Wherever You Go [Katy Perry Fan fiction]

Chapter Seventy-Three [Part 2]

"Baby, come on, you can do it." I lightly clap my hands in front of her. Her face lights up and a look of determination flashes through the two oceans that were her eyes. She grins a mischievous grin, sticking out her tongue in between teeth and gums.
I held her hand a little looser, feeling myself worry as I did. I didn't want to let her go, but I knew I had to if I wanted her to succeed. She's always been so clever though. Right from the beginning. 'An eager one' so the midwife would say. It didn't take long for her to start holding up her own head; just a couple of months old and she was rolling around on the floor telling all kinds of stories. None that made sense to us, of course, but she kept herself entertained.
"Don't be scared, I got you." I promised her, and I notice her bite her lip in thought. She was debating her trust in me. If she couldn't get her balance would I let her fall or would I be the one to catch her? She thought carefully, staring out at the rest of the living room, as she questioned at the same time whether or not she could get to the other side.
Her gaze returned to me. A leg stepped forwards in front of the other, and a six month old Sammie took her first step. I saw the confidence in her increase. She knew she could do it. She believed in herself now.
Slowly she pulls her hand out of mine. Her arms remain out at either side of her for balance, as she takes two more small steps across the lounge. I follow beside her, ready to keep my promise if she falls, but she doesn't. She carries on. Another step. And then another. There was no stopping her now.
Sammie steps confidently across the front room, hoping that the whole world is watching her as she completes her goal successfully. Her tiny arms reach out for the wall, gripping it for safety as she finally reaches the other end of the lounge. Sammie turns to face me with pride; my face matched hers. Same features. Same expression. And I pull her into my arms and engulf her in the warmest of hugs. I feel her tiny hands grip onto my shirt as she giggles into my hair.
"You did it! I told you you would!" I kissed her head repeatedly. I was so proud. My baby had taken her first steps, and I had been the one there lucky enough to witness it. My baby. Nobody else's. My possession. My creation. My best decision. "Mommy's so proud of you."
I was quick to realise what I had just said. A wide-eyed Sammie just gazed up at me with a heart melting smile on her face.
"I mean," I sigh, choking back the tears, "K-Katy's proud of you."
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I sat there watching him. He was deep in thought; the end of a pencil sat comfortably between his top and bottom row of perfectly aligned teeth. A blonde curly mess of hair swept across the left of his forehead, the ends just falling slightly into his vision. He was focusing on the words of his book: Of Mice and Men. I remember it clearly. The way his eyebrows creased into a v shape as he read each word thoroughly. Literature wasn't really his forte, I had gathered over the past few weeks, but he focused as best he could. It was one of the only subjects that he was able to sit in without being distracted by his idiotic friends. I didn't take to them much at all. Him, though, he was different in so many ways. He wasn't like the rest of them. He was kind and big hearted. He was thoughtful and lovely. But there was something more about Oliver that drew me to him. Was it the way his green eyes sparkled every time he smiled, or the way he bit the corner of his lip in concentration? Or maybe the way he got nervous and stuttered adorably when Mr Ashburns asked him to read aloud in front of the class. I don't know. I couldn't explain it. All I remember was feeling a sudden warmth through my body every time I saw him. Ever since he pushed over his English Language book to me to share in third period a few weeks ago, and caught me off guard with his beautiful gaze.
It was that beautiful gaze that was now staring at me over the Of Mice and Men book, looking at me intently with an almost amused look. I hadn't realised until I regained my vision and  noticed that our eyes were locked in one another's, and not only that, but the other thirty-two pairs of eyes around the class were staring at me too.
"Miss Hudson?" Hearing Mr Ashburn's voice, I turn my head to face him. He holds the book we're reading, up in the air and taps the page with his finger. "If you want to start failing in my class then continue, but if you want to carry on getting your grades then I suggest you pay attention."
"Sorry, sir." I mutter through a breath.
English and English Literature were the only subjects at school that I actually got a decent grade in. I liked reading the books because it helped to widen my vocabulary. That came in useful when I would go home, pick up my guitar and write my songs. I also had a place in my heart for Shakespeare.
I looked back over at Oliver James. He was still looking back, a now, less amused but more cute, smile across his face. It was only small, but it was there.
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I twitched in my seat, nervously. It was warm outside but I kept on my jacket, playing with the loose piece of fabric that hung off my sleeve. Or more so, his sleeve. It was his jacket. I wore it all the time because I guess when he was away, it was comforting. His cologne still hung to the material and so I would go to bed at night smelling him.
I looked up from my seat, but nothing. I shook my knee anxiously, beginning to bite my lip in anticipation as I waited for a little bit longer. This wasn't something that I enjoyed, most definitely not, but it was what made Oliver happy, and I had to accept that. I had never experienced fear like it in my life, sitting in a school classroom everyday and staring over at his empty seat, knowing that, really, that's where he should be. Instead, he was out somewhere in Afghanistan being shot at by terrorists. The thoughts terrified me. I had these little imageries in my head sometimes of coming home from school to the most awful news I could imagine - that I'd lost him.
Oliver's parents stood across from me, just as anxious as I was. His older sister, Diane, paced the airport with crossed arms, her head looking out towards the runway every couple of seconds in the hope for her little brother's appearance.
I stood up from my seat, copying Diane's motions and folding my arms comfortably across my chest. I looked down at my shoes as I sighed, starting to get a little impatient. I hadn't seen Oliver in five months. We had gone from spending every waking second in one another's company, 'joined at the hip' so our parents would say, to only getting a phone call once every three weeks and only seeing him for a week every five months. I definitely underestimated in the beginning how difficult it would be. My parents said that soon it would get easier, and everyday would help me to get used to it. But it didn't. I couldn't get used to it. It didn't get easier. It only got more difficult.
Just as the tear was about to fall from the corner of my eye, I felt the warmth of a body right behind me. It was so close that I could feel the heartbeat against my skin. Then suddenly my hair fell in front of my face as something slid onto my head. I span around on my heels, only to be met by my favourite smile in the entire world.
"Ol," I shakily breathed out, then noticing that he had put his green uniform hat on my head. His hair was messed up where he has removed it from his own head. "Oh my god, you're here."
"I'm back," he whispers, until finally, after twenty whole weeks of living without his presence, I was engulfed into the biggest hug I had ever received from him. His arms secured me in, locking me tightly into his grip and I wouldn't even care if he never let me go. I could feel him kissing my shoulder over and over. I had longer for his touch for so long and now that I finally had it, I was overwhelmed and just couldn't get enough.
"I've missed you so much," I whispered tearfully into his neck.
Oliver held me tighter at that point. His scent was so comforting. I just melted into him entirely, knowing that I had him back - safe and alive. He was here and we were together. Finally, after five whole months, I was home.