In Memory (14 page)

“Noah… It was
me; me
and Terra anyway. We called the agency.”

He looked up at me, a ferocity burning in his eyes. “You? You called them?” Flames seemed to light behind his eyes as he stood up, looking angrily down at me, “You… my friend. You broke our promise.” His right
fist
slammed into the wall beside him, I think he’s bleeding from the force, “And my sister got hurt because of it!”

I looked
down;
I’ve never felt so ashamed. The way he yelled, it was like very emotion he was feeling was interwoven with his words, strangling them into some confused mixture of anger and disappointment.

“My sister does not deserve that. I won’t allow it
!!!”
he yelled, more at
the world than me, I think. C
ould feel his gaze on me again, and he continued, his voice softer. “This happened because you broke your promise.” He knelt down in front of me, I hadn’t moved. “You cannot reverse what you have done, even though I see you wish to.”

His hand fell on my shoulder, but I still couldn’t look up from where my eyes were drilling through the concrete.

“This wish cannot be realised, it would be wise to find an alternate solution you can make work within this reality. I understand your
motive,
it is a promise a true friend would break. I will forgive you for breaking your promise because you proved yourself to be my friend. Together, we will find some way to fix what has happened to my sister. This is what I’ve come to understand friendship encompasses.”

F
inally looked up at him, he stared intently back at me.

“We are friends, I will forgive you. Please help me find a solution. Together.”

“I’m so sorry…” I whispered, “The promise… can we make a new one? Please.”

“Promise me… that you will always make your decisions with the hope and goal of the best intentions. Regardless of the result, I will know your intentions, and will believe in you fully.”

“I promise.” I blinked and shook my head, “I absolutely promise. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you had only the best intentions. I am fully aware.” His grip on my shoulder increased, and he winced a bit.

I looked at his hand, realising that he had split the skin on the three of the four knuckles on his right hand. Blood was tracking out of them, running down his fingers and onto my shoulder.

“You’re hurt…” I said softly, touching his hand.

He looked surprised; he must not have noticed until I pointed it out. I held his hand in my own, and instinctively brought it to my lips.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling the drops of blood cool against my lips. “Forgive me, please…”

C
ould feel his gaze on
me, but didn’t dare look up. C
ouldn’t face the fire blazing in his eyes. It would burn me, and I couldn’t stand that pain.

“You are forgiven.” He said, and withdrew his hand.

He walked away. So did I, in the opposite direction.

I came home and went to my room.

129 Days, 21 October, Tuesday

Why is it that he has to suffer so much? I believe in karma, the equivalency of the universe and everything in it. Equivalent exchange, what goes around comes around, the threefold law. All these things explain the order of the world.

So why? What has he done to deserve all this pain? There must be a reason.

There has to be a reason.

F
ound him again, I’m always looking for him, and keep finding him broken and bleeding. It’s a cruel game of hide and
seek
where no one ever wins and I’m always It.

His favourite place now seems to be that alcove behind the library, as it is often unused, save for instances in which someone happens to be in the library during a fire drill.

At least the weather was nice today, so he wasn’t cold, but…

He was asleep when I found him, with his uniform jacket
wrapped tightly around him. W
oke him up gently, wary of any new injuries he might have.

His
shirt
was
unbuttoned four buttons down, showing a black bruise across his chest
. I helped him up, and supported him on the walk back here.

He was quiet, almost silent. I think he was concussed, actually, just from his lack of focus.

I let him go back to sleep; the only thing he said was, in a whisper, “Sleep…”

So I let him, and covered him with the same blankets we used just a few nights ago. I am fond of that
memory,
I keep replaying it in my mind as he’s sleeping.

It’s tainted now, the guilt of my broken promise eating away at the edges.

Apparently, I fell asleep in the armchair beside him, soaking up the heat from the radiator and the sun streaming through the window.

When I woke up, he was gone, and a note was on the coffee table.

Aerie,

I am sorry I left without waking you.

Thank you for saving me.

Our friendship is a beautiful thing.

-Noah

T
ook this to mean he has fully fo
rgiven me for what I’d done. S
till feel terrible about what happened, but also somewhat relieved that, even though I had betrayed his trust… we were still friends.

F
eel like he lifted a heavy weight from my chest. Maybe tomorrow, we’ll be back to normal.

128 Days, 22 October, Wednesday

Just as I had been hoping, we were relatively
back
to normal today. We had ou
r lunch together, I copied his M
ath work, and we did the questions for our Shakespeare assignment. Well, mostly he explained them and I wrote stuff down.

S
till felt a bit awkward around him, just remembering those flames burning in his gaze when he was angry. 

It was an all around good day for me, though, and I got to try out my new bike from Terra!

She brought the helmets home right after school today, and jammed one on my head while I was sitting on the couch unawares. It took some adjusting to get it on properly, and I foolishly left my hair outside the helmet. After riding to the grocery store and back, it was tangled beyond all reason, and took Terra nearly an hour to brush it all out again. Horrible.

