Chapter 3 #2
There’s me, Holly, and Fi out in the forest. We’d climbed so high up one of the trees, Paddy and his friends had to help us down.
Then there’s my eleventh birthday. My entire class was invited to a McDonald’s party.
At the end, we all had to make a wish over the wishing well at the back of the restaurant.
My eyes hone in on the image, remembering my wish like it was yesterday.
“You remember what you wished for, don’t you?” Holly smarts.
I cross my arms across my middle. “You clearly do.”
She smiles at me before clearing her throat. “I, Morgan Brooks, wish that one day I become famous and have a really big house. And then when I do, I will give half of all my assets to Holly Danford.”
I nudge her playfully before staring at the image of Holly with her arms wrapped around me.
Her dark blonde hair is still the same as it is today, and, standing at the same height, I’m hugging her back, our cheeks pressing together.
Fi is bent down in front of us, pulling a stupid face.
“Wrong,” I laugh, noticing my goofy teeth.
“Sorry, that was my wish. Let me try again.” She dramatically clears her throat once more. “I, Morgan Brooks, wish that when I am older, I get to write books and find love.”
I laugh again. This time, it quickly fades. “Guess the wishing well was broken.”
Holly looks at me with her arms casually crossed across her middle. “That depends on whether you still want those things, Morgan.”
Pulling at another picture, I hold it in both hands, my eyes prickling. “My dreams haven’t changed,” I tell her.
She doesn’t say anything, but I hear her thoughts.
Eventually, I let loose a breath. “Really, I just want to be happy. I want to write, sure. But more than anything, I want to feel happiness in a way that we used to.”
“I know what you mean,” she replies, moving closer to me.
“What do you think happened?”
Her tongue presses into her cheek. “I think somewhere, we got a little lost along the way. Doesn’t mean our wishes won’t come true, just means we have to work a little bit harder to get them.”
My gaze sweeps across the picture in my grip. “Do you remember this day?”
Holly looks down, laughing as she inspects it closely. “We followed them, didn’t we?”
“And they chased us once they found out.”
We both fall into a comfortable fit of reminiscent laughs.
“Ruined my brand-new trainers getting them wet. I’m surprised it came out this good, all things considered.” When I don’t say anything, Holly steps closer to me. “I think it came out so good because of who is in it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not messing around. I mean it. Look at how he was looking at you.”
“Us,” I try to correct her, but she instantly cuts me short.
“I’m surprised he didn’t catch up.” Holly double takes. “No offence,” she then adds. “I mean, they could have easily out run us—three football players built like they were.”
“Maybe they felt sorry for us. A group of giggling girls, spying on them.”
“Maybe,” Holly agrees half-heartedly. “Or maybe, there’s more to it.”
I scoff. “That makes things weird. We were what, ten when this was taken? He would have been thirteen.”
“Okay, that does sound weird. But that was then.”
I abruptly flash her a look. “What are you getting at?”
She pauses. “Don’t think me and Fi didn’t see that way you looked at him.”
“The way I looked at him?” I can’t believe we're talking about this.
She tilts her head. “The same way you’re looking at the picture now.”
I steal my gaze away from the picture and the handsome way Paddy’s hair always fell on his face. I always wanted to brush it away, if only so that I could touch him.
“Pictures don’t lie, Morgs.” Looking down at my hands, Holly lets out a soft laugh. “You were happiest in these moments, when he was there. When we were all there.”
For some stupid reason, my eyes sting.
“Promise me something?” she whispers.
I nod.
“If there’s some sort of sign that you should attempt to talk to him while he’s home, promise me you’ll take it?”
The idea of getting the old me back tugs heavily.
Okay, so she was just a kid in this photo, but if I could go back and speak to her, I’d tell her to take the chances and make all the mistakes.
I’d tell her not to let fear hold her back because one day, she’ll be too scared to do anything, and it will all feel too late.
This goes beyond Paddy.
“I promise.”
Satisfied, Holly shakes her head. “Right, what about grabbing something for dessert? My head’s banging. I could do with something sweet before we start drinking again.”
I laugh, but I know she’s serious. “You’re insane.”
“Nah, I’m just young and should be enjoying myself.” She winks at me. “Come on, looks like we’re walking.”
