Chasing Chaos

2009

I’d spent most of the evening wandering haplessly and ignoring phone calls, only stopping for the occasional refuel, also known as the occasional drink. At that point, if I stopped drinking, I would also stop moving. And that was no good. I needed to continue walking so that I would have time to dissect everything that was happening. To pick it apart and find a solution.

But the more I ambled and the more I drank, the more I realized that it didn’t require much picking apart. It was not as complicated as I made it. Also, I came to see that I already had a built in solution. On Monday, I was to return to Birmingham, where I could hide from these issues until Christmas at least. If I was lucky. This could be my excuse. And my reason for breaking up with Peter

I knew that this was my only real choice. There was no way around it. I could have been selfish and stayed with Peter, lived in my fantasy life with him. A sweet family man, who wanted nothing more than to make me happy. Why couldn’t I have just been content in that? Why did I crave trouble? Why did I seek it out?

The answer I’d come up with was that trouble had been engrained in me, etched across my bones. At some point, chaos had been so seductive and appealing that I’d burned it into flesh. And it had never been eradicated. It had never gone away because Oli had not given me the closure I needed to dismiss my love of rule breaking.

After seven missed calls while I walked, I slipped up. I saw Tom’s name flash across my mobile and out of habit, I answered “Ello?” I knew immediately that I’d made a mistake.

“Where the hell are yeh?” Whether he was more angry or worried, I couldn’t tell.

“Oh, uh, I dunno?”

“Yeh don’t know? Anna, yeh’ve been gone for two hours! Yeh not answering when Gracie or I ring yeh. Oli’s bein’ a tosser, won’t say where’d yeh gone—We’ve been worried. Are yeh o’reight? ‘S everythin’ okay? What—“

“I’m fine… Drunk.”

“Right, yeh drunk, I know. We thought somethin’d happened to yeh. But yer fine?”

“Absolutely fine.”

“Where are yeh? I’m comin’ to find yeh.”

“No, yeh don’t needta—“

“I’m comin’ to find yeh,” he repeated with a commanding force I’d never heard from him before. “Now tell me what yeh see around yeh.”

So I told him. I plopped down onto the ground, properly mucking up my clothes and I waited for Tom to find me. He’d been very sharp with me on the phone and I hated it when he was even the slightest bit upset. I couldn’t even imagine what his frustration would be like when I told him about Oli and me. When I began to cry, I knew that I intended to tell him. I had to. The sooner, the better. I needed to hear his thoughts on the matter, needed his opinion or maybe his approval.

Many people stared at me as they walked past and I didn’t blame them. Drunk girl crying—interest peaked. I stared right back at them, tears hitting my cheeks and lips. For once, I didn’t so much mind being in a large crowd, even if I was drawing massive amounts of attention to myself. What did it matter?

I saw Gracie approaching before I saw Tom. She was wearing a Minor Threat t-shirt that had been hacked and tied back up, along with a pair of flashy purple pants. She was as confident and assured as always, but she rushed towards me with a worry that was new. “Annie!” She spotted me on the ground. Tom trailed behind her, with the same shades of concern as painted across his face. They hurried towards me and began scooping me up and off the grass. “What’re yeh crying about?” Gracie asked. “What’s happened?”

“Geoffmeh,” I mumbled.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” Tom said, taking a hold of my waist and putting one of my arms over his shoulders.

“Let go!” I yelled with my voice hoarse and my mouth dry.

Tom pulled me along, ignoring my protests. “Calm down, Anna.”

Gracie ran her hand over my forehead with a cool hand. “Babygirl, why’re yeh bloody cryin? Is it about Oli?”

Tom turned to Gracie in confusion. “What about Oli?”

I wailed even louder.

“Yeh mean ‘e don’t know?” She questioned me. “Oh, Anna…”

“I was gonna—“ I heaved the words as bricks made of good intentions. “But I…” I sniffed, crying less now that Tom was staring at me.

“Anna?” He didn’t have to say much else for me to know that he wouldn’t let it go. He knew that there was something major happening by the drunken hysterics and suspicious behavior.

