Trusting Me, Trusting Her

i'll breathe when the leaves start falling

Chapter One 

Today, the sky is clear and the crisp autumn leaves are blanketing the floor in a canopy of orange monochrome; their descent to the dirt is slow, unrushed. Unbothered by the dim morning and the slight briskness of the air, the school children are racing back to classes on bicycles, spurring on their siblings hardly out of the womb long enough to walk, cushioned in the arms of sleepy mothers.

Here, in the idyllic town of Fowey, the tourists have wandered back to their homes and the business of the seaside has slowed to its natural halt. The evergreens flourish against the rain, damp with the warning of a storm.

'-and I wasn't sure about him in the first place, that's what makes this whole thing so much worse! If I had just listened to my intuition-,'

'Then you wouldn't be in this damn situation to begin with,' I finish for her, aptly. I notice that the leaves don't stop falling for Holly when she's upset; nor does the twinkling in the harbour, or the birds chirping or the children-

'Precisely,' she says, perhaps a little too proud for the topic of conversation. Despite having her boyfriend of five months cheat on her and find solace in Bethany Finnick, the college's token Kim Kardashian look-alike, Holly is remarkably upbeat. 'I didn't need him anyways; I always think better when the leaves start falling.'

I take a second to admire her charm, her unbeatable happiness and grace in the face of heartbreak. I don't doubt that she loved him; I envy her ability to move on.

To be frank, Holly is everything I am not, with her soft rounded cheeks and long strawberry blonde curls; her eyes are more stonewash cyan than the Fowey ocean floor, particularly on days like this, where the sun that burns her skin lovely tan, dips over the trees. She is bubbly, energetic, stoic and has the energy of a golden retriever pup. I truly love her. I resent Marcus for trying to dim her shine.

'What class are you in this morning?' she asks.

'English Lit,'

'Wanna meet me at Fowey Estuary for our break?'

'Always'

And with that, Holly and I split at the gates of Callywith College without a formal goodbye. She sprints over to the sports field in her fluffy grey hoodie and goosebump-tickled legs to greet her more like-minded buddies, Amir and Kayla, who are her teammates in track. They're also tanned, lean and graceful, giggling as soon as my best friend dances over to them. With the smallest sigh, I turn back and trudge up the external steps and into the main hall, where the raging atmosphere of lost first-years makes me miss the Fowey winters, trapped in our homes with nothing but warm cocoa, candlelight and an endless stream of Netflix recommendations, forced to complete college tasks from the safety of bed.

I look out of the window and finally breathe out when I see the leaves falling; they won't stop just because I'm sad.

Three Months Earlier at Fowey Estuary

It's June.

The tourists have taken over everything, like an infestation. The air is sweltering hot, making my bones feel uncomfortable in their own skin and Cornwall truly is as beautiful as ever. We're thundering through the coast-line in a three-door Corsa, Glass Animals blaring through the shot speakers and basking in the sun's incessant heat, with Holly in the front-seat and Amir Benham, whom I have only known for three weeks, by my side.

Kayla Forester has her elbow hanging out of the driver's window, shades on, a peaceful expression washing over her harsh features. Her face is long, with a protruding chin and a pointed, authoritative nose sticking right out of it. She is utterly confident in herself, manipulating her expression often into one which is calculated, confident and reeks of 'I Don't Give a Damn About Your Opinions, I Can Run Faster and Harder in Cornish Heat Waves Than You Ever Could'.

I hoped one day they could be my friends, too. I trusted Holly's judgement. Kayla turns down the music and angles her neck slightly to indicate that she's asking a group question.

'Does anyone want to stop off for some ice-cream?'

And that's when it hits me.

The sharpest, gun-shot-esque feeling ripping through my sternum with enough force to trigger my fight or flight. My brain screams wrong, wrong, wrong and all of a sudden, I am certain that I must go home, right now or nothing will ever be right again, ever. My palms are sweating; I'm pounding Kayla's seat with my knees.

'I need to go home now! Something's not right! Take me home, PLEASE!'

Effortlessly spinning the car around in the middle of the road, Kayla glances at me in the rearview mirror, one eyebrow perfectly raised in question. I can't answer. My breathing is shallow.

'If you didn't want to go, you could've just said so, Jesus,' she muttered under her breath, tapping the accelerator with slightly more force than before. I am just grateful that she listened.

Holly glances at me, and then Amir, before finally settling on Kayla, looking a little self-conscious. Perhaps if I was in a better state of mind, I'd apologise for embarrassing her in front of her college friends. But right now, I don't care. All I know is that I can't breathe and something is wrong.

I do not wish them goodbye as I hurtle out of her backseat like a furious toddler, unsteady on my feet and stomach rolling with nerves and confusion. I vaguely hear a car door slam behind me and suddenly Holly has her hands around my shoulders, questioning me softly.

'Are you okay, Gen?'

'What the fuck is happening?'

'Gen? Genevieve! Can you hear me?'

I can, over the blood rushing through my ears. Almost in unison, like a messed up alignment of the Cosmos, my front door opens and Holly and I stand straight to attention as my siblings come out onto the front porch, wide-eyed and starry gazed.

'What is it?' I bark. They freeze. I bark again. 'What's wrong, guys!'

'It's mum,' Isobel replies, swallowing, then a burst of tears spew from her eyelids. 'It's mum, Gen. It's mum! She-she's dead!'