The FBucket List

by Lena Fox

  The melancholy that lay heavy on my heart drifted off as we wound our way down the streets and to the lake. I knew where we were going as soon as the tires hit the old gravel road. The sound that came up from the wheels running over the rough ground was like a song I knew by heart, one that lightened my depression and made me smile.

  The lake was empty, the road leading into it dusty. A few weeks before it would have been packed but since school had started again there were few people willing to come all the way out there. In this moment, it belonged to us alone.

  Blake pulled into a space and parked. We headed down to the water. It gleamed black under the starry sky. Small insects sang in the grass, and the breeze ran over us in a long breath of air.

  I drew it all in, as though I could pull all of existence inside me, become one with it all, enjoy everything micro and macro in that moment, from the soft lap of water tickling the lake shore to the twinkling universe above. Just being alive filled me with infinite happiness and sadness at the same time. Trying to find the joy and magic in every moment was painful, knowing how soon all this could end.

  Blake stood at the lake’s edge, staring into the water. “This is perfect sailing weather.”

  “Is it?”

  “Have you ever been?”

  “Sure. I’ve got my yacht around here somewhere.” I checked all my pockets and peeked down the front of my shirt. “Damn, can’t find it. Where’s yours?”

  I started prying into the pockets of Blake’s jacket, and he just laughed. “I must have left mine at home too.”

  “Sailing is off the cards for the night then, old boy. Whatever else shall we do?”

  We strolled along the shore line a little farther, Blake holding my hand when the rocks got slippery.

  “I was thinking about my first kiss on the way here,” I said.

  “I noticed it wasn’t on your list.”

  “It was a long time ago. Nothing special.” I side-eyed Blake. The things Louisa had said were still on my mind. Part of me had to know, and part of me didn’t want to. I pried anyway. “How about you? What was your first kiss like?”

  “Pretty standard too. Most of my firsts were by the book, very high-school-sweetheart stuff.”

  “Were you with that girl for a while?”

  “Years. Followed her everywhere she went. Put my whole life on hold for her.” He stopped walking and stared out over the water. “I always did so much for her, with her, but in the end it wasn’t enough … I still can’t dance without thinking of her. But that’s over now. I’m getting on with my own life, trying not to get tied down again.”

  I inhaled a short breath, trying not to get flustered remembering getting tied down by Blake. Stay focused. Nothing he’d said meant he was who Louisa said he was. It was all too general. Could be anyone, any relationship past, even the dancing. I pushed a bit more. “How did it end? I mean, amicably or—”

  “Do you like the woman your dad is dating?” he asked in a very unsubtle subject change.

  It wasn’t an admission. But it was enough that I knew. I just knew in my bones that it was him. That he’d lost his first love. And he didn’t want to talk about it.

  My brain stumbled to catch up, to not have a complete panic attack, to continue a normal conversation. I tried to frame a polite lie about how Louisa was sooo niiice, but quickly gave up. I’d lied to Blake enough. “No, I don’t like her. I’m trying to be supportive though. This is Dad’s first serious relationship since my mom died.”

  “I’m sorry,” Blake said. “How did she die?”

  “Breast cancer.”

  Something changed on his face. I hated pity, which was the normal response to hearing those words. But that was not the emotion written on his features. It was something deeper, more intense.

  I put my arms up around his neck, swayed my hips softly. “Dance with me. It’s a nice night for dancing. Maybe you can make some new dancing memories.”

  “I don’t dance.” Blake’s body remained still as a statue.

  “I’m not asking for a choreographed routine here, just—”

  “I don’t dance,” he said again. His expression was unbreakable.

  I dropped my arms away, feeling awful for having pushed him. There was pain there. A lot of it. Before I could apologize, his expression shifted again, and he gave me a wicked sidelong look. His hands were gentle on my chin as he tilted my face up to his and whispered, “Close your eyes. Trust me.”

  I obeyed, closing my eyes tight. Confusion settled in even as his lips settled onto mine and his arms wrapped around me. I felt my feet leave the ground, and I couldn’t fathom how he could be so strong. We were moving, still kissing, our mouths fused together as the cool water of the lake came up around us, closing over our heads.

  Inky blackness washed my fear and sadness away. I scrunched my eyes shut tighter, reveling in all the feelings washing over me: the weight of my clothes, the strength of Blake’s arms, the freshness of the chilled water. I felt so ridiculous, so happy, so free. I came up out of the water giggling and gasping. Blake stood solid on the lake bed but it was too deep for me to touch. He kept me supported in his arms. His face and body were outlined by the silvery light of the moon, and droplets of water shimmered in his hair and dripped from his face. We swirled through the dark water as one, the surface reflecting the stars above us as though we danced in the heavens.

  Mom, are you up there, dancing in the heavens too?

  “What do you think happens after we die?” I asked in a barely there breath.

  Blake’s body tensed. I wanted to backtrack. I’d asked the wrong thing, gone too far. He let me go and I treaded water, about to change the subject when he spoke. “I never believed in an afterlife. Religions just never made sense to me. I always had too many questions and belief alone wasn’t enough of an answer. But it does suck when some things don’t have answers, and are so much harder to handle if you don’t believe.”

