The Fragile Ordinary

by Samantha Young

  “Okay.” Dad shrugged.

  I blinked, taken aback. “Okay? Just like that?”

  “If it’s important to you, why not? It won’t take up much of my time and it would be nice to be involved in your school. You know if you ever needed me to come in and talk to your class about creative writing, I could do that, too.”

  I tried not to blush, remembering my lie to Mr. Stone. “Cool. I’ll let Mr. Stone know. About talking to our class, as well.” I was feeling a little shocked that he’d agreed so easily. “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Right.” I gave him a shaky, relieved smile. “Thanks, Kyle.”

  His smile was soft, almost sad. “You’re welcome, Comet.”

  THE FRAGILE ORDINARYSAMANTHA YOUNG

  27

  Today I was a bird,

  The sky my vast stage.

  “Free” not just a word,

  As I left behind my cage.

  —CC

  To no one’s surprise Luke asked Vicki out. To everyone’s surprise but my own she told him to ask her again once the exams were over. I could tell by her smart quips toward him that she liked him. Jordan had put her on the defense at the beginning of school. I think testing Luke to see if he would still be interested in two weeks—which let’s face it was like a year in teenage-boy-attention-span-time—helped her make the decision to say yes to him when he asked her out. And he not only asked her out, he waited outside the hall where her final exam was taking place and asked her as soon as she walked out the door.

  We all found a rhythm together, us and the rugby boys eating lunch together every day; sometimes we’d welcome other classmates, sometimes it was just a few of us. Tobias and I even went out on a double date with Vicki and Luke.

  Steph did not feel left out, because Steph was enjoying basking in the attention of all boys. Andy, thankfully, seemed to realize quite quickly that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Steph and he turned his attention to a girl on the Portobello girls’ junior rugby team. She was taller than him. And possibly stronger. But the boy was smitten.

  As for me I hadn’t escaped my friends’ curiosity over the look Tobias and I had shared in the cafeteria that day. They’d asked me outright if Tobias and I had had sex and I admitted we had. Vicki was full of curious questions while Steph seemed happy, but as always there was an undercurrent of competition there. It wouldn’t surprise me if my friend decided not to remain a virgin for very long. She hated to be left behind. Vicki on the other hand could not be moved to do something she wasn’t ready for. Like me she’d wait until it felt right.

  Tobias and I...well we were better than great. Closer than ever and yet both excelling separately. His improvement on the rugby team really impressed his coach. To the disgruntlement of the current fly-half player, Tobias was to play the position in the next game, and if he did well he could become the team’s permanent fly-half. Although Tobias had attempted to explain the game to me, I still wasn’t clear what all the positions meant. I did know that the fly-half was similar to a quarterback in football, so it made sense that Tobias would be good in that position. Thankfully, he wasn’t displacing any of his friends at school but someone from the private boys’ school just outside Porty, so he could avoid any awkward tension it might cause.

  Our friends already had their set positions on the team. David, being the tallest and broadest of all the boys, was strong so he was the team’s prop. I think he basically did what the title said—he propped up his team players in the scrum. I think.

  Luke was the hooker, and as funny as the title was, I gathered from how the other guys were with him that he was a pretty important player. Both Michael and Mike were wingers. Don’t ask. I couldn’t tell you.

  And Andy was a scrum-half.

  Again, who knows?

  I was hoping the more games I went to the more I’d understand what was going on and what all the rugby jargon meant.

  The point was that Tobias was doing well. Every day he seemed to shed a little of his grief and anger. Of course, I knew he’d never get over what had happened to his dad and the circumstances surrounding his death, but I felt like he was finally moving on.

