Key to My Heart: An Anthology of Sweet Romance

by Alice La Roux

  And just as we thought, the heavens above us open up and the rain starts to pelt down us, soaking us to the bone as we run across the road and find shelter in a bus stop.

  “Oh sweet Lord, I didn’t think it would be that bad.” He laughs as he attempts to pull his wet T-shirt away from his body.

  It’s standing here in this rusty bus stop that I realise that even at my age, this boy has changed my life, even if he doesn’t know it.

  He’s special.

  He’s not like other boys.

  Matteo actually cares about me and my feelings. My heart beats violently against my rib cage; the thought of having to say goodbye to him in just over a weeks time is already plaguing me. I know it’s going be the most awful thing I’ve ever had to do, but I try not to think about it right now—I just want spend the next week lost in him, consumed and wrapped up in everything that is Matteo Bianchi.

  Holding me to him to keep us warm, I feel his phone vibrate again in his pocket. He ignores it, yet again.

  “Let’s get you back; you need dry clothes before you catch your death. Then where will I be without you out in the world somewhere?” I think he’s joking when he says that, but when I lean back in his arms I can see the seriousness of his words in the depths of his eyes.

  “Matteo…”

  “Sshhh, bellissimo. Don’t speak—just know that I love you, and when this is all over, please don’t ever think that I will forget about you. You’re in here…” He presses his hand to his chest, right above his heart. “And that is where you will stay, forever.” When he’s finished speaking, I’ve got a lump the size of a golf ball in my throat, and at the same, time I’m trying my hardest not to let the tears fall.

  “Non essere arrabbiato, bambino. Hai portato luce al mio buio e per questo ti devo così tanto, più di quanto tu possa mai capire.” A lone tear escapes as he speaks in his own language, and even though I don’t know what he’s said, I can tell that it means something to him—that I mean something to him.

  Hand in hand, we eventually leave our little shelter and he walks me back to my Aunt's house. We make plans to meet each other in the morning at the bottom of the steps by the pier where we first met. That spot has quickly become our place, seeing as it holds memories for us now. Reaching the front door, he cradles my head in his hands and kisses me softly. “Remember that I love you; never forget that.”

  “I won’t, but you’re worrying me now. Is everything ok?” My voice wobbles, and I’m almost certain I’m about to beg him not go home and to stay with me. But I don’t. I’m being silly. He’s always been this open with me.

  “Everything is fine. Now go on in; it’s getting colder and your teeth are starting to chatter. I will see you in the morning, bambino.” With one last peck of his lips to my wet brow, he walks down the path with a wave and a smile, reassuring me that everything is actually in fact ok.

  I don’t need an alarm for it to tell me that it’s a brand new day outside my bedroom window: the sun shining through tells me that today is going to be another good day…

  What I don’t know at the time is that the day will change me forever…

  Chapter One

  Dropping my bags from my aching shoulders at the nondescript white front door, I take in my new home. I’ve never been here before, my parents divorced when I was five and my mum got custody because my dad worked so much. He moved here, saying that my mum should keep their house and keep my life as normal as possible. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen him over the years. Spoken to him even more, he’s not a bad father. In fact I get on with him really well, he was just...not there, but now he is.

  He is waiting for me behind this door, I wonder if he is as nervous as I am? He hasn't seen me since the court hearing where he obtained custody of me from my aunt. It’s been a rough year and a half, that's for sure. Although I didn’t want to leave my home, my life, and my friends, I was kind of excited to start living with my dad. Facing the door now though, makes it all real, and I instantly miss the relaxing hugs from my best friend Amber and the sarcastic replies Lee, my other best friend, would give me. I need to remember to ring them later.

  Daisy, stop stalling, I berate myself and with a deep inhale I raise my hand and knock. Holding my breath, my fingers tight on the duffel bag laid at my feet, I wait nervously. One minute turns into five and I look around before knocking again.

  I hear swearing and thumping from inside, making me step back with a raised eyebrow before the front door is flung open, and a disheveled and tired looking Malcolm Hettie, Malc for short, is framed in the light from the sun behind me.

