The Bright Side

Chapter 9 - Part 2

SKY

"Blimey, that's one awkward wake," Mark states as he sits down next to me on the front steps. His fingers tap nervously against his thigh. "I need a blunt, mate."

I pull my fags from my pocket, flip the lid open and hold them out to him. "Substitute?"

"Yeah, thanks."

We light them and their smell immediately saturates the air around us. Tristan's house is cramped with people I've seen at the funeral, but don't know. Tristan, Rory and Judy are sitting in the living room, together with Tristan's grandmother and whoever joins them puts up a face that's supposed to show compassion but reeks of insecurity because no one really knows how to deal with the strange situation. So basically, a lot of people are hiding out in the kitchen and the hallway, talking about their everyday issues, catching up on each other's lives, whispering lame old jokes they've been wanting to tell each other for ages. I fidgeted around in the living room too for a while, wanting to support Tristan, who looked utterly lost sitting between his Mum and Gran; nervously tugging at his curls while staring at his lap, but felt so uncomfortable by the unsaid thoughts everybody had about his Dad, that I had to flee. The feeling of being out of place suffocated me. Mark seems to have felt the same; it took him five seconds before he joined me outside, like he had just waited for a signal that it was alright to leave.

"Can I ask you something, Sky?" Mark breaks the silence.

"Sure. You can ask anything," I reply, because depending on where this is going I reserve the right to answer. Or lie. Something in his tone urges vigilance.

There's no ash to be flicked off, but Mark still taps the fag repeatedly. It makes me nervous.

"Is there something going on between you and Tristan?"

"What?" Ok, so this totally caught me off guard. "What makes you think... what do you even mean?"

"No offence, mate." He shrugs. "It's just... I don't know. You're weird around each other."

Mark has always seemed like a totally oblivious guy to me, who didn't care for much besides his next high. Guess, I judged him wrong.

"How?" I make sure my face is shut down and dare to look him in the eye.

"I don't know." Yeah, you said that before. "It's just... the way he looks at you? Seems a bit intense."

My heart is currently trying to break its way through my rib cage.

"And how you hugged earlier?"

"What's wrong with hugging?" I ask as casually as possible.

So, it's not just me. Mark noticed it, too. Boy, the way Tristan had wrapped himself around me at the cemetery, his face nestled against my throat and his hold on me so strong and ...somehow needy. It was pretty hard to believe that it had been nothing but a friend-ish kind of hug. Aside from the fact that I was the only person he hugged, all his family included.

"No, nothing wrong with hugging." Mark takes a deep drag. "It's just... weird for Tristan. He's not usually a touchy person. All I got was a fist bump and I've known him since kindergarten."

"Jealous?" I smirk.

"Yeah, maybe," he admits.

I just shake my head a bit attempting to make clear how ridiculous he sounds.

"So, is there? Something going on?"

"And by something you mean what?" His nosiness and the sensitivity of the topic alone are enough to make my voice sharp.