  As for me, Mr. Stone was ecstatic Dad had agreed to join the lit mag, and my English teacher and I had moved full-speed ahead with the magazine. He advertised it in class and we’d set up an email address for people to submit their poetry, short stories and essays. We’d put together a small team that included ourselves, Pamela Perry and the two fourth years Mr. Stone mentioned whom I’d never met before—two girls, Amy and Lucy. Moreover, I’d gathered the courage to ask the boys if they’d be interested in the lit mag, and Andy’d said he wanted to join us. He also brought along a boy called Thomas whom Andy knew from the football team. It was an eclectic mix of people with differing opinions. Sometimes they were frustrating and sometimes they were fun. What was really fun, however, was the fact that we got submissions from students. Actual submissions. Andy took leadership over the layout of the website and magazine, and we worked with him on the look and feel of it, while we worked out which pieces to publish first.

  Some had sent in their work anonymously through private email addresses, while others were brave enough to own it, sending it from their school email account. And every time I read a piece of work that had been written by someone who wasn’t afraid to admit it was their work, I felt a surge of something inside of me.

  Whatever the feeling was, it was pushing me to be brave, too.

  * * *

  With life at school incredibly busy, it was the end of January before I knew it and the morning of my seventeenth birthday. For the first time I was truly excited for it, because I had people who cared about me and wanted to share it with me.

  Tobias and Vicki had already blown my phone up with happy birthday texts and gifs.

  I wasn’t expecting much from my parents, who had continued to avoid each other by burying themselves in work. Every birthday was the same as Christmas. I got vouchers for the bookstore.

  Lucky me, my birthday fell on a Saturday this year and I was meeting my friends for a celebratory breakfast at the Espy. Dressed in a blue velvet dress with buttons up the front, a white Peter Pan collar and puff-sleeves, I felt girly and happy. I loved velvet. The skirt hit me just above the knee, so I’d paired the dress with thick dark pink tights. It was still too cold and wet for flats, so I was wearing black wedge boots that were mostly made up of a large fur collar. Over the dress, I wore my blue winter coat and dark pink scarf, bobble hat and gloves.

  Stopping in at the kitchen for a quick glass of water, I was startled by the sound of Dad’s voice behind me.

  “Happy birthday, Comet.”

  I spun around to find him standing in the doorway, wearing an expression I didn’t quite understand. “Thanks.”

  “Seventeen.” He pushed off the doorway, and my gaze snagged on the wrapped gift in his hands. Surprise held me immobile. “I can’t believe it. You’ll be eighteen before we know it.” Words unsaid hung heavily in the air: and then you’ll be gone.

  I frowned, wondering at the melancholy in his tone, confused by it.

  “Anyway, happy birthday.” He handed me the present.

  Staring at the book-shaped package, I didn’t move to open it for a moment. I was bemused by the whole encounter. Finally, I carefully tore the wrapping and a soft gasp escaped me. The smell of real leather hit my nostrils as I smoothed my fingers over the handmade leather wrap journal he’d given me. It even had leather ties. It was thick and lush-feeling, and when I opened it to find lined paper inside, I was startled to discover a handwritten inscription on the first page.

  Comet,

  I have no doubt that as long as you put you into your writing people will fall in love with the beauty of your words. You’re the best person I’ve ever known, kid.

  Love alw
ays,

  Dad

  Tears filled my eyes and clogged my throat as the words blurred together from my emotion. They seemed surreal. Like words written for someone else in some other house on a beach thousands of miles away.

  But Kyle had written them.

  My dad had written them for me.

  And although the gesture could never wipe away the tears of the past, I would cherish them anyway.

  At the feel of his lips on my temple, a tear splashed down my cheek. I waited until I heard his footsteps fade out of the kitchen and down the hall before I looked up, wiping the tear away. I hugged the journal to my chest, already designating it as the journal only the poems I felt most strongly about would be written in.

  A little melancholy clung to me as I walked down the esplanade to the pub, wishing my dad and I could somehow magically unite to rewrite our past. We couldn’t. Still...his words meant a lot to me.

  The lingering sadness I felt, however, was pushed to the depths of my mind as soon as I walked inside the pub to a chorus of shouts of “Happy birthday!” My gaze flew toward the table opposite the bar and right next to the bay window looking out over the beach.