  He scrubs at his tired eyes, the bags underneath letting me know he has been working instead of sleeping again. His normally smiling lips are pulled down in a frown, and his jaw is covered in grey and black stubble. His head is a mess, the short black, peppered with grey locks sticking up everywhere. Wrinkles pull taught on his handsome face and I almost grin at the grease smudges across his forehead.

  I take in the rest of him like I haven't seen him for years. A white stained tank top is pulled across his chest, half tucked into unbuttoned blue jeans. His feet are bare and somehow he even managed to get grease on his toes. The life of a mechanic I suppose. I never really understood his love of cars, I prefer music myself, writing out words and transforming people by song, but watching him fix something used to amuse me for hours. I still remember all the late afternoons and nights spent in his shop, watching him animatedly explain what was wrong with a car or bike and how he was going to fix it. Those visits where over far to soon though and he was living in a cramped apartment at the time, not the best place for a teenage girl.

  “Daisy Bug?” He yawns and I grin this time, before pushing back my long brown hair behind my left ear. No doubt the sun is catching my natural blonde highlights, and when his eyes widen and his mouth opens comically in an ‘O’ I almost sigh, casting down my deep brown eyes.

  I don’t look like my father, in fact I am the spitting image of my mother. Tall willowy body with legs that go on for days, as Amber would say, golden skin and a cute, mature face. My eyelashes don't need mascara and I don’t really wear much makeup, just good genes I guess. But when I smile? That’s all my dad. A blinder, my mum used to call it. She said the first time she saw it she fell in love, more like lust, but who am I to correct her?

  It stretches both our faces, pulling out our dimples and it’s impossible not to return, and when he laughs? It’s like nothing else in the world, it’s like coming home.

  “Damn it, I’m sorry sweetie. I forgot what time it was, I got caught fixing a bug, they had a malfunctioning…” He trails off, brushing back his hair and looking behind him before turning to face me, a genuine smile in place. “Welcome home, Daisy Bug.”

  “So, erm. I’m working again tonight—” He glances at the clock with a disappointed frown. “Why don’t you check out the summer fair that’s just rolled into town and we can meet back here tonight for a late tea?”

  Gripping the can of coke in both hands I nod distractedly, busy staring at the mess around me. When he led me to the kitchen after taking my bags upstairs, he made a mad dash trying to clean up, but it actually made me laugh. I’m glad to see he hasn't changed much, Mum would always get on about him cleaning up after himself. A pang of longing hits me, making me drop my eyes to the table. I don't know how he knows I’m thinking about her, but he reaches over and covers my hands on the cold can.

  “I miss her too, Bug, I’m so sorry I wasn't there,” he says softly, and my breath catches at the reminder of how alone I was when I got the news.

  Shaking my head, clearing away the bad memories, I budge his hands and bring the can to my mouth, taking a sip.

  “Fair huh? Sounds fun.”

  “You deserve fun Daisy Bug, this could be a fresh start for you. Why not go? Make some friends? Enjoy your summer. I'll be back at nine. I better go, sweetie.” He stands from the table, and drops a quick kiss on my forehead, before grabbi
ng his boots and slipping from the house. The front door closes behind him, leaving me all alone for the first time since my mum died.

  Breathing in deep, I down my drink and drop it into the bin next to the sink. Fun. I can do that. It feels like something I did a long time ago, but who am I to argue with him?

  Chapter Two

  Fair. He called it a fair. It’s more like a city.

  Standing at the arched iron gates of the old, empty race track where the fair has been set up I take in the bright lights, sounds of games, laughter and screams, and the smell of fried food and sugar. It brings back a lot of memories—my friends and I always used to come to fairs when they came to town. They were never this big though.

  Before I’d gone out, I’d switched my military style heeled boots for some converse and grabbed the key my dad had left. Thinking back, I probably should have grabbed a jacket, but I’ll just have to make sure I’m back before it gets dark, the English nighttime weather isn’t kind.