I looked at my shoes, covered in grass and mud. “I can’t… I can’t say it.”

“Say what?” Tom said, eyes focused.

My own eyes flit to Gracie’s and I repeated “I can’t say it,” and she understood. We had stopped moving, tough they both had their hands on me still, holding my heavy limbs.

Gracie sighed, knowing what she had to do and ever-willing to share a piece of gossip. “Oli an’ Anna are sleepin’ together.”

“No, no, no…” I began, trying to make it sound a little better. “We slept together. Last week. Just once. An’ it were an accident. And it were a mistake and—“ and I was full on crying again.

His mouth dropped open and his startling eyes were the size of saucers. He dropped his arms from around me. Gracie picked up some of the slack and I managed to hold myself up as well. He just stood there, continuing to stare. It was like we’d been paused. Everything else moved and we were frozen.

A series of thoughts hit me. I become very concerned that we would have a repeat of four years previous. Tom would hate me. We would fight. We would stop speaking.

He turned around and began walking away, saying absolutely nothing. I was not quite surprised but I was bathed in horror. I knew what he was like. I had experienced this sort of anger before and if I didn’t make it right immediately, it might take months. I couldn’t survive months without Tom. I couldn’t survive minutes without him.

I followed him the best I could. Gracie hung behind; there was nothing she could do but watch. Tom’s pace was quick, far quicker than my wobbly legs could carry me. “Tom! Stop!” I tried to hurry after him but he was still several yards ahead of me. “Please,” I begged, just in time to trip and fall to my knees. I let out a pained yelp, very sure that I’d missed my chance and I buried my face in my lap. It was all over.

Within an instant, someone was helping me up. I assumed that it was Gracie but when I opened my eyes, I saw that it was Tom. I clung to him without hesitation. “Oh, Tommy, please don’t be angry with me. Please,” I cried.

He brushed me off a bit. “Yeh’ve got mud all over yeh.”

I continued sobbing and speaking in a most embarrassing manner. “Yeh can’t be angry. I need yeh right now. I need my best mate right now. So yeh can’t hate me—“

“I don’t hate yeh, yeh know I’d never hate yeh,” he spoke slowly, as if he were out of air. “An’ I’m not angry, I don’t think.”

“But yeh’ve… yeh ran away.”

“What were I supposed to do? ‘S a lot to consider, what yeh said…”

“Right.” Tears still slid across my face. I was sure that they were setting up permanent residence.

The back of his hand brushed over my skin, wiping them away. “Yer a proper mess, love.”

I was glad for the concern in his voice. It outweighed the frustration. “Yeah, I am…”

He frowned and his eyebrows met in the middle. “What happened, Annie? I thought yeh was happy with Peter.” He didn’t dare bring up Oli directly just yet. It would have been too much to start off with.

“I was. I jus’… I don’t know. I’ve fucked everything all up.” I covered my face with my hands and wondered what we looked like to the people that passed us. We looked like an arguing couple and for the second time that day, I wished that it was that simple. “Goddamnit, what’s happened to me? I used to be a level-headed, rational person, didn’t I?”

“Yeh’ve yer moments.”

“I’ve become someone I don’t even know—melodramatic and bitter. That’s not who I wanna be. That’s not who I am, Tom.”

He smoothed hair out of my face and said “I know that.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on. It’s like I can’t jus’ settle for what I ‘ave. Yeh know, be happy with it.”

“Ef yeh aren’t happy with it, then it isn’t right for yeh.” Despite his conflict of interest, he was treating the matter as my best friend, attempting objectivity. “Yeh should do what yeh feel is right.”

“What ef what I feel is wrong?”

“’Ow can it be wrong ef yeh feelin’ it?”

I looked at my hands, my chipped and torn fingernails and then my empty palms. “Because it were wrong the first time? Because it didn’t work and being crushed by ‘im once was bad enough?” Oli was an inevitability of the conversation.

He looked reluctant to dive into the discussion. I could tell it was very difficult for him to remain neutral. But he tried. For me, he tried. “Yeh both older now. Yeh different.”

