I was too young and inexperienced back then. How could I ever be able to understand anything about life, death or love? The memories of that summer return in fragments, flashes of pain as disjointed notes echoing in my memory.98Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTIi4m42Uzg
I don't remember who called us from Kent to give the terrible news. But I'll always remember Tyler's face, when my own voice finally faded to silence halfway through repeating whatever words had just reached my ears.
Even today I remember her eyes widening impossibly, the initial incredulity quickly fading into shock as she understood what I was telling her. Her hysterical cry, like a stab in my chest, echoing in my own ears.
The rest remains a haze. The feelings of that night. Me and Tyler huddled together in her bed, my own uncontrollable tears falling onto her neck as I cradled my girlfriend against my body. Her silent sobs as she tried to give strength to the both of us. Flying back to London the day after, just me and dad. His grim face, saying everything I refused to acknowledge at that point.
That Alexander was dead. That he no longer existed.
And that nothing, truly nothing would ever be the same again.
What I remember with agonizing clarity is being here in Kent after Alec's funeral. It was summer, and despite the lush vegetation of the season, the garden looked grey to my eyes, devoid of all life and sound. The entire estate breathed grief. As if every stone couldn't accept that Alec's was not just an absence, but a permanent erasure from life.
I remember sitting on the windowsill my fingers are touching now. The shutters were open, letting in a soft breeze, but nothing felt right.
I could feel it inside me. That feeling of loss. I felt lost, in ways I couldn't even explain, my own thoughts wandering restlessly in my mind. Yet whenever I tried to face reality again… all I came up with was this empty ache right in my chest, and a deep worry for my best friend, Eleanor, that scared the hell out of me.
Just six months earlier, we had spent Christmas together, yet she seemed like a stranger to me now. I had the terrible feeling that Alexander's death had broken her in ways that none of us could understand. She was trying her best to stay afloat and be strong, driven by some inherited sense of duty that seemed to run in the Cavendish family.
But I could see through her tired façade how exhausted she really was.
When she walked into the studio, that summer afternoon, the dark bags under her eyes told me on the spot that she was at her limit. Without thinking, I jumped off the windowsill and walked the distance that parted us.
If only I could have found a way to ease her pain, I was sure that everything would have been fine again.
Or so I hoped, as I muttered a soft "Hey" in her direction, suddenly afraid that anything too sharp or too loud could break her beyond repair.
My God.
How could someone look so frail, and yet stand as tight as she was?
"Eleanor?"
The sound of her name on my lips broke her reverie, and when her bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes finally focused on my face, warmth spread across her features, filling me with unbearable sadness at the sight. And with an immeasurable sense of relief just for having her there with me.
"Hey you," she breathed in response, and something in the way she said it - softer than usual, lingering on the words - tugged at my heartstrings.
A hint of levity. Of familiarity.
"I knew I'd find you here..."
I tilted my head as she came closer, her steps slower than necessary, her eyes never leaving mine, and guilt gnawed at my stomach. I had left her with our parents when lunchtime had ended, and we had been apart for a couple of hours since then.
Yet Eleanor looked more tired than ever. More resigned than she should have been.
It was in her eyes. A defeat that I had never thought possible in someone so passionate as she had always been.
"I was just..." I began, before my words died in my throat and I had to clear it a couple of times to start again. "I'm sorry I disappeared. I just couldn't handle being around our parents anymore. You know how my dad gets when he wants to. And your mom wasn't exactly helping. Plus, you had to meet those guys anyway, and I..."
"It's okay, Becks. I wasn't accusing you or anything. Everyone needs a break sometimes. And I didn't expect Alec's college friends to show up either. They had some pictures they wanted me to have. And… I don't know. They were so..."
"Nice?" I ended for her, because of course they were. I could perfectly imagine the scene even with closed eyes. "Let me guess: you didn't have the heart to just take the pictures and say goodbye, did you? I mean, too rude for a proper, English Lady. Did you offer them some tea?"
Eleanor snickered. Not openly, but with that half-smirk of hers that betrayed the barest hint of amusement cracking her armor. Her shoulders dropped slightly and she exhaled. A real exhale, not the shallow breathing she'd been doing. As if, for a split second, I'd helped her remember how to be lighter. How to be herself again.
