Don't Forget Me

by Victoria Stevens

  “I’m serious,” he said. “You and Red could work some shifts over summer vacation if you’d like.”

  She considered it carefully, tried to picture her and Red pulling long shifts together. “That would be … fun.”

  “How are things going there, anyway?”

  Hazel’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, no, Red and I aren’t—”

  “I know,” Graham said with a smile. “You’re not exactly his type, I hear.”

  “Not exactly,” she agreed.

  “Besides, I’ve seen the way you look at each other—you and Red are more than friends, you’re family. And that’s just as important.”

  “But boundaries do get blurred, don’t they?” Hazel asked, and she wasn’t talking about Red anymore. “Sometimes? Between friendship and … something more?”

  “Of course.” Graham nodded. “All the time.”

  “How can you tell? That things have shifted? That you’ve crossed over from being friends to being something else?”

  “You’d feel it when you looked at them.” He placed his palm flat against his chest. “In here.”

  “Oh God.”

  “I’m serious. Falling for someone is … is all somersaults and cold sweats and bolting upright in the middle of the night because you want to be asleep, but you can’t think of anything else but them.”

  “Sounds all-consuming.”

  “It is. But it’s beautiful. And you won’t stop smiling. That’s the best thing; that’s how everyone around you will be able to notice it. You’ll be doing something completely stupid like washing dishes or checking your e-mails and you won’t be able to take this silly smile off your face.”

  Graham was smiling now just thinking about it. Hazel knew without a doubt he’d felt it all before, felt the all-consuming and beautiful feeling of falling in love—but that wasn’t something she wanted to think about right now.

  * * *

  When the two of them had finished their meal, they headed to the kitchen to say hello to Claire. She hugged Hazel tightly and gave her a quick tour of the kitchen.

  “All good?” Graham said as they walked back out onto the beach.

  “All good.” She nodded. “But I was thinking—not that the meal wasn’t delicious, because it totally was, and takeout is fine sometimes too—that maybe I could start cooking at home? I know the last thing you want to do after a long day of cooking is more cooking.”

  “You really want to cook?”

  “I really want to try,” she corrected him. “I’m not very good, but that’s okay, right? Seeing as I’ve got a pretty amazing teacher.”

  Graham just smiled down at her, those fine lines reappearing around his green eyes. “Come on,” he said. “It’s been a busy day. Let’s get you home.”

  This time Hazel didn’t balk at the phrase. As she followed him across the sand and back toward the car, she even let herself consider for the first time the possibility that she could have two homes, somehow. Her real home, back in England, and her new home, here.

  Could that really happen?

  34

  The funny thing about training with Luca was that the closer they drew to his goal, the more on edge he became. When they’d first started training months back, twelve minutes had seemed like an impossible goal. Now that they were probably only a few weeks away from making it a reality, the stakes were suddenly raised.

  “Redleigh thinks I should look at joining a track team,” Luca said after their session on Thursday night. He’d been unusually quiet for the whole hour and a half, and Hazel was glad he was talking now—especially about this. “Get into competitive running again.”

  “Yeah? Are you going to do it?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve been thinking about it myself for a while, though. I think subconsciously this training was always about racing.”

  “You wanted to give yourself the choice to go back,” she said gently. “It makes sense.”

  “Does it? The thought of competing without him still makes me feel sick.”

  She studied his face. “Luca, just because something scares us doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it. If anything, it means we should. It scares you because it means something, and that’s good—it means you care.”

  Luca held her gaze, uncertain, and then swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Just don’t underestimate yourself, all right? If you want to join a team, join a team, and if you don’t, don’t. But don’t hold back because you’re afraid of moving on. You have the choice, and that’s what counts. It’s up to you. You can do anything you want.”

  He didn’t answer. The two of them walked on in silence. It was a lovely night out, not too cool and not too warm, the stars in the sky particularly bright. Hazel could feel Luca’s eyes on her as she tilted her head up to look at the stars as she walked.

  “We are all made of stardust,” he said suddenly. “Did you know that? I read that somewhere—that everything we are, everything we know is made from the ashes of decayed stars. All we are is the remnants of explosions that happened a billion years ago.”

  Hazel said nothing, just kept walking.

  “Stardust,” Luca said again, after a while. “A whole galaxy destroyed so we could exist. Where’s the sense in that? Entire solar systems dead so that we can live, and for what? For us to just die too?”

  “Everyone dies eventually, Luca.”

  “Yeah,” he said lightly. “But most of us get the chance to live first.”

  Hazel knew he was still thinking about Ryan, and that was fine. He was allowed to feel down and angry sometimes. He should feel down and angry sometimes; God knew she did. It was all part of the healing process.

  “Hey,” she said, slowing to a stop on the pavement. “Do you know how they know we’re made of stardust?”

  Luca stopped too. “No, how?”

  “Because both us and the stars are made up of the same elements. Carbon and oxygen and nitrogen, things like that. The elements are recycled the same way water is. It’s not some romantic notion about the circle of life. It’s just science.”

  “So?” he said.