“I know. It’s jus’… impossible to sort out in my mind. Because ‘e said that we’d never work or whatever and ‘e said that ‘e’d not think of me anymore and we’d be done. Like done for good. An’ it’s been four fuckin’ years, I’d thought it was done, a bad memory is all. But all this? Fuck. Clearly, Oli’s thought of me. An’ then ‘e goes on and on about ‘ow there’s a good reason for hurtin’ me. That ‘e ‘ad to do it. But ef ‘e don’t tell me the reason, then I gotta believe there’s no reason at all.”

Tom’s mouth twisted and he blinked a few too many times. His brain was working something out, was being strained. He opened his mouth and then quickly closed it several times. There was some sort of inner battle being waged. When one side of the war prevailed, he said “Oli did ‘ave a good reason for breakin’ it off with yeh.”

“What? ‘Ow d’yeh know?”

“Well, uh—“

“What’s the reason then?”

“Because I told ‘im to.” His voice was flat and even, resolved. And just then, I knew he had a secret beyond just this. There was more and I felt very betrayed. It was hypocritical to feel as such, I knew. But this was an old secret, one that he’d had many chances to tell and he hadn’t.

“What?” It sounded like a strange squeak as I said it. “Yeh told him to?”

“Well, not exactly. It weren’t a demand or anythin’. I told ‘im that I wouldn’t stop the two o’ yeh—but then…”

“But what?” I was not quite comfortable. Normally Tom’s presence alone brought with it a feeling of warm safety. The old blanket feeling. But just then, being near him felt wrong. Or at the very least not quite right.

“It’s quite complicated, I’d say.”

“Then tell me the whole thing.”

“Anna…”

“I want to know.” I held his gaze. It was hard because my eyes were blurring at the edges but I managed. It was sobering to stare at him in this way but the idea that he had a secret terrified me and my hands shook. There were some borders of trust that had been breached on both sides.

“O’reight, but yeh can’t take it the wrong way. ‘S a long time ago, Annie.”

“I know it was. But…”

“I know.” He resigned himself to tell me this supposed story and he guided us so that we could sit. He worked to make us comfortable; it was a futile effort and an attempt at delay. He couldn’t delay it forever, barely a minute. He took a breath and began.

“Well, it started with you, yeh know… It were a few days after the accident, when yeh looked so bad with all the stitches and the cast, when I came over to talk. I left yeh house and I felt fine, yeah? Because we’d got ourselves sorted and that was good. Really good. And since it went well with yeh, I thought I’d get things with Oliver straightened too. I mean, I ‘ad to live with ‘im an’ it were a real pain bein’ there when we was fightin’. I thought I’d offer the peace gesture, yeh know. Tell ‘im what I told yeh and we’d be o’reight after a bit. I went to Nicholls’ place. They were all pissin’ about—Matt an’ Gracie an’ probably Curtis, I can’t remember, didn’t ‘ave a good look. Thought they were goin’ to lose it when I showed up an’ asked to speak with Oli.

We went out o’ Matt’s house, out back in the garden. Oli started on about ‘ow I needed to apologize to yeh because I were a wanker. I said I o’ready ‘ad and ‘e shut up quick.” Tom laughed at the thought. “It was all pretty weird, I think. ‘E weren’t actin’ like himself. ‘E were clumsy, fuckin’ nervous. Not Oli-like at all. I thought ‘e were drunk or fucked up or somethin’. But ‘e said ‘e weren’t and I dunno… We talked about the two o’ yeh. ‘E apologized for getting’ us into the row and ‘e said that ‘e only wanted what was best for yeh… an’ that ‘e…” Tom paused and I realized that this was where his secret was hidden.

“Tom?”

“’E said ‘e loved yeh.” Tom let out a frustrated sigh and refused to look at me straight on though I tried to catch his eyes several times.

“What?”

“’S when I hit ‘im.” Tom admitted this with a sense of amused pride, like he still didn’t believe that it had happened at all.

“Yeh punched ‘im because ‘e said ‘e loved me?” I felt considerably less drunk after hearing all of this.