"I wanted them to leave, I just didn't know how to ask," she conceded, holding her stance with admirable effort. "But I was pretty sure you were here, so when they left..." her words trailed off. "I'm not interrupting, am I? Were you talking to Tyler?"
"What? No... It should be around 11 a.m. at home. She won't be free before lunch."
"How is it going?"
"The MITES? Great. Really. Their program is fantastic. There are so many brilliant people there, it's like she's in heaven."
I remembered how excited Tyler had been when her application was accepted among so many other applicants. How beautiful she had looked with that genuine smile plastered on her dark-skinned face, bright and sparkling with hope.
Then Alec's death crushed our lives.
And while it was pragmatic, and I was the first to encourage my girlfriend not to quit her internship, her decision not to leave the program had hurt her deeper than she would ever let show.
"She sent flowers. Again," Eleanor said quietly. And what could I say?
Of course she had sent flowers. She would have sent an entire florist's shop to make up for her absence.
"She wanted to be here, Eleanor. With all her heart."
"I know. And it would have been stupid," our mutual friend shook her head, and I let the words hang. We both knew Tyler's presence wouldn't have changed anything. There was her future at stake, and it made no sense to abandon the MITES program just to grieve with us in Kent.
Yet it still hurt. For her not being here where she so desperately wanted to be. And for us, not having Ty by our side when the whole world outside our little bubble felt so terrifying. So fucking unsafe.
"I was able to talk to her through Skype. I mean, if either of us could understand a word of what the other was saying, with all that crying and the sobbing..." she went on, her eyes sweeping across the room as if in search of something, or as if trying to avoid mine.
When she looked back at me, a shiver ran down my spine and she didn't even have to open her mouth, for me to know that something was wrong.
Terribly so.
"Speaking of talking, would you mind if I stole your attention for a second?" Her voice dropped to something almost intimate, her stare unexpectedly too raw and serious for someone just eighteen. She took a small step closer, close enough that I could see the tiny cracks around the corners of her eyes.
When I looked into them, my breath stopped in my throat because of the gravity I found on those dark pools of green. She was clearly dealing with something stressful, and I thought that whatever was tormenting her so badly, must surely have something to do with Alexander.
I shook my head and tried to come up with the best smile I could give her, and that felt fake even to me.
"Sure. I'm all ears. Would you like to sit somewhere in the gardens? Reach the old well? Maybe some air will make us feel..."
Better again. Normal.
The word died on my lips. There was no way back to normal, and I hated it. I hated seeing such a pained look in my best friend's eyes, as she tilted her head back towards the windowsill where I had been sitting just moments ago.
But it wasn't just pain, was it?
There was something else in the way she was frowning now. Something intense that frightened me more than I expected. She had the same look of last Christmas, right before telling her parents she wanted to study in Italy instead of UK, or when she'd decided to drop etiquette classes despite Lady Margaret's protests.
What if she's planning something reckless? Again?
Oh shit!
"God Eleanor, I'm sorry," I hastened to say, secretly cursing myself when I noticed the urgency with which she wanted to speak. "There's no need to go anywhere else; just talk to me. I'm here for you."
She took a deep breath, and when she finally moved her gaze to meet mine once again, my mind spiraled into catastrophic scenarios where she went in full Sherlock Holmes mode on the circumstances of Alec's death. Because she was that kind of person who would try to do something foolish and brave, just because she couldn't accept that her brother had died out of the blue.
"I'm sorry," I tried again. "You must think I'm the worst friend ever. I feel like the worst friend ever. You needed to talk, and I… Can we try again?"
But Eleanor tilted her head once again. "Friends, you say, mh? And we've been for so long, haven't we?"
I frowned, not knowing what else to say, and nodded, hoping she could open up with me. Instead, something changed in those green eyes of hers. They lit up all at once, like she'd just taken a sudden decision. Or changed her plans mid-track. And she moved a step back, to put some distance between us.
"You know what? Forget about everything. Come on, let's take that walk. There's this sweet..."
"Wait!" I didn't let her finish. My body moved before my mind could catch up, my hand grabbing her wrist before Eleanor could turn to leave the studio. The contact sent an unexpected jolt through me, and I noticed how Eleanor's breath hitched on the spot, how she didn't pull away even though I was probably holding her too tightly.
But I couldn't let go. I knew if I let her walk away, whatever she wanted to tell me would stay locked forever. And I couldn't stand that thought.
