Make believe

Chapter 19

"It-it just...hurts.." I mumbled after being asked if I was okay. Repeatedly. I loved that Aubree was caring and understood how I felt, but I'd rather not think about the way Luke's lips lightly brushed by mine, igniting both my emotions and want for him to be close. Though the memory was comforting, the rest of the memory, just...wasn't. The events of that day had forced me to confront my feelings for the blue-eyed boy. I had just brushed them off before, but at the theatre, after he held my hand, I realized how strong my feelings for him may be. What happened on the balcony only confirmed my thoughts.

"I know, Ray, I know." She answered and sent me a comforting smile from where she sat by my window. To the right of my bed, a large bay-window protruded from my room. A built-in, pillow covered bench sat underneath it; light poured in through the room from the now-clear sky. It had stopped raining and the rays of light illuminated Aubree's blonde hair as it filtered through the glass, giving her hair a sort of halo. She sat there, with her legs crossed, a grey and black pillow settled on her lap.

I was sprawled across my bed, my head bent at an angle to see and make eye-contact with Aubree as we talked. My house was completely empty, with the exception of us two. You'd think my parents, or at least my mom, would've taken the day off, or even gone in late, to stay and spend time with me. I'm not trying to make a big deal out of the shooting, and I'm not saying I'm extremely close with either of them, but it would've been nice to know that if I wanted them around, they would be there.

"So, am I going to meet Luke?" I looked up to see her giving me a silly grin as she played with her hair. "And Ashton? And the other guys." I realized I had barley even told Aubree of Michael and Calum; not even their names.

"Uh, yeah? Yeah, sometime..." I hadn't even thought about introducing her to them. It's silly, I don't know why it never crossed my mind.

"Sometime soon, I hope. I need to meet the boy causing my Laraine all this unhappiness." A breathy laugh escaped from my mouth as I rolled my eyes.

"You have been spending an awful lot of time with them..." I could hear the humor in her voice and grinned, but all I could think about, or say, was "maybe not anymore."

She sat up a bit straighter, a more serious expression now taken to her features.

"That's not true, you know that."

I honestly didn't.

* * *

Aubree left a few hours later, after declining an offer to stay for dinner from my mother multiple times, saying she really needed to be getting home. Food didn't exactly appeal to me at the moment, so I stayed in my room, on my bed, simply thinking. Laying with my head towards the opposite end of the bed, my feet were propped up against my white, wooden headboard as my hair fell of the edge in messy waves. My eyes traced the swirls of paint graced along the edges of my headboard. Light, pastel colors which made up swirly flowers and tiny butterflies. Even after ten years, the clean, swift brush movements of my mother, and the messy, unstable strokes of my six year old self were still visible. I grinned at the memory of that happy day.

It was my sixth birthday and my parents surprised me with a brand-new bedroom set. I remember rushing up the stairs, my little feet struggling to take them two at a time, an when I burst through my door, I was greeted with all new furniture. My room had looked completely transformed.

Light pink curtains with small, pink beads threaded into the bottom hung from my bay-window, giving the room a soft, pink tint. A white rocking chair with a white and light pink speckled cushion sat in the corner, and despite my young age, I already invisioned the hours that would be spent reading in that very chair.

There was a new white bookshelf that, at the time, contained all my favorite children books. As I looked over, it now held various classic novels and romance-mystery books by all of my favorite authors. Every detail in that room, every single pink aspect absolutely thrilled me...except for the headboard. It was plain and white and empty and blank. My mother assured me that could be fixed.

One Sunday afternoon, my father had carried the headboard out to our screened-in porch and my mom came out in loose overalls over a sky blue t-shirt with her hair up in a messy bun. Her dark eyes shinned as she showed me the correct way to hold a brush. My mother, who had once wanted to major in art, who still sketched random works of art on whatever she could find, smiled to herself as she taught her one and only daughter about her passion; and shared with her something that had ways been important to her. And always would be.

It's just then I realized how much that day probably meant to her. She had always wanted me to pursue a career in the arts, urging me to express my self creatively. Although I found I had absolutely no talent when it came to a brush in my hand, I still expressed my self with a pencil and paper. Which she still supported.

As I layed there and let my eyes travel around my room, I saw how different it was now. The old rocking chair was gone, along with the pink, beaded curtains. Almost everything about my room had changed in some way or another, except my headboard. Even as a teenager, even as a soon to be junior, I had a headboard with hand-painted flowers and butterflies along the edges.

I couldn't part with it. How could I? It was something so personal, such a happy memory to me. But most importantly, it reminded me of the once-great relationship I once shared with my mother.

That relationship was almost non-existent now.

I sighed at the happy memories as my eyes traced the patterns around my feet, and wondered what else was to come. My childhood was over, and I had so many great memories from it. What memories would I make in the next few years that I would remember forever? That I would treasure just as much as I treasure that one afternoon with my mother.

Reliving memories from my childhood allowed me to forget all the drama of the 'almost kiss' and calmed down my thoughts. I was in a happy, trance-like state as I sat there smiling on my bed, alone. I allowed myself to remember the kiss. I mean, actually remember it and think about it, and push what happened after completely out of my head.

I realized that even after knowing those boys just over a month, I still felt strongly about them; felt a pull. I realized that after the summer, they'd be leaving to go back to wherever in Sydney they came from, and would probably forget me in a year or two, and I found myself realizing I didn't care. At least, not a lot.

I also realized that I wasn't going to let what happened this morning tarnish Luke and I's relationship.

I was going to do all I could to keep him my friend.

And just my friend.