I Wrote the Sky

‘If you could choose,’ April yawned, shaking herself out of sleep. ‘How would you go?’

‘Go where?’ I rolled over to face her. She was sat up next to me, her duvet cover draped over her knees.

‘What, no,’ She stretched up and reached over my body to the window. ‘Like, how would you die, I guess.’ She tugged at her pale blue curtains, letting the morning sun in. I groaned and pulled the duvet over my head. It smelt like her.

‘Oh,’ I breathed out against the cover. The air was heavy, filled with April’s presence. ‘I don’t know.’ I shifted under the blanket, but it was getting too hot. All the words she wasn’t saying were piling up next to me, wriggling closer and tickling me with their noses.

‘I was thinking maybe pills would be good.’ She pulled the cover off me, smiling. A complete juxtaposition to her words. I sat up, and felt my eyes scar with the image. April bent over herself, vomit trickling out of her mouth. A cigarette burnt down to the end in one hand. Completely blank eyes. I shuddered at the thought.

‘You’d be like the Lisbon sister that didn’t make it to the final cut of the film,’ I laughed slightly, pushing my hair out of my eyes.

We sat in her bed chattering for a while. Wrapped in duvets, everything seemed so far away. Like we were on holiday from the real world. Eventually though, we got up. By that point there were two weeks left until we both started college, and time waits for no one. No matter how much you beg.

The last time she’d even brought death up in a conversation had been weeks ago at that party. In the time leading up to that morning, I hadn’t exactly been waiting for it, but I knew it was coming. I always just got this feeling when April wasn’t talking about something.

She was usually this sketchbook, covered in paint and completely open for everyone to see. All of her colours were always on display, however ugly, or mismatching they were. Every part of her personality was always just there, take it or leave it. So when she was holding something back, it was blindingly obvious to everyone around her.

It didn’t seem to be something that was always occupying her thoughts, though. From where I was sat, on the field, in that bathtub, on her bed, it seemed to be something that jumped into her brain at random moments and demanded to be spoken. A thought that needed to be heard. If it wasn’t, it would crawl back within her and wait. Nothing stayed secret with April for very long.

‘Where are we even going today?’ I pulled at the laces of my trainers and knotted them. April grabbed her handbag from the bottom step of the stairs and smoothed down her skirt.

‘Uh,’ she paused. Her hallway was bare. A few photos hung across the white-washed walls, but most of them were of April’s older sister Kate. I always got the impression that April’s parents cared more about Kate than her. Not that they loved her more than April or anything, but Kate wasn’t difficult. April had a habit of lying, and pinching her mum’s tobacco when she ran out.

‘I’ve got a date,’ April said. My head snapped up and my fingers lost the bow I was tying. She was dabbing pink gloss across her bottom lip, using the cracked screen of her phone as a mirror.

‘April that’s sweet, but you’re really not my type.’

‘Don’t be dense,’ April put her phone back in her bag, snatched up her house keys, and opened her front door. ‘James? Remember?’ I shook my head. She’d probably mentioned him but I had a hard time remembering names. ‘Well it’s okay,’ she reached forward and pulled me up by my wrist, ‘because I’ve got you a date too!’

My lace still wasn’t done up, but April ushered me out of the house before I had chance to say anything. I was hardly dressed for a date, even a casual one. The wind blew my hair into my face, and it was the only thing I could hear. Outside of that I was aware of April telling me about this guy, James’ friend, but I wasn’t listening. All I could make sense of was the wind tunnelling into my ears.

‘Jan?’ April tapped me on the arm, and my focus cracked back. ‘I said James just text me! They’re at One Cup already so we’re going to have to speed walk.’

When April and I were thirteen, we spent the majority of our time (and our money) at this little café. An ‘’independent’’ type. Bare walls, furniture that didn’t match, and black and white photos scattered around. I’d been to a lot of cafés, but that one was the only one I’d ever seen with that much character.

At times it was awful. If I just needed a large mug of something hot and some space to clear my brain, it was like torture. All those loud noises. Glasses and cups clinking together, people laughing, talking. I loved company of all types. I’d even talk to strangers, but when my head was clouded I just needed silence.

We arrived fifteen minutes late. April pushed me into a chair opposite a boy I’d never seen before, and he held his hand out, introducing himself as Andy. I shook it, then turned back in my heavy chair, but April was all the way over on the other side of the room, sliding into a chair of her own. James smiled and waved at me and I think I did the same to him, but by the time my eyes focused, he and April were deep in a conversation of their own.

‘I like your shirt,’ Andy said shyly, smiling a little. I looked down, and my dad’s white dress shirt looked back up at me. I liked it because it was comfortable, but it definitely wasn’t much to look at.

‘Thanks,’ I replied, but I couldn’t help it sounding more like a question.

‘Your name’s Jan right?’ He fidgeted in his seat, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. ‘Sorry, I’ve been a little stitched up here, I didn’t even know who you were thirty minutes ago.’

