The Bright Side

Chapter 9 - Part 1

SKY

"Are you fucking nuts?"

"Joanna, please!" I try to reason with her. "A friend in need...?"

"What on earth makes you call me at.... 7.15 o'clock in the morning? During holidays?" she barks at me through the phone. Yeah, I know she's not a morning person, but this is an emergency.

"He spooned me!"

"Oh, fucking hell. Stop grossing me out with your freakish gay sex stuff. I don't want to hear about it. Ever. And certainly not at seven in the morning." There's the rustling of sheets and a loud squeak from probably her mattress. "Wait, what? Who spooned you? Straight Boy?"

"Tristan. Yes."

I've called her a few weeks ago, during those screwed up days right after the kiss when I feared that I've scared Tristan away completely, seeking for comfort and reassurance. Desperation seemed to have made me idiotic; calling Jo for emotional support is like calling a plumber for brain surgery and instead of sympathy I had her laugh at me for minutes. Which was what I actually needed. Someone to call me on my shit. She's not a mean person, she's just tough and that's what I like about her. She won't suck up to me or do a fairy dance around my feelings. She's real.

"Oh, my... How? When did he have the opportunity to spoon you?"

"Tonight. He slept over."

"Details, Sky. More details. I didn't even have coffee so you need to spell it out for me."

"Alright. Short version. His Dad died, he came over and asked to sleep over and I woke up in the middle of the night because I couldn't move. He had his cast hooked around my waist and his head on my shoulder."

Our sheets had been between us, but it had still been close. My shoulder blade still tingled from remembering the pressure of his face against it, of him rubbing his cheek against it as he stirred but didn't wake up. I could still feel the weight of his cast on my lower back.

"Blimey! Is he still with you?"

"No. He was gone when I woke up. Left a note though saying 'Early bird went to work. Talk to you later! Thanks again, Tristan' and three Xs underneath his name."

I brush my fingers over the letters, all crooked like a pre-schooler would write because of the cast. Three Xs. Three kisses.

"Ok. So, what do you need from me?"

"Talk some sense into me. Convince me that it doesn't mean anything. Keep me from getting my hopes up or urgh, rather bring them down again."

"Do you think he was making a move when he spooned you?"

"No, definitely not!"

Tristan had been fast asleep; I could tell by his deep and even breathing and the soft snores that escaped him every now and then. But still it had to mean something that he had snuggled up to me.

"So, basically you're hoping all of this means that he's subconsciously in love with you?"

"Maybe?"

"Goodness, Sky." She sucks in her breath and I can easily imagine the condescending frown on her face. "Forget it. He is straight, isn't he? You told me about his ex-girlfriend."

"And the kisses?" Deep inside I know she's right, but hope has always been my weak point. The one emotion I have never been able to reason with. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing. You're supposed to do nothing. Come to think of it, Sky, I'll tell you what: It doesn't matter if he's straight, gay, bi, pan or any other kind of queer. It wouldn't matter if you knew for sure that he's in love with you. You dropped the ball in his court and now it's all up to him. If he likes you back, he will let you know eventually. Until then, hold your horses. Or stallion, whatever you prefer."

"And if he doesn't come around to it?" What if I leave for Oxford before Tristan has a chance to discover the secret feelings, I wish he has for me? They might vanish before I come back to Seaford again. I can't believe how lame I sound even if it's only inside my head.

"Then you'll at least have a friend at home," Jo points out. "The only thing you get to decide is whether you can take the uncertainty or not. If you push it you're going to ruin everything."

Just the thought that I will be leaving soon makes me sick. Even before I met Tristan I never wanted to go back and even less now. Going from seeing him every day to not seeing him at all, just the prospect of such cruelty makes me cringe. She is right, though. I'll at least have a reason to come back if I manage to keep my cool. I'll still have him as a friend.

"Yeah. Alright. Thanks."

"Can I go back to sleep now?" she barks.

I simply hang up on her and pull my blanket back over my face. Four more weeks. Four more weeks that will either end with me having ruined my friendship with Tristan by doing something stupid again, by me being in limbo or - and that one makes my skin tingle although I don't even dare to hope for such an outcome – me and Tristan together. Twenty-eight fricking days.

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