, Mr Kerry,” Mr Palmer strides up the aisle to our desks, “having your own discussion group, are you?”
I gulp and wriggle in my seat as Mr Palmer makes eye contact.
Bryce slides down his seat and waves a hand. “Sorry, Sir. I didn’t understand the discussion being held. And…” he turns to me, mouth ajar.
“Charli.”
“Yeah, when Charli—” he stops and looks back like he heard it wrong. “Charli?”
“Yes.”
“Like Charles?”
I snort. “Like Charlotte.”
“Yes, when Miss Charlotte Matthews was kind enough to explain it to me. She is, like, number one in this class.”
A giggle escapes me, and I clasp a hand over my mouth. He’s slick, I’ll give him that.
Mr Palmer applauds Bryce and walks to the front of class. Bryce pushes back on his seat and past him I see my sister. She’s frowning at me with a clenched jaw. Is it about Dad?
I pull out my phone.
Nope, still nothing.
“Thank you, Mrs Watkins,” I say, taking a piece of blueberry cheesecake from the platter Travis’ mum holds out.
It’s enjoyable going to Travis’ house for dinner. His mum is a great cook. We’ve demolished a meal of oven-baked salmon with greens and béarnaise sauce. I can’t recall the last time my mum made toast.
“Meah’s probably gonna get shitty now that she can’t get her double serving of cake,” Travis teases, pulling faces at his younger sister.
“Oh piss off, Travis.” Meah puffs out her plump cheeks and shoves her plate away.
The baked-ricotta-blueberry sours in my mouth.
“Meah,” Mrs Watkins hisses.
Meah’s face scrunches as her arms flap about. “What? He started it!”
Mr Watkins slams his fist on the table. “Well I’m ending it!”
Quiet sweeps the table like the gust off an evening wave. The tension makes eating uncomfortable, but I plough through the cake as an excuse not to talk.
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I glance at Meah. She shifts in her chair, hands smoothing under her chin. Meah rarely says a nice word to me, but it’s painful to hear anyone get picked on.
After an awkward end to dinner, Travis snags us the living room. Thankful, I snuggle with him on the couch.
“So, what’s our next movie going to be?” Travis asks, stroking my hair.
I settle into the warmth of his chest and squeeze my arms around him. “Didn’t we talk about starting the Hitchcock’s? We could start with ‘Rear Window.’”
“Followed by ‘Dial M for Murder’?”
“Any excuse for you to watch more Grace Kelly.”
“I’ve seen enough Cary Grant movies for you. You owe me.”
I spring to sitting. “I had to teach someone who Gregory Peck was today.”
“Ehck. You’re friggin kidding me.” He pulls me to his chest. “When my class studied ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ we watched the movie and I had to pretend to not like it because my friends were making this big deal about how lame it was.”
I run my hand through his soft curls and close my eyes. I’ve started biting my tongue when he talks about pretending around his friends. Now I need to learn to deal with the stabbing against my heart.
“Remember what you told me at the old cinema when we watched ‘Rebel Without A Cause’?” I reminisce. “While they are in that empty mansion and Plato is holding that candelabra. You explained how they made the candelabra light up through wires in his jacket.”
“Oh yeah. Smart, hey. Would be shitty to have to re-shoot because some candles blew out.” Light dazzles in his eyes as his mind wanders. “The night they shot at the planetarium, people in the area called the fire departments saying there were forest fires.” A hint of laughter escapes him. “The production lights were so bright, freaked em all out.”
“Have you been working on anything lately?”
He glances at his laptop on the coffee table. “Not really. School’s kinda getting in the way.”
“You’re actually studying?”
“Just friends and stuff.”
Choosing to ignore. “When's the last time you filmed something?”
“Filming is easy enough. If I want, I can do it with my phone. It’s the cutting and editing I miss. I really should finish a project.”
I bounce to my knees. “You should! You should!”
Travis sits up and hugs me. “Ok! Ok!” His hand runs down my cheek. “I love you so much, you know?”
“I know,” I reply with a cheeky smile. “I love you too.”
He kisses me softly, pushing his tongue against mine. His hands slide inside my t-shirt and explore my torso. My elbows lock, stiff against my ribs. His hands move up until they can’t move further. They find the clasp of my bra. I let out a weird gah noise, which makes us both freeze.
“Maybe you should drive me home. It’s getting late.”
Travis drives me home and I kiss him goodnight. I leave his car and walk the path to my house.
Summer is ending, yet there is still a touch of light to the night sky. The crash of waves echoes as I walk along the side of the house. I plant my feet at the edge of the back deck and draw in the salty air. The ocean never fails to be calming. It’s getting late, so I go inside to view the waves from my bedroom balcony.
“Good evening, Charli.” Sophia beams when I walk into the kitchen. “Have a nice night?”
“Yeah I did, thanks.”
“I’m glad, gorgeous one.” Sophia’s smile could melt the coldest heart. When she’s happy, her eyes round like an anime character. Her Filipino complexion is highlighted from the summer sun and her long, black hair is tied high with her trademark frangipani.
“Do we have any iced tea left?” I ask, opening the fridge.
“Should do.”
Sophia takes the jug of green tea and ginger from the fridge and prepares it in a glass with ice. When she returns the jug to the fridge, she kisses her palm and plants it on the photo of her kids.
She hands me the drink and kisses my cheek. “Do you need anything else? I’m about done in here and I was going to call my sister to check in on the family back home.”
