Chapter Six
"So do any of you actually know how to golf?" Louis asked.
"I do, I'm quite the champ." Niall boasted.
"Yeah like how you're 'quite the champ' at bowling." Louis rolled his eyes, and it made me giggle. I quickly covered my mouth so no one would hear it.
"How cute." Zayn joked, putting an arm around my shoulder.
"This time I'm serious." Niall said. Ed finally came back with six clubs and six balls all in different colors.
"So the guy said we can only go four people per course so let's split up." Ed said.
"I don't mind going on the other." I shrugged.
"Neither do I." Louis said.
"Okay, well I'm going to use the restroom, I'll catch up later." Niall said. We all split up, Louis and I on the fourth course.
"So how old are you?" Louis asked, as he set his ball on the greenery.
"Fifteen, about to be Sixteen. I'm February 1st" I said. "You?" I asked.
"Same here, I'll be sixteen December 24th." He said.
"Oh wow, Christmas Eve?" I asked.
"Mhm." He said, putting the ball and flat out missing.
"So, you've always lived here?" I asked Louis.
"No, used to live in Doncaster." He said.
"Ah, I'm originally from Cheshire." I said. "I don't quite remember it though. I only have small memories from when I was younger, like- never mind. You wouldn't understand what I'm saying."
"Why don't you just tell me?" He asked. "I'll listen, talk to me when you get home."
"Why are you so interested?" I asked.
"I just am." He smiled softly. "Now let's get back to this."
-
"I remember two girls, and a boy. I still remember their names, but there's another boy, and I don't remember his name because mum never mentioned him to me." I started out.
"What did he look like?" Louis asked.
"He had these blue eyes, and thin lips. He always liked to paint the sky, and take pictures of people. He never painted or took picture of anything else." I started.
"Maybe because he had a reason." Louis suggested.
"Of course he did, he told me a while later. I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone, so I can't tell you." I said.
"That's okay, I'm sure he'd appreciate that." Louis was leaning back against a tree.
"Anyway, we were best friends, I loved him so much. Then one day he left."
He muttered something, but I didn't hear him.
"Mum said he couldn't talk to me anymore, it broke me into pieces. I loved him, I was in love with him. I still feel like I love him, but how could I after what happened?" I looked up to see Louis still listening. "It hurt me, a lot, and I always connected him with the things I see. I always paint him somewhere in my art, or I'll take a picture of something anyone would find meaningless, but I found it so meaningful because I could see him again. Not him, but I could see the stars in the sky resemble him. At one point mum made me go see someone, they made me take a test every month based on what I had told him. They made me do these exercises that slowly helped me forget the small things I knew about him. Like I couldn't remember his favorite color, but I think it was the color of my eyes. I can't remember his food, but I think it was the muffins I made in the early mornings when mum and dad weren't home." A small smile left my lips. "But I'll always remember why he painted the sky and why he took pictures of people, because I never told anyone."
"His mum told him once, that people paint what they want to see when they're sad, and that people take pictures of the things they're most afraid of loosing." Louis said. My eyes went wide, not believing those were the exact words his friend had once said, except it was a My instead of a His.
"How did you know that?" I asked him, looking into his blue eyes.
He chuckled, "His favorite color is forest green, the color of your eyes in the fall. His favorite food is the blueberry muffins you would make during the winter, because the blueberries reminded you of his eyes. His favorite thing to do was sit with you-"
"By the river." We both said at the same time.
-