  Tobias, Vicki, Luke, Steph and Andy were standing at the table and Steph was waving a Happy Birthday banner back and forth. I grinned at my friends, skipping up the small set of steps to greet them. Tobias approached me first, enveloping me in his warm, strong hug—a hug that I’d become addicted to. Truly. If I didn’t get a hug from Tobias at least once a day it put me in an irritable mood. If I was a better person I’d suggest he donate his hugs to charity the way puppy dogs were used in children’s hospitals to cheer them up.

  But I was selfish and wanted to keep his supply of hugs to myself.

  “Nice outfit,” Vicki praised as I shrugged out of my coat after hugging all of them. Tobias held out my chair for me as I thanked him and Vicki at the same time. “You look great.”

  “So does my vintage baby doll,” Steph laughed at Andy, expecting him to chuckle with her. He just raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing an undercurrent in her words but being a boy not understanding.

  But I understood cattiness. And I was braver than I used to be. I grinned at her, deciding to kill her with kindness. “We get it, Steph. You hate the way I dress. It embarrasses you. I’m sorry about that, but this is me.”

  She looked mortified. “I didn’t mean... I mean...”

  “Anyhoo!” Vicki rescued us all. “Presents!”

  The awkward moment dissipated as I was spoiled like I’d never been spoiled before. Vicki and Steph had gone in on a gift together, buying me five cloth-bound books from the new Penguin Classics collection that I’d been mooning over for weeks. Along with that they’d given me a box of my favorite chocolates. To my delight both Andy and Luke gave me a birthday card with vouchers for books inside it from them and the rest of the guys.

  Tobias was last, handing me a small, neatly wrapped gift. “Maybe you could open it later.”

  I nodded, my curiosity piqued. “Of course.”

  “Aw, did ye get her somethin’ cheesy ye don’t want the rest of us to see, King?” Luke teased.

  Tobias sighed. “Whatever.”

  “He did.” Andy laughed. “Oh come on, Com, open it. Let us see.”

  “Nope.” I tucked the gift into my bag. “For my eyes only.”

  Tobias smiled at me in gratitude. “So birthday girl...breakfast is on us. What do you want?”

  “Do you even have to ask?”

  He and Vicki exchanged a look. “Belgian waffles.”

  I giggled happily.

  Best birthday ever.

  It was only proved as such later that night when I snuck Tobias into my room. We’d spent the whole day with our friends in the city. First we’d gone to the cinema to see the latest Marvel flick, and then we’d just wandered around, checking out shops together, having a laugh.

  Being with them all was great. Having them in my life was something I hadn’t even realized I was missing. Yet, I was also desperate to get Tobias alone so I could open his present.

  “Finally!” I threw myself on my bed and immediately dived into my bag for the gift.

  I was aware of Tobias taking a seat on the armchair across from me but I was mostly focused on the present.

  Caressing the paper, I was at once excited and nervous. There was always a chance of not liking a gift someone I loved gave me and I wasn’t sure I was very good at lying.

  “Would you open it already?”

  I bit my lip at his nervous impatience. “Sorry.” I tore the paper, and my heart started to pound when I realized it was a Thomas Sabo jewelry box. Inside I discovered a thin rose-gold double-banded bracelet. The metal of the bracelets was twisted to make it look like rope. Decorating the middle was a rose-gold, unopened lotus flower inside a larger opened flower. Four tiny crystals embellished the inner flower, sparkling and catching in the light. A card fell out as I picked up the delicate, beautiful bracelet, and I opened it only to suck in my breath at the words he’d scrawled on it.

  Every beautiful thing I see reminds me of you so it was hard to choose just one. But I thought you’d like this one best.

  Happy 17th Birthday, Comet.

  I love you more each day.

  Tobias

  I looked up, tears shimmering in my eyes, at his expectant, wary expression. “Do you like it?”

  Carefully, I placed the card and the bracelet aside and then I launched myself across the room at him. His surprised laughter was cut off by my kisses.