  “So instead of looking at it as destruction, why don’t you look at it as creation? Focus on the fact that when we die, we’re reborn as stars. Everything we’ve been and everything we’ve known is shaped back into galaxies and constellations and supernovas. That’s a nicer thought, isn’t it?”

  Luca just stared at her, brown eyes a little wide. “Yeah,” he said finally, as they started walking again. “That’s a much nicer thought.”

  * * *

  As the summer vacation drew closer, so did Red’s deadline for Hodgkins’s assignment. He’d made really good progress and he was happy with how it was coming together, but he was still nervous as he waited for his final tutorial with his teacher before he handed the project in on Friday afternoon.

  “Redleigh, come on in,” Hodgkins said when he arrived, ushering Red into his office. They sat opposite each other at his desk, and Hodgkins found Red’s portfolio from the stack on the floor. He stared at it for a moment, expression unreadable, and then raised his head to look at him.

  “Well,” he said, handing it over to Red. “Where do I start? It’s like looking at a completely different project. I’m really impressed.”

  Red looked down at his folder and then back up at Hodgkins. “Really?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. You show a lot of maturity in your work, and there’s a lovely balance in there between the candid photographs and portraits. Your captions are carefully thought-out and elicit a powerful response, and with a bit of tweaking, your presentation and composition will both be excellent—you’ve captured your family beautifully.”

  “I … thanks.”

  “Have you thought about submitting any of these photos for the end-of-year competition?”

  “Oh, no, that’s not—”

  “Redleigh,” Hodgkins cut him off firmly. “You sh
ould. You really should.”

  Red blinked. “Okay.”

  Hodgkins reached into his desk and pulled a flyer out of the top drawer. “The winning photographs will be displayed in the gallery by the pier. It’s a great opportunity to get some exposure for your work, and it will look good on your CV when you apply to university.”

  The thought of his photos getting exposure—the thought of anyone outside of his immediate family and friends seeing them at all—both terrified and exhilarated him. University too. He’d always had some vague dream of going on to study art full-time, pursuing it as a real career, but it had never been a concrete plan. While all his classmates had spent this year thinking about college, Red had spent it thinking about Luca. For a long time, it hadn’t seemed like Luca was going to go to college—he didn’t give enough of a shit about his future to start planning for it—which meant that Red hadn’t thought about going either. He was staying wherever Luca was staying because they were twins and that’s what twins did: stayed for each other.

  If you stay, I stay. If you go, I go.

  And Red had always been fine with that, with sidelining his plans and his dreams and his everything to be there for his brother, because that was what he had needed to do for the family to survive.

  Not anymore, though.

  Luca was running again—and Red wasn’t so naïve as to think that it was going to fix everything, or even anything, but it was a start. It was Luca choosing, finally, to draw a line between his past and his future and move on. It was Luca choosing hope.

  And if Luca could think about his future again, then maybe Red could too. Maybe Red could submit his photographs to Hodgkins’s competition. Maybe he could show people his artwork. Maybe he could apply to art school and start a new adventure in a new city, safe in the knowledge that his brother would survive just fine if he did.

  “I’ll look into it,” he promised, and Hodgkins handed him the flyer like he’d known all along that he would.

  35

  When Hazel jolted awake early Saturday morning, the room was still dark, and the air was so muggy it pressed down on her chest. Even the light breeze coming in through the window didn’t touch the heat.

  Her sheets were pooled around her feet at the end of the bed, and she was damp with sweat. So this was what summertime in Australia felt like. She willed herself to lie back against the pillow, wondering how she was going to survive another three months of this oppressive humidity.

  There was a sudden knock at the balcony window, followed immediately by three more in quick succession. Hazel started in surprise and looked at her clock. It was four thirty in the morning—who could be at her window at this hour? She climbed out of bed and tiptoed across the room, carefully pulling back the corner of the curtain.

  “Christ,” she muttered, letting the curtain fall back into place. She unlocked the balcony door and pulled it open. “Hey, Luca.”

  “Wow.” He whistled, stepping over the threshold and into her room. “You look…”

  “A mess?” she offered.

  “I was going to say hot.”

  “Thanks,” she said, closing the door after him. “What are you doing on my balcony in the middle of the night?”

  She peered out the window—it was pretty high up, far too high to warrant climbing. “Which was completely idiotic, by the way. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

  “Well, I could hardly ring the doorbell, could I?”

  “This couldn’t have waited until the morning?”

  “Nope,” he said firmly. “Can’t you feel it?”

  “Feel what?” she grumbled, tugging at the neck of her pajama top in a futile attempt to cool herself down a little.

  “The heat.” He grinned. “Are you ready?”

  Hazel knew she should kick him out and crawl back into bed, but truthfully she was curious. Whatever it was Luca was taking her to see had to be pretty amazing to warrant him waking her up at this hour.

  “All right.” She sighed. “What do I need to wear?”

  “Something you don’t mind getting wet. And a change of clothes, and possibly a towel.”