‘Don’t worry about it, I didn’t either, we’ve both been set up,’ I didn’t really mind that April and James seemed to have ditched us, he was nice company, ‘and yeah, it’s Jan.’

‘Just Jan?’ He picked up the folded drinks menu and scanned through it, trailing every word with his finger.

‘Janet, but I haven’t been called that since I was really little.’ I watched his finger slow down and stop. It paused over the ‘Cookies and Cream Mocha Ice’. ‘That’s really good,’ I nodded towards the menu, ‘they give you little biscuits with it.’

‘Well dammit, Janet, I’ll have to get one then. If it comes with biscuits,’ he laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh too. He stood up and tugged his wallet out of his jeans pocket. ‘I promise to only call you Jan, unless I’m making a hilarious pop-culture reference, of course.’

‘Of course,’ I repeated.

‘Would you, uh, like to share one of these mocha things?’ His words hurried out nervously, and he pulled at the sleeves of his jumper as he waited for my response.

What’s the worst that could happen? I remember asking myself at the time. He seemed nice, and he definitely was in this as blindly as I was. Surely it couldn’t hurt to just share a drink with him.

‘Yeah, sure.’

He walked to the counter and I smiled to myself because I was right. I didn’t know that at the time, obviously, but you can tell who’s good company and who isn’t. He came back with a bowl of iced chocolaty coffee and two straws, and we laughed our way through the next hour.

April seemed to be having a good time too. I peeked back at their table a few times and they were squished into the corner next to each other, apparently doing most of the talking with their eyes.

‘I can’t believe they dragged us out here,’ Andy said as I turned back to our table.

‘Well, it’s not all bad. You could’ve been some crazy serial killer,’ I paused, ‘or incredibly boring.’

‘Oh, you just don’t know me well enough, I’m extremely boring in my spare time. It’s a hobby.’

‘I think it’s more of a craft than a hobby. Being boring is a skill. A fine art,’ I chuckled.

Andy was lovely, and I was glad that April sprang the day on me, because I would get to know Andy better as we all grew up. We never dated, not then anyway, but he was always there to cheer me up when I needed him. He may not have understood everything that ran through my head, every image I saw as clear as a picture, but he didn’t need to. He was always as sweet as he was on that first day.

I was just putting Andy’s number into my phone when April walked over, and I could feel her mentally pulling me out of my chair and out the door. She was kicking the ground lightly, over and over again, and I’d barely entered the last digit of his number when she announced that we were leaving.

‘Already?’ I asked, looking up at her from where I was sat.

‘Yeah.’ She didn’t say anything else, just tapped her fingers on the back of my chair. Obviously, just she and I were leaving. I shot Andy an apologetic smile, but he just shrugged and laughed a little. He had warmth in his eyes.

‘Well it was nice to meet you Andy.’ I slung my bag over my shoulder and took one last sip of our shared mocha. It was thick and syrupy, and the biscuit part stuck to the roof of my mouth. The texture made me cringe, but it was still delicious.

‘You too. See you around,’ he replied. His eyes scanned me and I wondered what he saw. I looked at him, and his smooth dark skin was the first thing my eyes noticed, then the sharp slope of his nose. After that everything formed up around what my eyes had initially caught. I wondered how he saw me, and realized it was probably completely different to how I saw myself.

Not in a whiny, self-deprecating manner. I didn’t hate myself. I didn’t think that I was disgustingly ugly, or morbidly obese. I wasn’t interested in knowing if he thought I was beautiful, I didn’t care about that. I pondered how he saw me. What features of mine stole his attention first. My eyes? That’s what most people say, but I think they’re lying to sound romantic. At the time I told myself I’d ask him one day, and I did, eventually.

April paced out of One Cup and I didn’t look back. I hurried after her, because that’s what we did. We rushed after each other.

By the time I’d caught up with her we were coming up to the old pier. Seagulls squawked about, and April shooed one off a rusty bench before sitting down. I did the same and pulled my tobacco out my tiny bag. The beach spread itself out in front of us, but in true English fashion it was dark and cloudy overhead, even though it was only mid-afternoon.

The bench had a little plaque, ‘In loving memory of Alfred’, and I noticed its worn edges as I passed April a cigarette. She stared out straight ahead, watching the waves break. There weren’t many people out, we didn’t live in a tourist trap. We got a few stragglers , but it was never really busy. I lit the cigarette as it hung from her mouth, and that’s when she turned to me.

‘I really like him,’ she said.

‘I know.’ I lit my own cigarette and took a long drag.

No, it didn’t make any sense, but I understood why April left so quickly. Because I knew her. I understood her. She didn’t want to find too much out about him right away. More than anything else, she wanted desperately to like him. She didn’t want to find out any hideous secrets now, she wanted to keep her rosy glasses on and I didn’t blame her.

I looked down at the concrete beneath us. The ground was so hard. Man-made and durable. That was when I saw it. My shoelace had been undone all day. For the first time in months I’d let myself forget about something, even if it was only for a few hours.