In Memory (46 page)

I followed his story as he read it aloud, tracing the darkened lines with my fingers.

This was from a knife,

This was from a fist,

You can see my life,

Scars upon my list.

Now you see why I haven’t pursued poetry.

“He struck me with a metal pan, which caused this.” He moved his hair away from his sharp
jawline
, revealing a dent, where a large chunk of skin was obviously
chiselled
out.

I felt it against my fingertips, leaning forward and kissing it gently. At that moment, I could feel his heartbeat beneath my lips, and kissed his throat in rhythm with it.

The reactions that bloomed underneath my touch were amazing. At that exact moment, he was happy, blissful… excited.

Noah moved closer, his bony torso right next to mine. As he fidgeted slightly under my touch, the more jagged scars tickled my bare skin.

“Aerie…” he ran his long fingers through my hair, making my breath hitch. (It seriously felt awesome.) He removed my glasses, placing them on the nightstand with care. “My Aerie…” He placed his hands on either side of my face, looking deep into my eyes. I swear I could see the turquoise
colour
reflected in his irises.

Then, his lips touched mine again, and everything began.

I want to describe this delicately as well as truthfully.

The whole thing, in a brief summary, was clumsy, passionate, and amazing. Concurrently.

It didn’t take long for us to be completely revealed to each other, both of us finding wonder and interest in the other’s body.

I
revelled
in the detail of his stories, and he
revelled
in the utter blankness of mine. It was like I was eager to transcribe those stories, so we both had proper accounts of our story.

It wasn’t my story and his story now. It was ours.

Once we became one, the lines blurred and merged, scattering words and letters and scars between us.
They crashed and shattered, bleeding and singing our songs and stories aloud.
Pages were torn, and placed between others, and our fingers entwined around the pen.

Ink ran between us, filling every line that had yet to be written. It dripped from our tongues, translating the language between our bodies.

By the end, there was space for both of us to write.

The perfect words.

Our story.

12 Days, 15 February, Sunday

Another lazy Sunday.
This will be my penultimate Sunday. It’s kind of weird to think of it like that, but there you are.

Around ten, Noah dragged himself out of
bed;
I could hear him moving around and making to sneak out of my room. I rolled over and looked at him as he opened the door. From what I could tell, he was wearing my
night
shirt, and that was it. (I didn’t have my glasses on.)

“Where you
goin
?” I mumbled, sitting up slowly.

“Just a quick shower, go back to sleep.”

I complied, and rolled back over, and lay there in a half-sleep for quite a while. If this was his definition of a quick shower…

He really was taking too long. I heaved myself out of bed and pulled on some shorts, expecting to hear the sound of water from my bathroom, but didn't. This led me to two options.

Either he is finished his shower and didn’t come back to me, or he’s downstairs.

As I made my way downstairs I detected the sound of water from his bathroom. Go figure. Noah does seem the type to be really particular about his hygiene space. I knocked on the door and waited for a response, but received none.

This reminded me of the first time he was here. Huh.

Slowly, I turned the knob and opened the door, very aware of the increased volume of the water.

“Hey, Noah… you alright in here?”

Again, no response.

I looked to the shower with decidedly less apprehension than previous scenarios, and there he was.

Noah was sleeping in the shower.

Just lying there, in the bottom of the tub, completely relaxed and peaceful. Water fell on him like rain, bouncing off his lips and chin, across his torso, and all the way down to his legs. The little beads of water reflected a brilliant shine of light from the window at the top of the shower, where warm sunlight shone through.

I pulled the curtain aside, and touched his shoulder, making him mumble and open his eyes.

“Hey, beautiful. You fell asleep.”

Noah sat up, rubbing the water from his face. He grinned, and kissed me, pulling me into the shower enough to completely soak my hair.

“Gah!” I exclaimed, bringing my hand up to shield my face from the water.

He smirked mischievously, and kissed me again, this time pulling me even farther into the tub. And this time, I didn’t resist him, completely under his command.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a hotter shower.

We even helped each other towel off. He took great care with drying my hair. I’ve never been so comfortable in my own skin than when I’m in his company. He must feel that way too.

I made waffles for breakfast, and ended up making way too many. I was sort of expecting Terra home.

Terra did come home after we had just sat down to watch telly, and made a beeline for the kitchen, where the coffeepot was happily purring. (
purr
-
colating
?) She gave us an odd look, followed by a kind of knowing smile as she sat down.

Mostly, I figured she already anticipated the fact that we did it last night, and our physical proximity on the couch was only confirmation.

I did have a dream about Tobias last night too. It was a sort of half-awake type dream, so I don’t remember it as clearly as other dreams.

In the middle of the night, I woke to see him sitting on the side of the bed, just staring off into the room.

“Tobias?”

He glanced at me when I said his name, and then looked away. “It’s cold.”

I smacked my lips together, and reached for his shoulder, to see how cold he was. And then he was gone.

I wonder if I was just hallucinating or something.

Weird.

I also noticed the extent of my like for Noah’s hair today. As we were watching telly I kept twirling it and stroking it,
marvelling
at the shortness. I guess when you’ve had long hair
forever,
the feeling of short hair is really cool.