“No, please, go.”
Sophia tidies the kitchen sink and then leaves for her bedroom by the laundry room. I wish her a good night and walk to the stairs.
On the second-floor landing, Brittany walks out of the bathroom and turns toward her bedroom.
“Brit!” I’ll admit it was way too loud.
“Yeah?”
I shift my weight between feet. “What you doing?”
“Going to bed. What do you want?”
“Oh, um. Just thought we could, um, catch up on what’s been going on… at school?”
“What do you mean? We go to the same school.”
“Yeah. But I hardly see you.”
“Ugh, whatever. Seriously, I have to go to bed, ok? Night.”
She slams the door behind her. I suck in air and fight the throbbing in my throat. I close my eyes as they become wet. I shake it off and head into my bedroom.
I let myself smile. Sophia has been in here. I’m trying to convince her she doesn’t have to tidy my bedroom. Organised chaos lets my mind work. My ‘mess’ as she calls it, is her idea of hell. My wad of flannel shirts, jeans and books has shrunk. Smuggled to the laundry or neatly stacked.
I pass my wardrobe and show a peace sign to the jumbo John Lennon poster. As I walk toward my balcony door, my laptop pings with three notifications: missed video chats with Kellie. I circle back and click return call.
Four seconds later, Kellie appears on screen. “Sorry, man. I remembered you were at Trav’s after the third call.”
“That’s ok. What’s up?”
“Oh nothing. Just trying to ignore my ignoramus of a mother.”
“Everything ok?”
“Yeah, you know how she is. Trying to push me to do things when she won’t do a thing for herself.” Kellie shrugs onscreen. “How was it at Travis’?”
I smile at the webcam, leaning into the subject change. Kellie’s the kinda girl to do everything for herself. Her mother’s expectant hand out towards her father exasperates Kellie to the point she now hates talking about it.
“Yeah, good. Meah was less of a pain. That was a plus.”
Kellie’s head bops with a silent laugh. “How unlike her.”
“Tried talking to Brittany when I got home.”
“Get anything out of her?”
I bite inside my cheek. Not worth answering. I scan between study notes. “Kel, which should I chose: history or geography?”
“You were talking to Brit about history and geography?”
I wave my hands at the screen. “No. Which should I study tonight?”
“You have a test coming up?”
“No, just making it a habit to study every night.”
“Part of your I’m-going-to-be-best-at-everything scheme?”
“I’m not scheming.”
Weighing up the pile of papers, I feel crappy about flaking on work in geography class. But I love history. Ending the day with history would make me happy.
“I really should catch up on geography.”
“Need a study buddy?”
“I’m good. Thanks, Kel.”
“See you tomorrow then.”
“Catch ya.”
I sign off and hit the books. Dad could be back in Sanford any day now. My grades need to be ace so I can make him proud. Make him so happy, he moves back into our family home.
Last night’s dance class was a disaster. If my footing was right, my arms were in the wrong spot. Total dork. I’m streaming the song from class to get practice in before school. Of course, I’m on point when no one’s watching.
Meah flings my bedroom door open. “Woo. Slick moves, Brit.”
Her entrance freaks me out and I trip over my foot.
“Or maybe not.” She smirks and flops on my bed. “How was class last night? Talk to Chloe?”<
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I shake my head and turn off the music. “Nah. I wasn’t really near her.”
“Can’t you get closer?”
“Maybe,” I say while examining my makeup in the mirror. I coat my lips with another layer of dewy, strawberry lipgloss.
“Well, you better. You’re the only in we’ve got.”
A knot tightens in my chest. Thanks for the added pressure, Meah. I suggest we head downstairs to leave. Big mistake. Every step down the staircase creates a more perfect view of Charli and Travis making out in the foyer. Ok, it’s only a small kiss. But does she have to flaunt it in my face?
Charli pulls away from Travis, rubbing her lips together and eyeing me like she’s embarrassed.
Really? Are you really?
I roll my eyes and round the stairs towards the kitchen.
“Morning, gorgeous,” Sophia greets with a larger-than-life smile, offering a mug of coffee.
I take it and thank her. Hazelnut latte with a dusting of cinnamon. Heaven.
“Meah, would you like something to drink? Or some breakfast?” Sophia asks as we slide into the breakfast nook.
“I ate, but coffee sounds ah-may-zing.”
“Brittany, darling, you have to eat breakfast,” Sophia says while grabbing a coffee cup from the cabinet. “What can I make you?”
I take a whiff of cinnamon-hazelnut goodness. “I’m not really hungry.”
“Then I’m making you toast.”
She always knows what I mean.
“Mum already gone to work?”
Sophia gives the answer I expected. An hour ago.
“You guys ready to go?” Travis asks, entering the kitchen hand-in-hand with Charli.
“Travis, let me make you something to eat,” Sophia interrupts, head in the pantry.
Travis grins. “You know I’d eat anything if you made it, Sophia.”
Charli and Travis walk further into the kitchen.
My insides clench.
Not in here. Not in here. DO NOT SIT IN HERE.
My heart slows its pace as they wander into the dining room.
Meah’s cousin Reece lives three doors down. After breakfast Travis stops by his house when he drives us to school. I make Meah sit in the middle. That kid barely speaks, like, it’s weird. When he comes over to our house to hang with Charli his head is always in a book. The entire car ride he reads from his phone, hair falling over his forehead and covering his eyes.