  The chill of the lake settled deep within me. Frogs croaked nearby, blissfully unaware of their mortality.

  “I don’t know either. I wish I did. But I suppose that’s the one thing everyone wishes they knew, and nobody ever will.” I swished my arms slowly through the water, tipping myself up to float on my back. My hair swam around me. “What if it’s none of the things religion tells us? What if there is nothing? And we know nothing, become nothing, are nothing, after this? How are we supposed to deal with that?”

  Blake didn’t reply.

  I stared into the stars above. “Or, what if when we die we become dreams?”

  “Dreams?”

  “Like, if our consciousness, no longer attached to our bodies, just enters a constant state of dreaming. Or not even that we are dreaming, but that we become dreams themselves, within people who are still living.”

  Blake swam beside me, and kissed my cheek. “You amaze me, Georgina.”

  “Why?”

  “You are either very brave or utterly crazy. I keep trying to figure you out.”

  “Maybe I’m neither.”

  His lips were soft on my cheek. “Or both.”

  Something slimy brushed against my legs in the water and I ran out of the lake, shrieking, “Not brave, not brave, not brave!”

  I turned back to watch Blake follow me out, worried some cousin of Nessy was about to snatch him away into the depths of the lake. The water ran down off Blake’s shoulders as he emerged slowly, chuckling at my cowardice. He looked so utterly gorgeous I was almost ready to join him in the water again. Almost. Not quite.

  The breeze raced against my wet clothing, and my teeth chattered. Beside us, there was an old fire circle on the banks that someone had left behind. Blake picked up a stick and poked through the remains. The blackened wood and the white ash scraped away to reveal some hot orange embers and nearly whole ends of pine logs.

  “Want to see a magic trick?” Blake asked.

  I giggled in agreement and before I knew it he had backed his bike up so that t
he exhaust was pointed straight into the fire. He started the motorbike and revved the engine hard. The rush of fumes from the exhaust set the fire ablaze in seconds, and the world was lit up by a bright spurt of sparks that heralded long yellow flames.

  I cheered him on, and he joined me sitting by the fire, sitting behind me and pulling me into his arms as our clothes dried.

  “I wish we had marshmallows,” I said.

  Blake nodded. “I once roasted the pumpkin-flavored ones they sell near Halloween.”

  “I can’t decide if that is brilliant or terrible. How did they taste?”

  “I thought I’d be vomiting long before I finished out the bag.”

  My jaw dropped, aghast. “You ate the entire bag?”

  “I wasn’t about to admit defeat.”

  I could believe that from him. And the thought unsettled me. “Well, your work here is done, Sir Knight, starter or fires, taker of virginity, and ruiner of marshmallows.”

  “A gallant prince such as me? I thought my job would be to save the princess.” His tone was light, but his face was tight with concern.

  There was so much I wanted to say—to tell him the truth, to explain why the list was all we could have, to apologize for everything, but I couldn’t frame the words. Not with him there, looking at me like he was a white knight and I his damsel in distress.

  The earth was cool below my legs, but his body was warm as he hugged me. I let my head stay on his chest, listening to his heart beating. There was something so reassuring about that steady thud. He would be around after I was gone and that was more than okay—that was good. I was glad. I wanted to be nothing but a happy memory for him.

  And for that to happen, he could never know the truth. This would have to end before things got worse. Before I got sick. “We’ll have to find you a princess to save then.”

  A long silence fell between us.

  Finally, Blake asked, “Do you want more than just your list?”

  The smoke from the fire had curled into my nose, crisp and aromatic. It clung to our skin, and I breathed it deeply before answering, “No.”

  “What if I want more than your list?”

  “You mean from me?”

  “No, from Hello Kitty. Of course, from you.”

  “Then I’d have to say no to you, and I’d have to find someone else to help finish my list, and I don’t want to do either of those things.”

  Blake lifted his chin, as though indicating everything around us. “This is more. This has been nice. What’s so wrong with this?”

  I got up, out of his arms and brushed myself off. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come out tonight. I’m sending the wrong signals. I’m not trying to play hard to get or some other game. I truly don’t want more than what we’ve agreed to.”

  I held my breath, hoping he would let it go, and he did. He got up as well and started putting the fire out. He looked somehow exhausted, and I felt awful for turning him down when I’d love so much to say yes to him in every way. But it was for the best, for him.

  If he’d lost someone he loved in the past, I couldn’t put him through that again. I had to call this off. We’d do just one more item off the list first. I owed him that. I knew he wanted it.

  We climbed onto his bike, and were back in front of my dad’s house in no time.

  The way he held me for a long time when he said goodbye galvanized my decision. I wasn’t a princess he could save.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Georgina

  I woke up the next morning unable to breathe. I couldn’t force air into my lungs, and I sat in my bed with my mouth gaped open and my eyes bulging as I fought for air. Blurry blackness invaded my vision. My chest ached like I was having a heart attack.

  I recognized it as an anxiety attack easily enough. I’d had my share. But even knowing that, there was always that inner voice whispering, this is it. This is how you die.

