Blue Moon (Book One in The Blue Crystal Trilogy) (6 page)

We had to write a thousand word
essay on ‘Love Poetry’ by the poet or poets of our choice.

“The love poems of John Donne,”
I said. “You know, the Metaphysical Poet? What are you doing?”

“Shakespeare’s Love Sonnets,”
she answered, adding in a dramatic voice, “Shall I compare thee to
a summer’s day, Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough
winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all
too short a date…”

“What’s this? Reciting love
poetry to each other?” said Seth, sliding into an empty space
beside us. “I am seriously worried about you two.”

“Get lost, Seth.” Tash threw
her screwed up paper napkin at him, and thankfully, amidst all the
laughter, I realised she’d forgotten about Violet.

At home that night, I could
barely conceal my disappointment, and found myself getting short
tempered with my mother and granddad.

“Sorry, Gramps,” I said,
sitting next to him on the old blue sofa in the lounge. I’d snapped
at him unnecessarily over dinner, just because he’d asked me twice
if I wanted more vegetables. “It’s not you. It’s me. You were right
this morning. It is about a boy.”

“I thought so,” he said,
putting down his book and sitting back thoughtfully. “Name?”

“Theo,” I said. “He’s just
started college.”

“And what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t show
today.”

“Have you fallen out?”

‘No, not really. I don’t know.”
I could hardly tell him we didn’t know each other well enough to
fall out.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be in
tomorrow. And I’m sure everything will be fine.” He gave me a
smile, put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.

I smiled back, but somehow
couldn’t share his optimism, and went to bed feeling very unsure
about everything.

The next day, Granddad proved
to be right. Well, in part. Violet and Theo did show. But
everything was very decidedly not fine.

It started in the first lesson.
Although there was an empty desk next to mine, Violet chose to sit
next to another girl and I could barely contain my jealousy. Then
at break time, before I could get to her, she’d disappeared. I
didn’t see her again until lunchtime, as we had different
timetables, and then I saw her sitting with Theo in the canteen
with a crowd from the Upper Sixth. I hovered in the canteen
doorway, not knowing what to do. Should I go over and speak to
them? Would they be glad to see me? If Theo had been alone, I
wouldn’t have hesitated, but in front of all the others I simply
didn’t know if I had the courage. In the end, I collected my lunch
from the serving hatch and sat at an adjoining table, close enough
for them to see me and come over if they wished. They obviously
didn’t. I heard them laughing and joking, and every time I heard
Theo’s voice it was like a knife going through my heart. At one
point, I turned sideways to look at the group at the next table and
for a brief moment, caught Theo’s eye. No sooner did he see me
looking at him, than he looked away immediately and began openly
flirting with Georgia Thomson, an attractive brunette with very
obvious attractions. Leaning over, he brushed away a strand of hair
from her face in a gesture of intimacy that made me feel sick.

They all started laughing and I
felt my throat constrict. Pushing aside my tray, I ran out of the
canteen, desperate to get away. I hurried to the nearest washroom,
feeling as if my heart would break. Tears ran down my face and I
felt hot and faint. What had I been thinking of? Why on earth would
a boy like that be interested in me? He’d never go out with a girl
like me. He must have thought me very gauche and unsophisticated,
especially given his background, and there were so many gorgeous
girls in the year above. He was obviously interested in Georgia
Thomson. I’d made a complete fool of myself. And I’d lost Violet’s
friendship into the bargain.

Never had I felt quite so
wretched, and willed the end of the day to come, which it
inevitably did, but all too slow for my liking. If I thought things
were bad, however, they were soon to take a turn for the worse, as
I found out the next day.

It happened late morning, just
after netball practice. For three quarters of an hour, I played for
all I was worth, assuming my usual position of Goal Attack and
managing to put all thoughts of Theo completely out of my head.
Welcoming the physical exertion as a means of banishing my mental
torment, I was on top form. The sun shone down on the netball court
and as its warming rays touched my body, I felt energised and
invigorated. I leapt, I ran, I had total control of the ball,
weaving my way in and out of my opponents and time after time
reaching the goal circle with ease. When it came to taking aim and
getting my ball into the net, I was unstoppable, achieving no less
than an embarrassing twenty goals for my team. I’d always been a
passable netball player, although never quite good enough to make
the college team, but today I was in a different league and
afterwards the girls crowded round me full of praise for my
performance.