“I didn’t say it made sense. I jus’ got a bit angry at the idea o’ ‘im lovin’ yeh. I mean, who was ‘e to even look at yeh like that? Oli were grubby and greedy… Yeh were sweet and innocent.”

“Were bein’ the operative word.”

“Don’t say that. Not like that. That’s not what I meant… I jus’ meant that Oli reeled yeh in, knowing yeh’d fall hard, jus’ like the rest o’ them. ‘E knew what ‘e was doin’ from the start o’ all that. But then for ‘im to say e’d fallen in love with yeh… Seemed so fuckin’ crass.”

“Fallen in love?” No, no, no. It was all wrong. There was no love involved. There never had been. I didn’t want to hear about love. It wasn’t supposed to be love.

He looked at me with some mixture of pity and compassion. He knew that I had heard nothing of love from Oli. If I had, things would be very different. “I don’t know ef it were serious or… jus’ words. Oli’s a lot of words sometimes. ‘E’s good with them. Knows ‘ow to use them. But honestly, Anna, I didn’t know what else to do when ‘e said that. Because it hurt me. Fuck, I don’t know. We were still kids practically and yeh were mine. I know that’s not right to say, not fair to yeh to say it. But—“

“But I was yours a long time before I was his.” I didn’t so much mind being treated like property. There was something flattering about it. And the truth was that I did belong to Tom but not in the same way I belonged to anyone else. “I still don’t understand though… So yeh told ‘im that? Told ‘im that yeh didn’t want us together?” Even though we were never together, per say, I intended to say but decided not to.

“No, I told yeh, I said the same thing to ‘im as I did to yeh. I said I didn’t like it but I wouldn’t stop yeh…” He took another large breath. “But I said that ef ‘e really loved yeh, ‘e would do what was right for yeh.”

And surprisingly, I couldn’t cry anymore. Though at this point in the conversation, I felt like it was appropriate. Like this deserved my tears. But my eyes were as dry as my mouth and I said “Oh.”

--

2005

“Tom did what!?” I shouted into the receiver. Gracie had ringed the house for the second time that day to inform me that Tom had punched Oli half an hour before. The attack had taken place outside of Matt’s house and everyone was in a complete uproar about the matter. “’E were just ‘ere. ‘E were fine when ‘e left.”

“’E were over there? Wait, ‘e came to yer house? Seriously?” Gracie was thoroughly excited about the unfolding drama.

I was locked myself in my bedroom, not wanting any familial guests for my phonecall. “Aye, ‘e called me, asked ef ‘e could stop by and o’ course I said yes. What else could I say to ‘im?”

“Right. I understand that… But what’d yeh say to ‘im that ‘e’d want to go off an’ deck Oli?”

“Nothin’. We mostly talked about us, yeh know?”

“So yeh didn’t mention that yeh sleepin’ with Oli? I think that’d probably do it.”

“No, o’ course I didn’t mention that. I’d be mental to tell ‘im.”

“Then it must be somethin’ else. Jus’ angry about the whole thing?”

“I suppose. ‘S not like Tom to be so bloody reckless though. That’s Oli’s job. Tom’s a sweetheart. ‘E don’t go around punchin’ people.”

“Oli’s not people. Oli’s ‘is brother. The rules are different.”

“I guess so…” I wasn’t sure who to be more concerned about, Tom or Oli. Though I had just seen Tom and I had requested more time apart, I wanted to ask him why he hit his brother, who he used to idolize. But another part of me, shallower perhaps, worried about Oli.

“Looks like yeh’ve got yerself a mighty big problem there, love.”

“Really? I’d not noticed,” I snapped, regretting my venom right away.

“Cool it, Annie baby. Yeh’ve a pair o’ lads, brothers at that, fightin’ over yeh. That don’t sound so bad.”

“Don’t say it like that—like they’re fightin’ OVER me.”

“But they—“

“They’re fightin’ BECAUSE of me. ‘S different.”

“Oh, silly naïve Anna. Even ef Tom don’t like yeh like that, they’re still fightin’ over yeh. Boys don’t like to share anythin’, especially their lasses.”