  Hazel narrowed her eyes at him, but grabbed yesterday’s swimsuit and beach dress from the back of the chair and took them with her into the bathroom to change, ordering Luca not to touch anything while she was gone. Once she was decent, she found some clean clothes and a spare towel from the bottom of the dresser and stuffed them into a bag. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Let’s go. We’ve got to be quick.” He went to open the balcony door again, and Hazel yanked him backward.

  “Luca, for God’s sake!” she hissed. “We can take the front door. Don’t be an idiot.”

  “Yes, Coach.” He smirked.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, the two of them arrived on their bikes at the sandy bank of a lake. Outside, the air was even thicker and heavier, if that was possible, which had made cycling there uncomfortable. It was utterly silent too, as if the wildlife was having trouble breathing as well.

  “Okay,” Hazel said, eyeing the tiny rowboat floating on the water in front of them, which Luca was in the process of untying from the jetty. “Whose boat is this?”

  “Don’t worry, we’re not stealing it,” Luca said. “It’s our next-door neighbor’s. He lets Redleigh and me borrow it whenever we want. Come on then, hop in.”

  She used his shoulder to balance as she climbed inside and took a seat at one end of the rowboat. Luca tossed the rope onto the bottom and stepped in too, taking the seat opposite her. He stowed their spare clothes safely underneath the bench, and then picked up the oars and began rowing away from shore in quick, powerful strokes.

  “Wow,” Hazel said. “Are we in a rush or something?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  “An adventure! How exciting!”

  Luca rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you talk me through the constellations while I row?”

  “Fine.” She laughed, turning her gaze to the sky. “Okay, there’s … Wait. I can’t see any.”

  “No?”

  “Nope. The whole sky’s black.”

  “It’s cloud,” Luca said smugly.

  “Cloud?”

  “The darkness,” he explained, rowing faster. “The whole sky is full of clouds.”

  “What?”

  “I told you it would be coming, didn’t I?”

  “Told me what would be coming?”

  “The first storm of the wet season,” he said, and just then a drop of rain landed on her cheek.

  “Luca?” she said uncertainly, and he slowed to a stop, resting the oars on the floor of the boat. “Should I be scared?”

  “No, Hazel. I’m right here.”

  He took hold of her hand and held it tight, and they didn’t say anything else as the rain began to fall, big fat drops of water plummeting from the dark sky. The rain became heavier, coming down in sheets and waves, and within minutes they were drenched to the bone. “Luca!” Hazel shouted over the noise of the rain drumming against the surface of the lake. “It’s warm! The rain’s warm!”

  “I told you it was different!” The rain was falling so fast now that Hazel had to keep blinking just to be able to see. When Luca had said that the rain in Queensland was nothing like the rain in Sydney or England, she’d thought he was exaggerating. She’d never expected this. Suddenly, somewhere in the distance, a flash of silvery-white light forked through the black sky, leaving a purple smear across the horizon. It was followed a few moments later by the low growl of thunder.

  “Should we be on the water?” she yelled at him.

  “It’s fine!” he answered. “I’ve been out here in storms before, and the lightning never comes this far over!”

  Another fork of brilliant white light, another clap of thunder. “Luca, it’s getting closer!”

  “Hazel! I won’t let you get hurt, I promise!”

  The raindrops ran down their cheeks like tears, but they weren’t crying, they were laughing. Both o
f them, in a tiny boat in the middle of a lake, laughing and laughing. The sky flashed again, and this time the thunder followed immediately, the rain still pounding relentlessly down. The lake around them was alive, dancing and shimmering as the drops beat the surface.

  “Scream!” Luca said then, leaning across the boat so his face was inches from hers.

  “Scream?”

  “Scared someone will hear you?”

  “No!” she said, throwing her head back and letting out the loudest, longest scream she could manage. Then Luca did the same, letting himself go entirely and bellowing up at the angry sky. It felt incredible, releasing so many pent-up emotions with no one around to witness it but each other, safe in the knowledge that they were the last people on earth who would judge.

  By the time the rain finally began to stop, Hazel was exhausted—exhausted, but completely and utterly calm. As the drizzle faded to nothing, she and Luca sat and watched the sky turn hues of pink, crimson, and orange with the sunrise, watched the last of the clouds lighten and disappear entirely.

  “Well,” Luca said finally.

  “Well.”

  He leaned over, wiping her cheek gently with his thumb. “You’re a little bit wet, Hazel.”

  She glanced down at her sodden beach dress and grinned. “I should probably get changed.”

  “Right.” He studied her closely for a moment, then picked up the oars and began to row as if nothing had happened since he put them down. “Good morning, anyhow.”

  “Good morning.” She beamed.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said. “How does a hot breakfast sound?”

  “It sounds perfect.”

  36

  By the time they arrived at the Cawleys’ house, the rest of the family was awake. Claire sent Marc off to the store to pick up some fresh strawberries and began preparing the biggest breakfast Hazel had ever seen, while she and Luca sat at the counter and Red paced around the kitchen sipping on a smoothie.

  “Let me get this straight,” Red said. “You took Hazel out on Mr. Langley’s boat to the middle of the lake during a thunderstorm?”