An hour later, we’re sitting outside June Rogan’s small convenience store on the very edge of our village. They serve the best, worst coffee from a little machine, and the doughnuts are to die for.
Holly tips her head back to the stars appearing above us. “Yeah. This is totally normal for women our age.” She groans, wiping the white flour lining her lips. “Sitting on a brick wall, eating hangover food. Can’t beat it.”
“You’re the only one who’s hungover,” I point out before taking my last bite. “I’m just here for the custard filled ball of dough.”
Holly shudders. “Stop. Custard doesn’t belong in doughnuts. I don’t want to vomit tonight.”
“No more drinking then?”
Her head twists. “No more.”
I lick the tip of my thumb, pleasantly surprised by how a little sugar can change my mood. I’m still annoyed with Dad, but after a long walk, some food and Holly to keep me company, my life doesn’t seem all that bad as it did an hour ago.
“Come on.” I stand, chucking the empty box of doughnuts into the bin.
When Holly pushes to her feet, we link arms and begin our walk back to mine. The cool evening air gently brushes my face. I’m grateful to be heading back.
“What is that?”
I turn my head in Holly’s direction.
“Hear that?”
Apart from the sound of my own breathing, the beauty of living where we do is that there’s no traffic. It’s just silent.
“There.”
“I don’t hear anything.” I tug her arm to keep us walking at the exact moment I forget how to move.
The world’s most adorable puppy tries to climb my leg. “Oh my God.” I immediately let go of Holly and bend towards it.
“Must be lost.”
The little chocolate Labrador whines and squeaks for one of us to pick him up.
“Okay, okay,” I soothe, allowing him to climb into my arms. When I stand, I notice he’s freezing, his little body shivering.
“Hang on,” I say on a laugh. He pushes up towards my face, making me arch my head back.
I can’t stop the smile that breaks on my face. “He’s so small.”
Holly lifts her hand. “Is there an address on that?” She points at the collar.
I inspect it closely. “It says Stock Lane.”
“Fi’s road,” Holly points out.
That’s back towards mine. “Come on, we can take him.”
Wrapping him in my jacket, I feel him warm up as we walk much quicker than we did to get here. “He’s not shivering anymore,” I say when we make it to the top of the lane twenty minutes later.
“Which cottage is it do you reckon?” Holly asks.
It’s only when we’re halfway down the track that I’m guessing Holly puts two and two together at the exact same time as me.
“Oh, shit.”
I refuse to look at her, because I can’t. My eyes are fixed on Fi’s house. The one with all the lights on. The one with the white BMW parked on the gravel path outside.
Please, God, no.
Plenty of folks around here drive flashy cars, but I know this one is from out of town. Nobody in their right mind would drive a white car where we live.
It’s City Boy’s.
The closer we step towards it, the mud splattered up the side becomes visible. I swiftly open my jacket enough to remove the puppy, who I could feel snoring against me. “Here.” I hold him out to Holly.
A frown furrows her brows. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Take him.”
“No.” She steps back quickly.
“Take him,” I urge with a little too much force. The puppy’s legs dangle where I’m holding him out to her. “Hurry up.”
This time, she laughs. “Uh, no way. You found him. You deliver him.”
“No, you found him first, actually.”
“And he ran to you.”
I step closer to her. “Please, you do it,” I plead through gritted teeth, my arms beginning to ache. “I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t make me knock on their door.”
“Why are you making this such a big deal? Just go to the door, knock, and hand the man back his puppy.”
“It won’t be his, will it?”
We’re performing a little tango routine as she tries to outstep me. “Then I really don’t see the problem here. Anyway, you promised that if there was a sign to talk to him, you would take it.”
“Holly.”
“Morgan,” she says, mocking my serious tone. I swear she likes causing trouble whenever she can.
Turning to the picturesque country house, I sigh heavily, weighing up my options.
She says my name again, and when I swing back around seeing triumph brighten her face, I feel a blush brightening mine instantly. Warm tingles shoot across my skin. A flicker of recognition, a rush of heat to my core, and suddenly I feel like I’m tilting.
“Morgan?”
The air feels sharper.
My eyes dart to Paddy, who’s making his way down the lane.
With his friends.