Without debate or question, we are going to sleep in the same bed tonight. My bed, in the middle of
our everything
.

11 Days, 16 February, Monday

Well that’s a terrifying notion as well. It hadn’t occurred to me that
I’ll
eventually be able to count the days left on my hands.

Odd.

It’s not a pleasant thought, no matter how I look at it.

School today was relatively peaceful, except for the silence that Noah adopted midway through the day. I guess the memory of last week is getting to him. Exactly one week ago…

Most of the Bullies are away at some sporting event that we’re apparently supposed to care about.

Whatever. I’m just glad that they’re not here to antagonize us.

Interestingly enough, one of them didn’t go to the [insert sport here] event, and came and talked to us at Lunch.

Julia almost clocked him before he explained why he was here.

His name was Zack, and he was on the sports team. His skin is beautifully dark, and he’s got deep chocolate brown eyes. In retrospect, he almost seemed like an exact physical opposite to Noah.
Just an observation.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry to you.”

I vaguely recognized him as the quieter one in the group, the same one who would always look away when the Bullies would make rude comments.

Instantly, I smiled, and invited him to sit down at our table. I
dunno
, I always feel like if someone wants to say something important, we should be eye to eye.

Noah stared at him critically, not even blinking. The power behind his stare is almost frightening, even to me. I can’t imagine being on the receiving end. Julia sat back, and surveyed us both, with her lips pursed in obvious annoyance. Ariel smiled at Zack as he sat down, and he bit his lip, avoiding her gaze.

“So,” I leaned forward, “What did you want to say sorry for?”

“My… friends. They have done horrible things to you.” Zack addressed Noah now, feebly holding his icy blue gaze. “And I wanted to say I’m sorry. They’re horrible, and I know me apologizing won’t do much, but at least you know that I’m not with them.”

“Is that why you’re not with them on the trip?” I asked.

“Yeah… I faked sick. I just didn’t want to listen to them talk about you guys like that anymore. You seem like nice guys, and girls,” Zack inclined his head to Julia and Ariel, “So I decided that they really aren’t the company I want to keep.”

Nervously, Zack looked at Noah, who was still shooting daggers with his eyes. “S-so, would you have me?”

We all looked at Noah, because honestly, all things considered, it was his call right now.

“You are honourable.” Noah said, his expression lightening. “We will have you.”

Upon hearing that, I grinned broadly, and dug a container of cupcakes out of my backpack and plopped them on the table. “There, now, I made these last night. Everyone gets one!”

Zack smiled, and gratefully received one from me.

Julia still didn’t seem 100% convinced of Zack’s virtuosity, but Noah’s acceptance of him seemed to calm her. And Ariel’s not the type to hate people under any circumstance, so she was happy to have another friend at our table.

It’s great. It’s hard to believe we have another friend.

Although, it’s disturbing to me as well, because… well… This means that there’s going to be another person who’s going to be sad when I die.

But these friends aren’t for me so much as they are for Noah. It is my deepest wish that they
will
help him when I’m gone.

I wonder about the people who’ll attend my funeral. Assuming of course, that I’m going to have a service, since I want to be cremated. I hate the idea of my body crumbling in the dirt, and my skeleton. Frankly the idea of my bones in a box somewhere freaks me out. I
t
would
be much better to
take to the skies, and sink into the ocean and earth as a fine powder, a phantom of a body.

To
fly in
the wind, as is my namesake.
G
uess I never really thought about that
.
Terra and I are named after the Earth and the Air, respectively. It’s kind of cool. Mum and Dad both had Water and Fire names, respectively.

We’re a hippie family, I guess.

10 Days, 17 February, Tuesday

S
tared at my hands for twenty m
inutes this morning. Exactly.
I glanced at the clock every now and then.

It’s hard to believe that I can count down now. Ten days left. It sort of hurt to see those days laid out before me, I could touch them now, feel them in my hands.

I’ve decided, if nothing else, that the finger that represented my very last day, the 27
th
, was the ring finger on my right hand, which is where I held the promise. His ring is on that finger, and I just know… he’s going to be the last thing I see.

Curiosity towards the
after
consumed me today as well. Is there heaven? Hell?
Some other in between place?
I’ve never really considered the events of after until now. There must be something. All this business with fate and destiny and true love seem like way too big of concepts for this one tiny life. There has to be more time.

Last night was kind of
funny too, actually. H
ad a dream about being in Noah’s house. Or what I assumed to be his house, actually. I was in his bedroom, (again, an assumption) which was almost free of any sort of personal touch.

I was just standing beside the bed, which had a navy blue blanket on it, and beside it was a small table with a lamp. It was a completely normal looking bedroom. It was weird, when I compare it to the interesting stuff in his bedroom at
our
home.

Not to mention, this bedroom is dark, which is something I know he hates.

Then I noticed that Noah was lying in his bed, I swear he just appeared there out of nowhere. He was staring up at the ceiling, with his hands clasped together on his chest.

V
aguely wondered if this is how he spent a majority of his time when he was at home.