  I counted out the seconds as I forced long, slow breaths, going through the relaxation techniques a counselor had taught me once. When my lungs worked again, I rolled over and burrowed back below the covers, wanting nothing more than to sleep forever. But I knew I had to get up.

  I dressed in my comfiest jumper and leggings, and headed to the kitchen to eat the most decadent thing that could be found. The window was open, and a bubble floated inside. I stared at it in confusion, watching its rainbow swirls shimmer on the fragile surface until it popped in front of my face. Leaning out the window I saw the source: a couple walking with their toddler, who waved an automatic bubble-blower in the air as they went. It was such a joyous scene under the sparkling morning sun, with golden dandelions spotting the footpath around them. The world was so full of future and hope, out there.

  Inside me, everything felt so desolate.

  I rattled through the pantry until I found a box of praline chocolates and decided they would make a good breakfast, particularly paired with a half-empty tub of double cream I found in the fridge.

  I was halfway through the box when Julie walked past, saw me eating them, and looked like a baby deer whose mother had just been shot.

  “Shit,” I said out loud. “These aren’t mine, are they?”

  “It’s all right,” she said, her voice flat. “You look like you need them more than me.”

  I bristled at first, and then let it go. I could never get a reading on Julie because of how she talked. It was like she was being dismissive, or sarcastic, or just plain mean from her tone.

  But what if she wasn’t? What if she just sounded like that? I tried to play that out, taking her words at face value, without any ulterior motive.

  “I kind of do. Not sure there was ever a day that chocolate was more needed.”

  Julie eyed me, her face half turned and suspicious. “I’ve got another stash. If you want it.”

  “Do you want … Can we share them? Wow, I’m such a jerk—offering to share your chocolates with you. I’m sorry.”

  Julie edged a step toward me. “I’ve never had chocolates for breakfast before. My parents are strict about when candy should be eaten.”

  I jiggled the box at her, tantalizingly. “College is the time to be breaking rules.”

  And just like that, Julie and I were sitting at either end of the couch, tucked under the same blanket with two mostly eaten boxes of chocolates between us.

  It was amazing what chocolate could do. I’d always assumed Julie didn’t like me, but it was so clear to me now that that’d been my own way of keeping her at a distance. And here I was, accidently making new friends when it was a time when I most shouldn’t.

  An image of Julie and her wide, brown eyes, crying for me at my funeral made me choke up.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, just chocolate going down the wrong way.” I swallowed, and shook my head. “No. That was a lie. I have become way too used to lying lately. I’m sorry, I’m an awful person. I’m going through some stuff, and I don’t want you to have to worry about me.”

  Julie just shrugged. “You’re my housemate.”

  As though that answered everything.

  “I can’t believe this is the most we’ve ever really talked. What a waste of time, and chances for eating chocolate for breakfast together,” I said.

  Julie’s expression didn’t change a bit. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

  “No. You’re great. You’re the best flat mate I could have hoped for. I’ve just been all kinds of bitch lately.”

  I put the empty chocolate box over on the coffee table and stood up from the lounge, stretching. “This has been really nice, but I’ve got somewhere to be today.”

  “Do you want … someone to come with you?” Julie mumbled.

  I smiled at her and her offer. Even if I couldn’t read her, she clearly had a read on me. But what I was about to do next wasn’t quite the kind of relationship I wanted with Julie. “Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay. Blake is helping me with this one.”

  She smil
ed at the mention of his name. “He’s a nice guy. I’m glad he’s there for you.”

  Julie stood up as well, standing still a few steps away from me. Then she wrapped awkward arms around me for barely a second and disappeared into her room again, and it was one of the best hugs I’d ever had.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Georgina

  I sat propped up at the bar, staring at the contents of my glass and trying not to giggle. Blake and I were scoping out potential women for me, or for us really. I did want to take it seriously, but the whole thing gave me the giggles. It was like kissing Christy Roberts while playing spin the bottle. We could barely keep our lips pursed we were laughing so much.

  Blake kept making the craziest suggestions, like the woman with the big 80s hair and six-inch heels who looked like she was in her sixties.

  “She’s taken really good care of her body,” I observed. “Her legs look hot in those jeggings.”

  “What the heck are jeggings?”

  I pointed up and down at the woman’s legs, which were flashing with rhinestones. “Leggings made to look like jeans.”

  “Is that what those are? I was wondering how she got jeans to fit so tightly without popping an organ. Then again, most of the things women manage to do in the name of beauty confound the hell out of me.” He slugged back half a beer.

  My phone pinged with a new message.

  Julie: I can’t believe we ate chocolate for breakfast. It’s so naughty.

  You think that’s naughty? I’m glad I didn’t tell you about the rest of what I have planned tonight.

  Me: You loved it. There’s $20 stashed under the pizza flyer on the fridge. I’ll love you for the rest of my life if you stock us up again.

  Julie: As long as we can eat it together.

  Me: Deal.

  Blake watched me texting. I wasn’t normally the kind of person to text when I was around other people, not that I was often around other people, or had anyone to text. I kind of liked having someone I could text. Still, I put my phone away and scanned the crowd again.