Fifteen | ✓

fourteen

i am planning to do a triple update today, and finish the story once and for all.

•••
In the second to the last week of summer, the tiny time space in which August rolls up itself and September begins to prepare to spread its orange blanket across the world, Christopher took her to a lake.

He had picked her up from her house at approximately 5:30 pm, and she noticed the shade underneath his eyes had deepened themselves into shadowy trenches. He didn't seem to have made any effort with his hair which he'd simply tied into an untidy knot at the back of his head, and his effervescence, the ever rising bubbles of his personality, seemed to have finally fizzled into thin air.

"Sketch," he said meekly, moving forward and enveloping her in a tight embrace. She felt the heat of his breath tickle her scalp and his chin dig into the top of her head.

It appeared like it was the first time he had ever hugged her, and after a moment of thought, she realized it really was.

Catherine cleared her throat, fearing the formidability of the sudden display of affection. "Don't go all sappy on me." She forced a laugh, patting his back and pulling away.

His arms tightened around her almost automatically, bringing their bodies back into contact until she reciprocated with equal enthusiasm. "Just a little more," he murmured. With a last squeeze, he released her, and she wondered if it was just the lighting or his eyes actually looked shinier and more glossed over than before he had hugged her. "I needed that."

He walked quietly to the driver's side of Rebecca, pulling the car door open and entering, while she followed suit, slightly too stunned to speak.

"Christopher what's wrong?" she wanted to ask, but refrained, expecting him to brush it off as usual.

As they stopped at a red light, she noticed a cigarette butt stuffed into a compartment in the centre console, but said nothing.

•••

They arrived at the docks at 7:00 pm. The sun was still setting and the sky had been streaked with a million shades of yellow, red, orange, and pink, as if the angels had swatched the firmaments with a dozen paintbrushes. 

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked Christopher, pulling out her phone to capture the image and keep it forever within the four walls of a two dimensional world.

A loose wisp of his black hair photo-bombed it as soon as a gust of wind came in through the rolled down windows. He shrugged. "I guess it is. I'd rather look at you, though."

Her heart leaped so high that she feared she would have soon been upchucking it across the rubber mats of Christopher's car floor along with her undigested lunch.

Even when he was moody he still managed to be charming.

She watched him exit the vehicle and slam its door close, before she took initiative and unbuckled her seatbelt, clambering out as well.

The docks were positioned beside a thicket, and as they sauntered down a short wooden bridge that would lead to where a handful of canoes were arranged, she admired the crowns of the trees and the gentleness in which the sun licked them.

Christopher pushed one of the small boats along the sandy shore that bordered the lake while she busied herself with the oars.

"This place is really peaceful," Catherine mused, more to herself than anybody, but he took it upon himself to reply.

"My mum used to take me here when I was small," he was saying just as the canoe cornered the bank, "every Sunday afternoon, and sometimes my dad would come along if he had the time."