  My phone vibrates in my bra, I really need to find a new place to put it, or a dress with pockets. Pulling it out, I check my messages to see two in the group chat called ‘Besties.’ Grinning, I swipe and scroll back to see the sad faces and the few simple words.

  I miss you.

  I reply instantaneously, grief and loneliness tangling in my chest. I have a few months before I start school again and I’m not looking forward to it. It’s one thing starting a new year, but another to start a new school all together. I’m not going to know anyone and I will be the weird outcast with the dead parent. Unless... they don't find out.

  Someone bangs into me and the person who did it apologises. Smiling slightly back, I shove my phone away before I drop it and follow the other people inside the fair.

  I shiver with the cool breeze, as it moves my knee-length yellow and red hemmed dressed around my legs. Amber always calls my style Chic or Boho. Others call it weird. I was never insanely popular back at my old school, but I got on with everyone and it worked. I’m going to miss that, even the nose wrinkling smell that used to follow my history teacher, Mr. Motely, around. Or the old cabin like buildings Geography was taught in. I’ll even miss the bad lunches.

  Most of all, I’ll miss not being alone.

  Something hits my legs, sending me sprawling forward into a hard chest. Looking up with wide eyes, I meet the sparking brown ones of a teenage boy. Around the same age as me, his eyes are flecked with gold and his smile stretches across his handsome face. His thick, strong brown eyebrows are arched down at me, and his curly short brown hair moving across his face adorably in the breeze.

  Blushing hard at being caught checking him out, I straighten and move out of his arms.

  “Thanks for the save,” I offer timidly, looking around for what knocked me over. I spot a young girl hiding behind his black jean clad legs. Her pigtails peeking out with the same big brown eyes of the boy in front of me.

  “No worries, I think Vikkie should be saying sorry though.” He looks back at the girl who giggles and darts to his side, an innocent smile pulling at her chubby face. She’s cute and obviously related to him, I would guess his sister, and she has to be around eleven, maybe younger.

  “Sorry!” she blurts out, looking at me with that infectious smile they both have. “You are really pretty, isn’t she really pretty Jem?” She nudges the older boy and he winks down at her.

  “She is, Vik.” He looks back at me with his smile still in place and my heart starts to race, butterflies taking flight in my stomach.

  “Are you new? Do you go to our school?” Vikkie asks, the questions tumbling from her excited mouth.

  Jem, as she called him, opens his mouth but I beat him to it. “I’m new, and I am guessing so?”

  He looks back at me, taking me in again before extending his hand. “I’m Jaimie, this little monster here is Vikkie, my sister.” I notice the red and white paint on his hand and throw him a look. He just keeps smiling and I take his hand, shaking it before pulling back my own.

  “You didn’t say your name, silly.” Vikkie laughs.

  “Daisy Hettie,” I reply seriously, flourishing a bow at Vikkie and sending her into giggles again.

  “Nice to meet you Daisy,” Jaimie replies.

  I smile back, but we are interrupted by a group of giggling girls sliding up next to us. They all start to gush at Jamie, completely ignoring a bored looking Vikkie.

  “Jaimie, I didn’t know you were coming!”

  “Oh my god, you have to get a picture with us!”

  They carry on and I roll my eyes, with a smile at Vikkie I head around them and into the fair. Not a moment later I feel a hand tug at my arm. Looking down, I laugh at Vikkie.

  “I don't like those girls. They are so obsessed with themselves. I just want to play on the rides and eat all the food,” she says snottily, making me laugh.

  “Me too,” I reply, just as an out of breath running Jaimie grabs Vikkie around the waist and spins her around.

  “No running off Vik. Come on, let’s escape before the horde finds us again.” He grins over at me. “Nice to meet you Hettie!” He takes off into the fair, a giggling Vikkie in his arms, and when I look back I spot the narrowed eyed look of the horde, as he called them—the group of girls who were gushing over him before.

  I wave at them sarcastically, and if their dirty looks are anything to go by, they don’t think much to me—yay for making friends. I slip into the maze of the fair, ready to stuff myself on fatty foods and ride the rides, and win myself a stuffed bear at hook a duck.

