A Word in the Breeze

The Note

It was late afternoon, and two twenty-year-olds were sitting in her living room laughing about something.

"And he forgets where he kept them!" she was saying to him as he shook silently in apparent hilarity. "And he says, well, Kylie, I guess I'm not inventing the hovercraft for another two weeks!"

Ewan wiped tears from his eyes.

"He's unique, your dad, really."

"I don't know how they put up with him. Mad scientist to the core. He's convinced he'll invent time travel someday."

"Well, that I'd like to see," he stated. They we're being typical science graduates - skeptical of everything.

All through the evening they laughed and talked, until, in the recesses of his mind, Ewan began thinking of something entirely unrelated. It wasn't new, because it was always on his mind. He ended up thinking about it a lot these days.

He was thinking about the ring in his pocket.

When would be the right moment? Now?

No. Later. He was sure he could tell her later.

Another part of his mind said, you'll die before you get the courage to tell her.

It was almost a lucky guess.

~

He left her house at 8, as he often did on such visits. Later than that and he'd have to deal with her father. Sure, Mr Calimworth would retreat into his underground lab after a few minutes, but Ewan didn't trust himself with him today. Not after laughing about him for the better part of the evening.

As he sat in his bedroom, alone, he thought about Kylie. They had a funny story. He remembered it as he looked at the ring...

~

It began two years ago, in a library.

They would always fondly remember that day. It must have been fate, that they met at all. There wasn't even a clear reason. The only excuse was that they both happened to be there at the same time, and she happened to drop a piece of paper from between her book, while crossing to the next aisle.

"Excuse me, you dropped something."

He picked up the paper after her. She didn't hear him, so he opened it. Crouched on the floor of the library, he could feel the smile linger on his lips.

He rounded a shelf to face her.

"Excuse me?" He was smiling at her now. She was beautiful, so it might have been an exaggerated smile. "Is this yours?"

Recognition came as a guilty start. She opened and closed her mouth, definitely a bit embarrassed. He could see she could easily get angry any moment now so he speeded up.

"Just one question: Which class was it?"

A moment later they were laughing politely, sitting across from each other. Between them lay the note, a handwritten pencil scrawl: "Jenna, get me out of this class before I die of boredom."

"But he's that dull, you know!" she said in earnest.

"If he were any duller he'd be pitch black," he declared.

She laughed at that, and he watched her.

"You know," he said at last,"You don't seem the type to slack off lessons."

She smiled at the compliment. "No, I skip the useless ones sometimes to come here instead. It's easier to study yourself sometimes."

"Yeah. Yeah... Or with someone else."

She held his eyes.

He began to rise.

"You know I'd better be off, but I hope I see you here more often."

She rose too.

"You probably will. I'm always here in breaks... Or after 4... "

"I look forward to it."

And they did see each other more often. In fact, more and more often all the time, until there was no person they saw as often as each other anymore.

This happened over the span of two years.

Now their friendship had reached a point they both knew there was no returning from. Barring actual physical contact, they had been through everything together, sharing every instant of their lives, every inkling of the mind, every yearning of the heart.

Well, not every yearning of the heart.

~

In the present, Ewan put away the ring. Maybe next week he would tell her.

Suddenly there was a glow. He looked up to the center of his dilapidated bedroom and ogled. There was a blue glow, a sudden twisting noise that burned his ears and then -

"Are you Ewan Harper?"

It was a girl, teenage by the look of her, and she had materialised out of thin air. She looked vaguely familiar, and she almost leapt towards him in relief.

"It is you! Oh, I'm sorry, but you have to go! It's nearly time."

He stared, speechless. The next words she spoke knocked the life back into him.

"You have to go see her. Now."

A sensible man wouldn't have reacted the way he did. A sensible man would have stood his ground, asked questions, demanded to know who she was and what her business was around here.

But Ewan wasn't sensible. He was in love, and he did what felt sensible at the time.

He grabbed his coat and ran.