“Play like that every time,
Morgan, and you’re in the team,” called Amanda Weston, the netball
team captain. “Very impressive.”

“Whatever you’re on, I’d like
some,” said Tash. “You played like someone possessed.”

I smiled, enjoying all the
praise and wondering where my newfound energy had come from. And
then I saw him. Theo was standing in the shadows at the corner of
the sports block, by the entrance to the changing rooms, and he was
watching me. I felt the blood drain from my face, as the demons of
the last couple of days came rushing back. As soon as he realised
I’d seen him, he dropped further back into the shadows, but it was
too late. Fuelled by my success on the netball court, I was
determined to confront him and marched over to where he stood.

“Hi Theo.”

“Hi Emily. You played
well.”

“Thank you.”

My resolve began to waiver as I
looked into his blue eyes. He had the beginnings of very tiny smile
lines at the corner of his eyes, I noticed, giving him a maturity I
hadn’t seen in other boys. Shards of sunlight crept through the
shadows and shone on his face, giving his perfect ivory skin a
translucence I hadn’t noticed before. He seemed to shimmer.

“Have you been watching long?”
I asked him.

“Long enough.”

He stared at me with such a
look of tenderness and longing, it took my breath away and I
truthfully didn’t know what to do. This was not what I’d expected.
I wanted to throw my arms around him, to be as close to him as I
possibly could, and it really felt as if some invisible force was
pulling us closer together. I struggled to find the right words,
but none came, and feeling foolish and inadequate, I settled for
the trivial.

“You’ve got a money spider
crawling up your jacket,” I spoke nervously, my voice higher than
normal, and went to brush away the small spider that was climbing
up the lapel of his jacket.

Then it all seemed to happen in
slow motion. He jumped back, recoiling from my touch, his eyes
flashing and his face set.

“Don’t touch me,” he commanded.
“Stay away from me. For your own sake, stay away. This can never
work.”

“What d’you mean?” I faltered,
staring at him in disbelief.

He gave me one last look, and
his eyes were filled with such utter desolation that I simply stood
and watched as he backed further into the shadows. Then giving a
sigh that seemed to rend him in two, he turned and ran as fast as
he could around the corner of the building.

I stared at the empty space
where he’d stood, not comprehending what had just happened. How
could someone look at you with such longing, but not want you near
them? Why did he say not to touch him? And what did he mean ‘for
your own sake stay away’? It just didn’t make sense. Yet again,
something had happened between us and he’d run away. I looked
around, aware the world had suddenly gone dark, and realised that
the bright sunshine had been replaced by black, threatening clouds.
Already, I could feel spots of heavy rain on my skin.

“Come on girls, every one in,”
shouted the Games Teacher, Mrs Wilde. “Looks like there’s a storm
coming. Quick as you can now.”

Suddenly, the energy I’d
experienced on the netball court was gone and I felt drained. I
changed into my sweatshirt and jeans as quickly as possible, amazed
that no one had seemed to notice my encounter with Theo.
Thankfully, that meant no awkward questions and I hurried to my Art
lesson without speaking to anyone. Outside, a storm raged, the rain
falling fast and furious, flashes of lightning illuminating the
inky black sky and loud cracks of thunder crashing right above us,
causing some girls to cry out in terror. I barely noticed.
Throughout the afternoon, my energy levels dipped lower and lower,
to the point where I could barely concentrate.

“Are you okay?” asked Tash, as
we walked out of the Art class at the end of the afternoon.

“Not really,” I answered. “I
think I must be going down with something. I feel so tired.”

“It’s all that running around
on the netball court,” she grinned. “I always said sport was no
good for you. You’ve worn yourself out. You need to go home and
have a good sleep.”

“That’s about all I feel like
doing,” I admitted. “I feel terrible.”