“They’re gonna ‘aveta learn to share. Because I can’t not be friends with Tom. An’ Oli is… Well, yeh know, ‘e’s like my non-Tom best mate right now.”

On the other end of the phone, Gracie snorted a laugh. “Still jus’ mates? Right…”

I groaned. “Not now, Gracie. Definitely not the time to discuss what Oli and I are or aren’t.”

“What yeh are is fuckin’ an’ I’ve a feelin’ Tom’s gonna be even less happy when ‘e finds that out.”

I couldn’t even say that he wouldn’t find out because I knew he would. After our conversation, I vowed that whatever Tom asked, I would answer truthfully. I wanted there to be no secrets between us. I owed him that. “Fuck,” I swore. “Ow’d things get so complicated so quick?”

“Yeh sixteen, Anna, everythin’s complicated when yeh sixteen.” It could have been condescending but I knew she only meant it fondly.

Before I could respond to Gracie’s pearl of wisdom, there was a loud knock at my locked door. “Anna?” My father called and the door’s handle was jiggled. “Why’s this door locked?”

“Hold on,” I told Gracie and then back to my father, I said “Because I locked it.”

“’S no need to lock yeh door,” he said and I didn’t comment. He continued. “Yeh Mum says yer not supposed to be on the phone.”

“What?” I sat up straighter. Arching my back as such made my bruised ribs sore. “That’s bloody stupid. I’m o’ready confined to this prison! An’ then yeh take away the phone?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” my innocuous father said and I felt the need to oblige him. “Off the phone, please, Anna.”

“Fine.” I gave in. “Sorry, Gracie, I’ve to go.”

“Okay. Call me when the Nazis are away, Anne Frank.”

This is when I considered climbing out my window. I’d been doing it for much of the summer for practically no reason. I had a real reason then. It seemed that I had missed something rather major in the Sykes world and felt the need to be in the middle of it. Tom punching Oli was not only a big deal, it was my fault. If I went to see one of them, I could find out the exact details of the case. But which brother would I go to? I couldn’t choose. So I took another one of the small white pain pills at my bedside and pulled my sketchpad out. I’d barely touched my pencil down before sleep tugged my eyes shut.

When my eyes snapped open, the green digital clock numbers read 1:13AM and the lights in my room were still on. I realized that a tapping at my window had brought me from sleep. Confused and groggy, I sat up. The tapping seemed louder as I greeted consciousness and I scrambled to get up, keeping my left arm cradled against my chest. There was only one person who ever came through the window and my sleep brain knew it. I hurried to the window but struggled to open it with only one hand. When I had opened it only a crack, Oli helped, sliding it up from the outside and making to climb in. He was practiced in this art; he’d done it many times through the course of the summer. He looked like an expert.

When he was in, I spoke in a hushed voice. “Sorry, couldn’t get the window open with—“

He took a hold of my face, palms pressed to my cheeks, and went directly for my lips. He crashed down on me, sucking my bottom lips into his mouth, earning a startled gasp from me. He backed me towards the bed I’d just been sleeping in. His mouth shifted and bent against mine with a vast urgency and I swore I was dreaming. He guided us down against my sheets and blankets and my sore limbs grasped for him. My breath caught in my throat and he kissed the corners of my mouth before heading for my jawline.

I was struck with a profound gladness to be kissing Oliver. It had been in the hospital that we’d last kissed, though it had been brief and panicked. I had been worried that when I saw him next, things would not be the same, that the accident would change how we treated one another. It was good to see that it had not.

It wasn’t until he pressed a hand to my bruised ribs that I realized he was hurting me. I groaned in pain and gasping said “Oli… yeh… gotta be careful with me. ‘M not in the best shape right now.”

For the first time since he arrived, he spoke. “Fuck, sorry Sav, I… I weren’t thinkin’. I jus’ wanted to…” He rolled off of me so that he was at my side. He put his hands over his face and sighed.