  Chapter Three

  After stuffing my face with one too many hot dogs and almost losing my tea on the waltzers, I decide to head to the arcade to slow down a bit and let my stomach settle.

  I spotted the horde of girls a few times, they seem to be taking pictures and just wandering aimlessly instead of enjoying the fair, so when I find Jaimie and Vikkie hiding away in the arcade trailer I almost laugh.

  They are behind an air hockey table, crouched down giggling. He has his finger to his lips, his eyes sparkling as he takes in his laughing sister.

  “Hiding are we?” I laugh and both of their eyes dart up to mine. Vikkie flings herself at me with a squeal and Jaimie grins, standing up before leaning against the hockey table.

  “Is the coast clear?” he whispers, looking around in fake horror.

  “You’re safe, they just headed over to the tables under the lights to take more photos,” I whisper back, winking down at Vikkie.

  “Thank god,” he replies, shivering in fake horror.

  “Daisy’s a strange name, does your mother or father like flowers?” Vikkie asks, interrupting mine and Jaimie's shared smile.

  “My mother did, her name was Rose,” I reply immediately, my smile disappearing at the painful reminder.

  “Rose and Daisy, it’s nice. Wait, did?” Vikkie scrunches up her nose adorably. This kid is way too mature for her age.

  “My mother died a year and a half ago,” I reply, my eyes flitting around the bustling arcade trailer. Slot machines, crane games, dance machines, you name it, it has it. When no one else speaks, I look back to see Vikkie’s sad face, but what stops me is Jaimie’s. Usually I would get the awkward sympathy look, but a soft understanding fills his eyes, making me fidget. “It was a car accident, drunk driver,” I blurt, my mouth snapping shut. I have no idea why I just told them that.

  “I’m sorry, Hettie,” Jaimie says, reaching out and laying a hand on my arm. When he says it, it sounds like he actually means it. Not like so many people who say it because they feel they have to and are fake about it. His voice is filled with sadness and I can feel the honestly ringing in his rich baritone. His hand on my arm causes me to shiver, the heat burning through my skin and almost branding me. I've never felt this instantly drawn to a boy before, like every time he smiles at me, looks at me or touches me, my heart might jump out of my chest. Swallowing hard, I meet his eyes and nod, afraid to speak.

  “Me too, Daisy.
It’s hard to lose a parent. Jem always says other people can’t understand,” Vikkie whispers, and I look down to see her eyes round and sad. That's when it hits me, the girl who lost her mum. The one people whispered about, who they pitied, I was so focused on my own pain I didn’t notice theirs. They are the same.

  They have lost someone, they actually do understand. Crouching down, I tug on one of Vikkie's pigtail. “They don't always, they try though and that’s what matters. Now, how about we hide out from those annoying girls and make your brother win us some stuff?” I whisper to her, pretending Jaimie can’t hear us as we conspire together.

  She laughs again, her face lighting up. “Yes!” She races around, her face pushing into the glass looking for the prize she wants. Straightening, I meet Jaimie’s grateful eyes.

  “Thank you,” he murmurs softly, stepping closer.

  “You’re welcome, she’s a great kid,” I reply, meeting those intense eyes again. I feel like I’m falling, like I can’t catch my breath.

  “She is, some people find it weird how close we are, but when my dad died he left a hole. My mum picked up more shifts at the hospital, which just meant I had to be there more for her, you know?” He shifts his eyes nervously, rubbing the back of his head.

  Is he afraid I’ll judge him for enjoying spending time with his sister? Instead of going to parties or whatever?

  Leaning forward, I grab his hand and squeeze. “I think it's amazing, I wish I had someone there for me like you two are.” His eyes drop to our hands and I blush and pull away, turning back to the air hockey table to try and hide my red cheeks.

  “You’re cute when you go all shy, Hettie,” he teases, whispering it in my ear.

  “Shut up, Jemmmm,” I taunt and he laughs.