Wilde Fire

Chapter 11: Present

When we left Kala, I was so consumed with my depression and grief that I almost forgot I had other people to miss. I knew that I would most likely never see Kelby and Owen Blackwood again, but I didn't have time to be upset about it. They played a significant role in my life, but I realized that if life was ever going to be the same again, it seemed only necessary to leave the rest of the story behind. I cherished my memories with the Blackwoods, but I kept them as such: memories. Yet when I see Owen Blackwood in that alcove beside the river, it feels as if I am almost whole again.

We stand with our arms around one another for several seconds, the only sound being the soft hum of air that escapes our noses and mouths simultaneously. I am glad when Owen finally decides to speak, because I was struggling to find the words.

"What are you doing here?" he whispers softly, pulling away long enough to look into my eyes, searching for an answer.

Looking up at him, I have the instant feeling that I am staring into the face of a stranger. Of course, I have seen him before. Yet I have completely missed the stages of Owen's life where he changed the most, the years in which Owen Blackwood transformed into the man who stands before me now.

"We moved back," I whisper, my voice quivering. While it is the truth, I am scared to reveal my initial reaction to coming back to Kala. I do not want Owen to know that I have spent the last four years in misery.

The smile that crosses Owen's face is more than enough for me. I continue to stare at him, noticing that his blonde hair has been cut shorter, but his blue eyes are as bright as I always remembered.

He hugs me again.

"I can't believe you're here," he says quietly, "I can't believe it's really you." His voice sounds so calm, so much deeper than the voice that wound through my memories. But when he pulls away from me, there are tears in his eyes. I am not the only one who missed my best friend.

"It's me," I whisper back.

His hands reached up to cup my face, the warmth of his palms on my cheeks. I reach for his wrists, holding his hands in place, allowing his touch to consume me. He gently presses his forehead to mine, the heat of his skin, the shadow of his face engulfing me. I close my eyes and wish to be in this moment forever.

And then he kisses me.

It is brief, the pressure of his lips on my own, the taste of the salt on his tongue, and then just as quickly as it begins, it ends.

"I- I'm sorry," he stammers. His facial expression changes; he doesn't look sad or happy anymore, he simply looks confused. He rubbs at his temple, ruffling a tuft of blonde hair. "I don't know why I did that."

Instinctively, my fingers brush my lips. I am stunned, but I can not shake the euphoric spark that is still running through my veins. "Don't apologize," I say quickly. I reach for him, and feel a chill when he steps away. "It's been a long time, Owen. It's okay--"

"No." He runs a hand through his hair and bites his lip. He is no longer looking at me. "It's not okay, Sidney. We're friends--we were always just friends. That was wrong."

I want to shake him, to tell him that it is not wrong. In fact, nothing has ever felt more right. But he continues to back away from me, shaking his head. It all happened so fast, I don't blame him for being confused. Yet it feels as if the world is crumbling beneath my feet all over again. Here he is, my best friend, and now he is leaving me instead of the other way around.

"Don't leave, Owen," I call out to him, my throat constricting. "Please."

"I'll catch up with you tomorrow, Sidney. I promise. I just can't right now--I can't." Just as quickly as he arrived back into my life, he is gone again.

I stand on the grass in the alcove, watching in dismay as Owen Blackwood climbs back onto his lawn mower and cranks the engine. In just a few short moments, his presence becomes a silhouette along the horizon, the hum of the lawnmower diminishing in the distance.

I reach up to touch my lips again. They are still moist, still surprised by Owen's sudden move. All at once, the euphoric feeling is gone and I am perplexed.

As much as I hate to admit it, he is right. What happened was wrong--it was all wrong. When I left Kala Island, Owen and I were barely fourteen years old. We were friends and nothing more. But seeing Owen today somehow felt different. Suddenly, we were not just kids who used to spend every moment of our days together, kids who experienced the downfall of a relationship and an entire family; now we were adults, struggling to cope with the realization that we had missed too much of one another to simply return to normal. Four years passed in which we did not speak, four years in which we both transformed into entirely different people. Perhaps normal would never be the same again. But was that necessarily a bad realization to come to?

The last few months that Owen and I spent together were not the best for anyone. We witnessed Ben's diagnosis, when we all finally found out that there was a medical reason for his behavior; we saw Ben slowly dissipate under the weight of the word that had suddenly taken over his life; we sat back and watched as Kelby and Ben's relationship crumbled, starting with that awful Halloween night; and then we watched in horror as my brother single-handedly destroyed his own life and attempted to take my parents with him in the process.

Our lives were not as picture-perfect as I constantly tried to make them seem; therefore, our friendship was hanging by a string long before we left for the city. On top of the several months of pain that we endured, we spent four long years in entirely separate cities that might as well have been opposite ends of the world.

It should not have come as such a shock that the first moment Owen and I spent together turned into an unfamiliar scenario. We just were not the same as before. In fact, considering the time we were apart was twice as long as the time we knew one another, it was as if we were really meeting for the first time. Owen Blackwood was not the young boy, my partner in crime, that I was forced to leave behind, at least not anymore. Now, he was the handsome young stranger that I desperately wanted to get to know.