“I didn’t say yeh ‘ad to stop kissin’ me.” I reached for his hands. “Just that yeh ‘ad to go easy.” I pulled one of his hands from his face, revealing a split lip that I knew wasn’t from the accident. “Oh my god, did Tom do that?”

He looked as if I’d discovered a dirty secret. “Yeh heard about that, eh?”

“Gracie couldn’t contain ‘er excitement,” I said with a flat, dry voice. “Did yeh think it’d be a secret? Nothin’ stays secret.”

He didn’t say anything and I brought my fingers up to touch his busted lip. While my fingers lingered there, he kissed the tips and I sat up so that I could look at him directly.

“What happened?” I inquired. “Why would ‘e hit yeh?”

He looked at the ceiling while I stared at him. “I said the wrong thing to ‘im.”

My teeth clamped down and my eyes widened. “Did yeh, er… Does ‘e know about, uh, I mean, did ‘e find out about, yeh know, us?” I clearly referred to the fact that Oli saw me naked on a regular basis.

Oli shook his head. “I didn’t tell ‘im anythin’ like that. But ‘e ain’t stupid.”

A little irritated by his derisive tone, I pushed myself away. “I know that.” I crossed my legs underneath me and asked “Well what’d yeh say to ‘im then?”

“Nothin’… ‘S nothin’.”

Raising my voice I said “Well, obviously, it were somethin’, ef ‘e hauled off and decked yeh.”

He sat up and pressed his hand to my mouth. “Shh. Are yeh tryin’ to wake yeh parents?”

“Fuck them,” I said against his palm, feeling a coldness setting against my normally scalding chest.

He looked at me, head tilted to the side a little and he slid his hand away from my mouth and down to rest at my neck. “I don’t like it when yer angry.” He leaned forward and popped a simple kiss onto my lips. “I’m sorry ef I were rough with yeh jus’ now. I’m jus’ glad to see yeh. Really fuckin’ glad.” He kissed me again, in a desperate sort of way, rushed and sloppy.

“Thanks?”

“I mean it.” His fingers crept back up my cheek to dance across the cuts on my face. I didn’t flinch, just let him inspect my face. “’Ow’s the arm?” He hadn’t stopped looking at my stitched up cheek.

“Metal plated.”

“An’ the rest o’ yeh?”

“Black an’ blue.” I reached for the hem of my t-shirt and dragged it up to show him my bruises. I expected him to say something, to be awed or apologetic. Instead, he nudged me back against the pillows, pushing my shirt further up my torso. I was filled with nervous energy as he bent down to kiss the border of one bruise. He proceeded to trace small flickering kisses down the length of my ribcage, a kiss for every inch of bruising. I felt ready to light up with affectionate happiness when he moved to kiss the marks on my cheek.

When he pulled back I was on the verge of smiling and yet, he was frowning. “God, ‘e was right. Look what I’ve done to yeh.”

“Who was right? Tom?” I wanted to know the details of their argument, the exact perimeters of the conflict. But not as much as I wanted to reassure Oli. “And what’d yeh mean ‘what I’ve done’, don’t yeh mean what an old bat with poor eyesight’s done?”

“No, I mean what I’ve done.” He shook his head and dipped down to catch my lips. I realized that he was distracting me, an evasive maneuver. It worked. I would never say no to him for as long as he kept pushing. When he’d kissed me to the point of madness, he asked “Can I sleep ‘ere tonight?” His voice was low and broad.

I nodded. “I suppose, yeah. Guess it doesn’t matter, yeh o’ready ‘ere…” I felt concerned. He looked unusually tense, not like himself. There was no self assured bravado, no large floating ego. “Is everythin’ okay? Yeh okay?”

“I’m fine.” He asserted, kissing my forehead. “It’ll be a bit rough at my house ef I go back tonight… Besides, I’ve never woken up next to yeh,” he said, running fingers through my hair. “An’ I think I’d like that.”

A blush ran over me. “I’d like that too.”

