The Bright Side

Chapter 7 - Part 1

TRISTAN

Come next morning, I'm tired and I'm a nervous wreck. I cut my throat while shaving. I miss a step on my way down and save my life by clinging onto the banister. I spill the milk all over the table as I prepare me some cereals. I want to go and see Sky and I'm looking for an excuse to stay home. It's Monday, Sky and I both have the morning off and we want to go to The Skate Shop in Dorchester. His grip tape is totally worn down from practising the Dark Slide over and over, rather unsuccessfully. Alright, that's really just an excuse to go, it was kind of convenient since we both wanted to for ages. Wanted to. I'm not so sure anymore that I still do.

The sudden occurrence of clumsiness makes me leave my skateboard at home, because I have a feeling that I shouldn't risk it today. I walk to the bus stop and I'm so tense that my movement is all jerky and stiff. Sky's already there, sitting on a bench, looking great. Not a hint of a hangover marking his face.

"Hey, there! How are we today?"

Despite my cheerful greeting I feel like walking over a layer of drying glue, each step I take towards him makes it harder to lift my feet. My smile is fat and hopefully convincing and there's such turmoil inside of me that I have no idea how I'm actually feeling about seeing him.

"Yeah. I am. And that's about it."

"Serves you right. Geez, mate."

"Mmmpfh." Sky rearranges his perfectly sitting beanie and rubs his hand over his neck.

"You remember any of last night?" I ask and I desperately wish that my brains were quicker than my mouth.

Sky stares at his feet and clears his throat.

"Some things. I'm not so sure what I made up, though," he confesses. "Listen. Tristan? Did I... ummm... did I tell you...?"

I cut him off, my heart making up for the stillness of my body.

"That O'Sullivan is your father? Yeah." I say it like it's the only possible thing that could bother him. "Don't you worry. I won't tell anyone."

"Alright. Thanks."

I clap his shoulder and then turn towards the street and try to draw the bus nearer by sheer will.

"Umm..." Sky starts.

"It's alright. Everything is alright."

I focus on the furthest possible spot down the road so I'll see the bus as soon as it turns the corner.

I hear Sky suck in his breath. "Ok."

In the beginning, when I met Sky, talking to him hadn't been easy. Today it feels like back then. The easy conversation of the past few weeks is a struggle for words again. There's too much unsaid to talk safely. I can't find something to say and neither does Sky, so we sit in silence until the white rectangular shape of the bus comes to a screeching halt in front of us.

SKY

His face is the same as yesterday; sweet, impish, adorable. Same astonishingly light blue eyes. Same button nose with the small mole on his left nostril. The difference is that there is now about a square inch of skin less I haven't kissed. It takes up all of my self-control to not stare at his mouth.

I knew that I was doomed the second Tristan showed up at East Coast yesterday evening. There was a hollow feeling in my stomach, cautioning me but I flushed it away until I didn't care anymore, until protecting what's inside of me wasn't that important anymore. I remember telling him about my feelings, not clearly, but my heart still thuds like it now doesn't have to do it secretly anymore. I remember kissing him; now or never, the reverberation of his lips on mine still flowing in ripples through my body.