I was barely able to drag
myself onto the school bus, and I don’t know how I managed to walk
down the hill and get home. My limbs felt like lead and every step
took a huge amount of effort. The air hung oppressively and even
breathing seemed difficult. At last I reached home and, feeling
totally washed out, informed Granddad that I was going to bed.

“I think I’m going down with
flu,” I told him. “My body aches and I just want to sleep.”

“I’ll bring you up a Lemsip,”
he said, taking control. “We’re having chicken broth for tea,
that’ll sort you out. You’ll soon feel good as new.”

When my mother came home from
work, she felt my forehead.

“You don’t have a temperature,”
she said, “but you are very pale. It’s probably better if you don’t
go into college tomorrow.”

I willingly acquiesced with
that. College was the last place I wanted to be. I didn’t care if I
never went back. I just wanted to be as far away as possible from
Theo. How could someone I’d met only twice have such a devastating
effect on me? Was my mysterious illness somehow a manifestation of
my inner turmoil? Was it psychosomatic? Perhaps psychologically I
was protecting myself from further hurt by finding the perfect
excuse not to go into college.

That night, I had muddled
dreams, all featuring Theo, of course. I found myself standing on
the bank of a huge, swollen river with a fast moving current that
pulled the frothing waters, spewing and angry, down towards a
waterfall. On the opposite bank, which was green and lush and
bathed in sunlight, stood Theo. My side of the river, in contrast,
was dark and cold and in shadow. However loudly I called his name,
he didn’t seem to hear me. The sound of my voice was drowned out by
the fast moving water. In vain I called, but my words were carried
away downstream. I realised the only way I could reach him was to
brave the strong current and swim across the river. Fully clothed,
I flung myself in and tried to battle the angry water, but my limbs
were heavy and slow and refused to work properly, and I realised I
was never going to make it to the opposite bank. With horror, I
realised I was being dragged downstream by the strong current,
towards the impending waterfall, and I screamed Theo’s name even
louder. Again he didn’t hear, and I saw him slowly walking away
into the sunshine. Closer and closer loomed the waterfall. I could
hardly breathe and the water was filling up my lungs. Then suddenly
my body reached the lip of rock and I was falling, falling…

I woke up to find my mother
leaning over me, stroking my face.

“Emily, Emily, wake up. You’re
having a nightmare.”

I stared up at her face and
burst into tears. She held me in her arms, cradling me and rocking
me, as if I were a small child. “It’s alright, you’re safe,” she
crooned, “It was just a bad dream.”

A cup of warm milk and two
paracetamol tablets later and I slipped easily back into sleep,
this time a black, dreamless sleep that covered me like a warm,
dark blanket. I woke in the morning feeling better but still tired,
and at my mother’s insistence, spent the day at home, watching TV,
reading books and listening to music. All in all, not a bad day and
I felt very relieved to be away from Hartsdown College, or more
accurately, away from Theo and Violet. Tash came round after
college and for a while, it was like old times, laughing and joking
together, playing our favourite Coldplay album, and generally just
hanging out.

My newly found equilibrium
couldn’t last, of course, and as the Easter holidays progressed, I
found myself slipping into a depression. One day merged into the
next and I still felt tired and drawn. With a heavy heart I
attempted to write my English Literature assignment, not relishing
the thought of reading John Donne’s love poetry. I started to read
‘The Good Morrow’ and his words leapt out from the page at me, each
phrase poignant and sad in view of recent events:

‘
If ever any
beauty I did see,

Which I desir’d and got, t’was
but a dreame of thee.’

I put down the book and stared
mournfully out of my bedroom window at the fields beyond and
sighed. Oh Theo! What had happened between us? Would the world ever
be the same again? How I wished he and Violet had never come to
Hartswell-on-the-Hill and I had never met him. I felt as if my
peace of mind had gone forever. So, this is what love was all
about. Pain, loneliness and longing. He’d made it plain that
nothing would ever happen between us, for reasons of his own, but
in so doing he’d destroyed my cosy little world. I read on, and the
more I read, the sadder I became, especially when I stumbled upon
the words of ‘The Broken Heart’: