LA to The Bay

Chapter 47: Yosemite to San Francisco

Tour Bus, Bass Lake to San Francisco

I'd like to tell you that we are still locked together, our arms clinging and brows sweating, in a hazy comedown of post coital mist, but we're on a schedule here remember; we've got places to go and people to see. And so we're loaded up on the coach and waiting like nothing ever happened. I'm not sure what we're waiting for, since everyone is here and it's not like Leah to want to be late. Maybe she's just like the rest of us and is showing a human touch, not wanting to leave our secret hideaway and re-enter civilisation or maybe she's just proving a point after last time? But whatever the reason I'm only too aware as soon as we hit the freeway, that's it, it's back to reality and I've got that sinking feeling, like I just know that the best day of my life is over, the holiday is already ending and the plane is taxying down the runway heading back to England, where of course it's raining, even in July.

As if hearing my melancholy I catch Harry's eye as he is loading his backpack on to the shelf above his seat. He gives me a half smile and I return the gesture but nothing more. I'm not sure what to do now; I mean I am glad it happened, and if I'm honest I'd like it to again, but I'm not about to start throwing myself around town putting myself up against the Models Inc. in a bid to win him.

'Something tickling your fancy there Niamh?'

Duncan asks, clearly catching the smile I'm still enjoying from just reliving the moment, the way we had slumped together against the tree, still breathing heavily as we gathered ourselves, and then how he kept looking at me every so often, when he didn't think I was watching as we walked back to the cabins, like he couldn't believe his luck. He had appeared upset when I declined to spend the night with him, but I didn't want to ruin what it actually was, a basic animalistic moment. I'm not about to start bouncing around declaring my love for him, if that's what he's expecting. Plus I'm not sure where he thought we'd be sleeping without either Louis or Ana noticing?

Louis. I force myself to look at him, if only to inflict upon myself the guilt that I ought to be busy torturing myself with by now. But no matter how hard I try I can't seem to summon the feeling, because all I really feel is happy; I've no regret for what happened.

'I'm just remembering something funny that happened yesterday.' I half lie. I need to wipe the smug look from my face if it's that obvious, before anyone else notices.

'It's okay Marty.' I hear Juno speak loudly, like she wants everyone to hear their conversation.

'What's wrong with her?' I can see Juno has her arm around her best friend, obviously comforting her.

'Oh she won't stop crying. She was doing it last night too, apparently she's sad that her holiday romance with Harry will be ending soon.'

'Oh.' Is all I can say.

I'm certain that they're not together and that she is merely deluding herself, but the way she is sobbing so dramatically is stirring up a feeling of jealousy that I'm determined to banish. I will not be that girl, but what if he starts to feel sorry for her and then...?

The journey to San Francisco is short by America standards, at only a few hours, but still I can feel the glow of my conquest dissipating with every mile that we cover, not only because of the marked change in geography from dense forest to Mediterranean scrub, but also because of Marty's own melancholy, and the way everyone was fluttering around her, including Harry, when we took our lunch stop, and so by the time we're crossing the Bay Bridge and arriving in the city I've practically convinced myself that everything that happened at the lake is merely a fiction of my imaginations making.

Things don't improve as I step off the bus at our drop off point at Fisherman's Wharf; the cool temperature hits me like a frozen blanket and for the first time it's raining and I can't help but worry that the gloomy mist that is stretching out beyond the perimeters of the cities bridges is representative of the days to come. As the group quickly dissipates I realise that I'm alone in San Francisco and I don't have a clue what to do. I never thought this far ahead, I never planned past Las Vegas, and I have never felt further away from home as I do right now.

'Ana, Duncan.' I gasp with relief, like the only sheep in the field who has finally found its comrades. 'I was worried I was on my own.'

'Sorry we just got excited and went for a wander, but we're here now, don't worry.' Ana wraps her arm my shoulder cheerily, and I'm jealous at the way she is always so naturally happy. 'So let's go find some chowder, right?'

'Okay.' I gulp, already kicking myself for not studying my San Francisco guide book beforehand, because if I had done that then I would at least have some sort of clue where we are and what she is talking about.

'So what happened to you last night?' Ana asks as I stare at the bread roll soup bowl and creamy liquid which has just been served up to us at one of the area's multiple seafood restaurants we have chosen to eat at.

'I had a headache.' I speak quickly.

'Oh a headache.' She is smiling, 'I see. It's funny, I heard Harry had a headache too, that's why he had to leave the party early as well.'

'Did he? I wouldn't know.' I shrug my shoulders. 'Anyway, what about you two?' I faux grin at her, shifting the awkwardness on to the pair of them instead. As much as I hate lying I'm not about to just whip out all the gory details here at the dinner table, especially when I've not even had chance to process them fully myself yet.

Authors note: So I realise that some of you might be annoyed that the moment is over as quickly as it began but this is a fast paced story. However I wanted to get across in that Niamh doesn't regret what she did, which is maybe what you were expecting, but is instead standing by her actions.