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Sixteen
BJ
Never saw it coming. Ever.
Wouldn’t have believed you even if you told me.
That morning I remember I was all in my head about a rugby game against Westminster.
Been training for it for weeks.
It was a Monday. I remember her standing there, a few metres away from me, just watching.
Eyes looked a bit funny. Tired, glassy.
“Hey.” I gave her a cautious smile as I pulled her into me.
Loved her in that school uniform. Little tartan skirt, knee-high socks, a buttoned shirt with a tie. Pretty much my every dream. Still love her in plaid.
I pressed my mouth against hers, tugged on her ponytail playfully. “You good?”
She forced a smile and I could tell something about her was off.
“Are you okay?” I asked, craning my neck down so we were eye to eye.
“Can we talk?” she said, barely more than a whisper.
“Yeah.” I frowned a bit. Felt a bit nervous, if I’m honest. Checked the time. “Now?”
“Can you?”
I wobbled my head around, thinking. “I just have that big history test this period.”
“Oh, I forgot—” She shook her head. Her cheeks went pink but her eyes looked teary.
“I can miss it?” I offered, trying to keep her eyes on mine.
Back in those days I could read her best if I could see her eyes. Don’t need them anymore. I can read her with both our eyes closed and my hands behind her back.
“No.” She shook her head fervently. “Definitely don’t miss it.”
“Okay?” I nodded, feeling confused. “Everything okay?”
“—Yes.”
The pause she did was the giveaway. She was lying.
We never lied to each other.
I took her hand in mine. “Walk me to class?”
She said nothing the whole time, just wore this tense little frown and bit down on her lip.
“You sure you’re okay?” I asked her when we got to my class.
Everything about her was weird, all of her was uneasy and I had the same urge then that I still have now: If something’s wrong with her, I’ve got to fix it.
“Yes,” she said mechanically.