  He temporarily broke free of my passion to say breathlessly as he carried me across the room toward my bed, “I guess you like it.”

  “Love it,” I corrected him, laughing as we bounced across my mattress.

  “Shh.” He reminded me my parents were upstairs and I tried to stifle my giggles. “We better be quiet or Kyle will kick me out before I give you your other present.”

  At his wicked expression I muffled more laughter. “So full of yourself, King.”

  He grinned cockily. “With reason.”

  I bit my lip to stifle more laughter and then he was kissing me, stifling it for me.

  Yeah.

  Definitely my best birthday ever.

  THE FRAGILE ORDINARYSAMANTHA YOUNG

  28

  The sky fell down today

  And shattered into pieces.

  —CC

  “It’s hopeless,” I bemoaned.

  “What?” Vicki said, concerned.

  “I’m never going to understand rugby!”

  As if to illustrate my point something happened on the field and people standing on the sidelines beside us cheered. Including Tobias’s mum. “What? What did I miss?”

  Lena grinned. “I have no idea. I just went with the crowd. But I think Tobias’s team is doing well.”

  I turned to my best friend. “Please tell me you know what the hell is going on.”

  “Not a clue.” Vicki shrugged. “Luke talks to me about the game and I think I understand what he’s talking about while he’s talking about it but as soon as he stops it’s like all that information just dribbles out of my ears.”

  “Get used to that, girls,” Lena said. “It’s called spousal memory loss.”

  We laughed loudly, drawing a glare from one of our team supporters, which only made us laugh harder. Once we’d calmed we turned our attention back to the game and I concentrated so hard on trying to work out what was going on that I missed the fact that Tobias had scored. Everyone started cheering, so we started cheering, too.

  “Did they win?” I cried. “Did they win?”

  “I think they won!” Lena grinned.

  “They won!” the disgruntled man who had glared at us earlier confirmed, making us cheer with delight again.

  Tobias celebrated
with manly hugs and pats on the back with his team and coach, and then he and Luke started to make their way toward us. Lena’s phone rang, and she frowned at the screen. “Go congratulate the boys. I have to take this.” She strode away from the loud crowds as Vicki and I hurried to meet our boyfriends.

  “Well done!” I cried as Tobias swung me up in his arms. His skin felt slick and hot, and he smelled of fresh sweat and heat. I kissed him in congratulations, feeling him smile against my mouth, and when I pulled back he grinned from ear to ear.

  It was the first time I’d seen this side of him—his triumphant sportsman side. He seemed to vibrate with energy and joy. Being around him was heady. “Wow. I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “Like what?” he asked, squeezing my waist to keep my close.

  “All jazzed and giddy.”

  Tobias rolled his eyes in good humor. “I’m a guy, Com. I don’t do giddy.”

  “Well you’re the man-version of giddy.”

  He laughed and hugged me, lifting me right off my feet and I enjoyed the moment.

  I’m glad I did.

  Because the next...

  As my boyfriend lowered me to my feet, his gaze moved over my shoulder. The smile on his lips died as his brows drew together. “Mom?”

  I turned in his arms to find Lena standing in front of us, her mobile curled tight in her fist, her face leached of all color. The bleak expression in her eyes made me freeze in place.

  “Mom?” Tobias gently eased away from me to approach her. He touched her arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “That was Carole,” she said, her voice hushed. “Stevie... I’m sorry, son. Stevie’s dead. He...” She shrugged, looking as confused and scared as I suddenly felt. “He overdosed.”

  No.

  No!

  NO!

  My hands flew to my mouth as if to stop the sudden wave of nausea from vomiting out of me. The field around me blurred at the edges and wavered as I swayed on my feet. I was vaguely aware of someone putting an arm around me and asking me if I was okay, but all I could do was stare at Tobias. He stumbled back from Lena, the color drained from his cheeks, and then suddenly he bent over, his heads on his knees as he struggled to draw breath.