"Fuck, I'm sorry," I stammered, my fingers moving down until they reached her palm. She was trembling, or maybe it was me who was shaking. Either way, when our palms pressed together, something electric passed between us.
"You needed to talk and I… I just blurted out stupid things instead of listening to you. I'm sorry, I promise. It's just that... you're kind of scaring me."
"Am I?"
"Yes, you are. I mean, you're not considering doing something stupid, are you?"
She frowned again, in confusion this time, and I felt completely lost.
"Just tell me you're not. Tell me you're not going to leave Kent and your studies and everything else, just because you can't believe..."
"That Alec was driving drunk when he died?" She finished for me, and I swallowed hard at the pain in her words.
"Is this what you think?"
"I don't know what to think. But I know how you are. Reckless, and brave, and honest. So don't look at me like this, because I have all the reasons to be scared. I can't lose you too..."
Eleanor took a deep breath and seemed to ponder my words. In the end, she gave me the softest of nods.
"You're wrong. I mean, I still feel something doesn't add up, about my brother's death. And I can't believe his car has been burned to ashes, like something out of an American cheap B-movie. But that doesn't mean I'm about to jump on a plane to Vienna to investigate the circumstances of his death. I promise."
"Oh," I sighed in relief, feeling suddenly very stupid. "Did I jump to the wrong conclusion?"
The question was enough to make Eleanor smile again, a forced smile that never reached her eyes, like a minor chord pretending to be major. But that was something nonetheless.
"Let's say you did. And surely this is not the reason you might lose me," she said, before adding: "How could you think such a thing?"
"How? I know how you are, that's how. Don't blame me, if I worry about you."
"I don't. It's just that, for a moment..."
"For a moment?" I prompted when she faltered.
We were again on unknown territory and if she didn't want to confess some heroic plan regarding Alec's death, I had no clue what else she wanted to talk about.
"Come on, you are making me nervous."
"It's just that… For a moment, I thought... that you knew. That you had guessed what I wanted to talk about. But I've realized," she stopped, taking a moment to find a new resolution, "I've realized that you don't. And you know what? It's fine. It wasn't important anyway."
"The hell it wasn't," I whispered, and her fingers clenched around mine at the sudden curse. It made me realize I was still holding her hands. And that it was impossible, for me, to let go of her.
"What I mean is that you're not the only one who is scared of losing her best friends... losing this," she corrected herself, squeezing my fingers.
Her eyes were two shards of emerald, roaming my face now as if she wanted to memorize every detail, her thumb unconsciously tracing circles on the back of my hand. The intensity of her gaze made my heart pick up speed, my own heartbeat drumming deafeningly in my ears. Because Eleanor was suddenly looking at me in ways I'd never seen before.
Not from her, anyway.
"Oh, Avery... You really don't get it, do you?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper, her words teasing me in ways I hadn't expected. She had stepped closer and I could feel the warmth of her breath on my cheek.
"I don't..." I tried to say. "I'm sorry, but I really don't get it. And you're not making it easy for me to..."
I never finished that sentence.
One moment Eleanor was there, standing in front of me, her green eyes filled with something I couldn't name, but soft and desperate and terrifyingly vulnerable.
The next she moved.
She freed her fingers and reached for my face, her hands trembling as she cupped my cheeks. Not with hesitation but with anticipation.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, so quietly I barely heard her.98Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7S6mNrrlbj
And I knew on the spot, with terrifying clarity, that she was going to kiss me, and I didn't know what to do.
My pulse raced as everything shifted. And before I could even understand if I wanted it or not, she leaned in and kissed me.
Softly. Gently even, her lips warm against mine, but hesitant too. She tasted like cinnamon and oranges and for some unknown reason, that thought stole the breath from my lungs.
Eleanor Cavendish was kissing me. She was really kissing me.
Time stopped. It lost every meaning and I found myself completely detached from the moment, floating into a now-and-here that seemed to stretch forever. And yet, Eleanor's kiss lasted just a few seconds. A few seconds that changed everything.
There was now a "before Eleanor kissed me" and an after.
When she pulled back enough for me to see her eyes, words failed me. Badly.
"Oh shit..."
"Oh shit, indeed," she whispered back.
Our foreheads touched, and new shivers ran down my spine.
How could I have missed this? How could I possibly not have realized it before?98Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiqXoO2xDfB
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