Young and Reckless

Sian’s melodic voice floats back to where I lay on the hood of my car. She’s dancing, hopping from foot to foot with grace I only wish I had, and her white sundress is stained yellow and translucent golden by sunlight and pollen. A straw sunhat sits on top of her honey-coloured hair, casting a dark shadow across one side of her porcelain doll face. She twirls around and leaps, spreading her arms and legs in mid-air; she looks as beautiful and poised as a prima ballerina. Pete is lying on his back, staring up at the sky and twiddling a blade of grass between his finger and thumb. She calls him and he props himself up on his elbows to look at her. I roll over on the peeling brown paint of the hood of my car and rest my cheek against the windshield. I drift between listening to Sian’s chatter and watching my slow, steady breaths condense on the glass.

“Emily!” She calls my name. I think it’s best not to respond but I hear her coming towards the car, her footsteps now loud and clumsy, and sit up. She flashes her smile at me but I’m not fooled, or at least, not won over. She takes my hand in hers and I let her drag me away to the flattened patch of grass made by the vast Plymouth Valiant. She throws herself onto the ground leans back to gaze at the fluffy clouds overhead and I follow suit. Pete hasn’t spoken to me since our early morning conversation. He hasn’t looked at me either and that doesn’t change now; he avoids my gaze by lying back down and closing his eyes.

The honey-haired goddess has followed Pete’s example and is lying down with her eyes closed. I look back and forth, from Sian to Pete to Sian and back again. I can see why he’s chosen her over myself. Honey-coloured curls and eyes like oceans, skin like the special china that never comes out of the glass case and a voice like a mother’s lullaby. The familiar wave of envy sweeps over me but it’s gone as quickly as it had come. Sian opens one eye and peers up at me, patting the ground beside her head she says, “Lie down Emily, it’s comfier than you’d think and nature has a great smell.” I smile faintly and do as she’s suggested.

With my eyes closed I find it easier to imagine the world as I would like it to be. In my make-believe behind closed eyelids world Sian is... elsewhere and Peter and I are alone in the field. We lay side by side, holding hands, our fingers intertwined. He rolls onto his side and twirls a strand of my hair around one finger, smiling. It’s easy to imagine with my eyes closed and even easier to believe in the silence that comes with being in the middle of nowhere. But I open my eyes and Sian is lying next to Pete and Pete is lying next to Sian and they’re the ones holding hands. I push myself off of the ground silently and venture further into the field.

The rapeseed comes up to my waist and its pollen stains my clothes. I wade through it as though I were swimming through a sea of custard. There are yellow flowers as far as I can see and the horizon isn’t even visible. Even the sky seems to be tinted with a yellow glow. I spread my arms wide and fall back, landing on the ground with a soft thud. Some tall stalks spring back up around me and I become hidden. I feel alone but relieved, in a way I feel free. I close my eyes, thinking about feeling free, being free and how lonely freedom could be.

*

“Emily!” The golden divinity calls my name. My eyelids fly open, revealing the star-strewn night sky and the waning moon. I open my mouth to answer back, to direct to where I am, but think better of it. I stare at the indigo expanse of sky. When I was little girl my mother taught me a rhyme and told me that it was the rhyme I had to recite before making a wish on a star.

Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.

Pete’s voice cuts through my wish: “Emily!” I hear footsteps getting closer and louder. In the middle of trying to figure from which direction the footsteps are coming I hear a crunch. It’s a bone-cracking crunch, quite literally. I look at the foot on top of my hand and realise I ought to be feeling pain. Sian screams, jumps backwards, trips and falls over. I bring my fingers to my face and hold them in front of my eyes, inspecting them. The pain is creeping down my arm, like Jerry trying to slip past Tom.

“Sian, are you okay?”

I roll onto my stomach, taking care not to put any pressure on my fingers. Sian and Pete are only a few feet away from me. Pete’s on his knees by her side, she’s on her back with one hand pointing in my direction.

“I stepped on something - over there.”

Pete’s head turns to look where Sian’s pointing.

“Yeah, me,” I grumble, pushing myself up onto my knees with one hand. I speak with more spitefulness than I intended but I don’t try to make amends for it.

Pete watches me, not saying anything. Emily scrambles towards me and takes my hand, holding it up so that the moonlight illuminates it. “Did I hurt you?”

Not wanting to make her feel guilty, I shrug. “It’s not that bad...” She grabs the three middle fingers and moves them back and forth. I bite down on my lip and force a smile. “Doesn’t hurt much.” She ignores me.

“Pete! Go get some bandages!” Turning back to me, the goddess says, “Oh God, I’m so sorry, really. I didn’t mean to, oh my God...” I pat her shoulder in a way that’s meant to be consoling and tell her it’s okay, it doesn’t hurt that much, not much at all.

“She says it doesn’t hurt, why does she need bandages?” Pete asks, leaning over us and looking at my fingers. He is looking directly at Sian, ignoring me completely.

“Does it hurt, Emily?”

“Nah, it’s - fuck!” Sian grabs my fingers and squeezes them. I pull my hand away and bring it to my chest, stroking it with the other hand protectively.

Still facing Sian, Pete says, “Looks like I’ll be driving tonight.”