127 Days, 23 October, Thursday

So it’s only a week until Halloween! I wonder what I should do this year! Since I’m eighteen now, I thought about going out, but then I’ll have to make a costume, and I have no idea what I’d be…

T
hink I’ll just stay in, maybe I can see if Noah want
s to stay over or something. C
ould make Halloween themed food and we could watch scary movies maybe.

Actually, seco
nd thought, no scary movies. D
on’t think he’s into that sort of thing. He’s even wary of knives when I’m cooking, let alone a freaky
slasher
flick.

He didn’t seem to mind my supernatural-themed show though, so we could watch reruns of that I guess.

126 Days, 24 October, Friday

I
ntensely happy to arrive at Friday this week.
It seems Noah always has permission to stay over on weekends for some reason. I’m guessing his father has business to attend to out of town or something.

So just a few minutes ago, after we had s
upper, I gave him a massage. H
ad been reading a book in the waiting room at the hospital yesterday on reflexology and stuff. So I wanted to try it out.

G
ot him to lie down on the sofa, with his s
hirt off (
thought about moving to my room and have him lie on my bed, but it seriously seemed way too intimate that way).

B
ought this peppermint massage muscle rub stuff yesterday, so I thought I’d try it on him. Maybe it’ll make him more relaxed.

As soon as my hands touched him, he flinched away.

“Cold…” he mumbled, readjusting himself on the sofa. “I wasn’t expecting that. Excuse me.”

I chuckled, resuming and quickly rubbing it in to warm it between our
skin
.

“Oh…” he began, blushing slightly, “That feels very… good.”

“I’m glad, is it helping the pain any?”

“Yes… Very relaxing…” he closed his eyes, “I’m just going to rest my eyes a moment.”

“Sure thing.” I smiled, continuing my gentle ministrations.

F
elt his emotions more clearly now than I had ever before,
as I rubbed his back
. It’s that same security I sensed the first time he came here, except the tin
y bit of fear is gone. I
t’s been replaced with… love? That sounds almost too cliché…

But that’s what it feels like, like happiness and comfort, and
well-
it’s love, how do I explain that?

Sort of poorly, apparently.
It’s not the sort of thing I’ve experienced enough to accurately describe.

I ventured up his back, working on his stiff shoulder muscles. (He’s also very bony). At this, he opened his eyes and grinned at me, the pink blush settling deeply into his face.

Even though it was sideways and somewhat obscured, his grin was adorable. Up until now, it’s always been the weird awkward closed-mouth smile.

I think this grin is his real smile. It made a flare of joy ignite in my chest, and so I reciprocated it happily.

He closed his eyes again, and nuzzled his face into the pillow beneath him, smiling happily.

I think it could be called a miracle to see him here like this. I remember, the serious look on his face, so impassive and neutral, with the deep penetrating sadness hiding in his eyes. I’d like to think I’ve helped to alleviate that intense sadness, and right now seems almost like proof.

The only thing I can feel coming from him is happiness. And that’s all I’m feeling right now too. Together, like this, we’re happy.

W
e might be in love with each other.

125 Days, 25 October, Saturday

So despite the nice evening, where I lulled Noah to sleep with peppermint massage cream, the night was certainly scary.

It felt like I had just fallen asleep when I heard it. A weird muffled noise, like a
voice yelling from far away. L
ifted my head to hear better, listening intently. It really did sound like screaming.

Briefly, I thought about rolling over and going back to sleep, but something in my mind demanded that I go investigate.

G
ot up, the sound becoming clearer when I opened the door. It was indistinctly someone screaming…

Noah.

R
an full pelt down the stairs, and around the corner to his bedroom. He was lying face down, pressing his face into the pillow and screaming into it with all the air in his lungs. It was like he was trying to suffocate himself.

I r
an to his bedside, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him up. His cries petered out, replaced by hiccupping sobs and deep breaths. I held him to myself, stroking his hair and whispering words of comfort.

A
t that point he
became more alert
. He broke down in silent tears, and clutched my shirt fiercely, burying his face in my chest.

He kept repeating those words…

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

R
ubbed small circles into his back, still stroking his hair with my other hand.

“Don’t apologise, I know it’s not your fault…” I whispered.

“But it is!” he insisted, looking up, his eyes unfocused and glassy. “You’re fading because of me! The whole lighthouse burned down! All the lamps were rusty and wouldn’t light, and all the matches I had were broken.”

I was silent, then realised he must still be asleep. He’d talked in his sleep before…

“How am I supposed to sail if I can’t see? It was easy to see with that lighthouse, but when it’s gone, it’s impossible. My ship will sink if I can’t see. It’s always night in this sea.”

“You could… just stop sailing when it’s gone?” I suggested. “Other seas have sunlight, try going there, okay?”

“That is reasonable.”

He went quiet then, and leaned on me more heavily.

Before meeting him, I had never really talked to someone in
their
sleep, but the experience was interesting.

C
ouldn’t help but think that there was something really significant in that conversation, but I’m not sure what it was.

When he was sleeping for a while, I laid him back down and went back up to my room. Presumably, Terra was either not home at that point, or she was ignoring it, knowing that I had it under control.