“Good.” He pulled off his zip up hoodie and tossed it to my floor while I reached to turn my lights off. He wrapped his arms around me, burying me against his chest. His shirt smelled like stale cigarette smoke and I realized that this smell no longer repulsed me, quite possibly because I associated this scent with him. The smell had an almost calming effect and I felt sleepy again. With Oli’s tobacco and tar smell, I felt warmth against my chest again. Not quite the burning that he sometimes evoked. It didn’t hurt. For once, it was only good. And I wanted to tell him this. He needed assurance.

My mouth near his ear, I said “We’re good together sometimes.”

At first, he said nothing, just held me tighter yet, so tight in fact that I could feel his muscles twitching from the strain. When I was convinced that we would melt together at any moment, he whispered “I think so too. This is—This is good right now.”

I just nodded my head and bit my lip. I didn’t know why but I felt like crying, like sobbing into his shoulder, like releasing all the tension from my body. And one thought repeated over and over in my head: It shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t feel like this.

Holding someone that was not and never would be your boyfriend shouldn’t have been that intense. It shouldn’t have felt like the world would end if you let go of them. It shouldn’t have felt like the safest place you’d ever been. It shouldn’t have felt like love.

Into my hair, he murmured “Fuckin hell, Sav… This is hard.”

It shouldn’t have been hard. Our arrangement couldn’t be complicated. I tried to remember that he was Oli and didn’t do real relationships, who wrote songs about cheating and murder and parties, who I always knew would hurt me. Because that’s who he was. Allegedly. I tried to engrain this in myself. Make myself believe that he was what everyone thought. That every moment of time we spent together was fake.

“I wish,” he mused. “I wish I could…” He didn’t finish his sentence though I got the impression that he knew exactly what words were meant to follow the first. He changed his thought and said “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Everything?”

“Everything is an awful lot to be sorry for.”

“Well, I’m sorry for it all.”

“All o’ it?”

“No, not all o’ it, jus’ the bad stuff.”

“Right, well don’t be, okay? It doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t help it. I mean, all I’ve done all summer is get yeh in trouble. Yeh’ve been grounded several times, put in a police car, been in hospital… And after all that, yeh still let me crawl through yeh window.”

“I like it when yeh come to my window.”

“Yeh probably shouldn’t.”

I didn’t like where we seemed to be headed in conversation. “I don’t want to talk about this.” If we didn’t shut up, we’d talk ourselves to death. “Can we jus’ stay quiet?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He got it. He understood and he nuzzled into the crook of my neck. He would melt me with this behavior. Like I’d been for some time, I was a sucker for him.

I leaned back against the pillows, making myself more comfortable. However, the air around me felt heavy. It pressed against me until I could barely breathe. It shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t feel like this.

But it did feel like that.

It felt so absolutely real. It felt like he really needed me. And I wanted him to need me, wanted to be the air he breathed. He had already eclipsed everything else in my life, taking precedence over my efforts to reunite with Tom and over my relationship with my family. I wanted to be that eclipse for him as well, wanted to be everything to him.

And I decided then that for just this night, I could pretend that it was as real as it felt. I could ignore the facts and just be happy to have him beside me. When I decided this, the room was startlingly less heavy. Ignorance and bliss, what a remarkable concept.

I swept my hand through his thin dark hair and tied my fingers with his. “I’m glad yeh came over,” I said.

“Me too,” he said and it sounded like a sigh. It was a tired sound and sleepiness continued to bite at me. So I closed my eyes.

It was so easy to just give in and let go. It had been the case from the beginning of this ordeal. Being with Oli was easy. Too easy. Too good. It worked in a way that didn’t make sense. But there was a danger in it, in us. Recklessness. Carelessness. Something. However, I couldn’t work it out just then; I was too near to unconsciousness.

In my half awareness, I heard him speaking to me. I could only assume that he was speaking to me as though I were already sleeping because his voice shook. “Savanna, yeh brilliant, yeh know. Yeh o’ways think that yeh nothin’ and I wish yeh wouldn’t because yeh… yeh better than I deserve.” I felt him press a kiss onto my temple and then for quite some time he was quiet again. I thought that he too was on the edge of sleep and while we were both in the place between awake and asleep, I heard him say one last thing before drifting off. “I wish this could last.”