SEBASTIAN
SEBASTIAN
"You've got to be kidding me!"
Brianna's glaring at me like it's Dobby that I've suggested we take to the cinema with us. And I expected this to be the least of my day's troubles. I take her hand, squeeze it, and start walking again. "Ash has been buzzed about this film for months, Bree."
We would be saddling up for a trek right about now had a threatening turn to the weather not scuppered us. Instead, we're clutching our hoods to our heads, moving against a brisk wind along Yoverton's practically deserted high street.
"It's weird. You do get that, right? Bringing your kid sister along on a date. Like, what were you thinking?"
"I'm not a kid," Ashleigh pipes up brightly at our backs. "And I'm also not his sister." She'd called me hoping for a lift home when her after-school track training got cancelled. We were already in town, so I asked her if she fancied coming along.
I dart a quick glance over my shoulder, slying her a tight smile. "Not as if we'll be alone in the cinema anyway, is it?"
"Not as if the two of you are a back-row kind of couple either." The gale whips at Ashleigh's retort.
Truth be told, Brianna and I haven't ever spent all that much time together alone, just the two of us. We tend to always have company, whether two-legged or four, and I genuinely thought nothing of Ashleigh's invitation tonight being an issue. Perhaps it is weird that I didn't.
Brianna's parents own the stables neighbouring our farm, and it's there we met three months ago when I moved my uncle's shire over to live out his well-earned early retirement from draught work. Firecracker and her mare, Cherry Blossom, became fast friends.
I found her somewhat intimidating at first, and it's possible a part of me still does. She's a beautiful girl, undeniably—brilliant, too. She's also just as heavily involved in her family's business as I am in my own, and that appreciation is the ground we worked from.
After the white-hot mess that was Derek, the low heat Brianna insists upon suits me fine, but it's not without its own drawbacks.
She's clearly sulking now, her hand going limp in mine as we cross the road to the bus stop, and I have no clue what to say to lift her out of it. Unsurprisingly, "we don't have to sit with her" does nothing.
Except prompt Ashleigh to slap the back of my head. "Harsh!"
And, "I wouldn't have invited her riding with us" is received with only a weighty sigh. We'd both rather be on horseback. Our understanding of each other seems far less complicated that way.
A soothing count to ten starts up in my head as we step up onto the curb at the bus stop and face the next obstacle that has been sent to vex me.
It isn't that I mind using public transport, but the need to is becoming ever more frequent lately. For the fifth time in four months, my rusting heap of junk conked out this afternoon. After an infuriating couple of hours with my hands stuck into the engine, running through all the usual fixes, all I managed to achieve was an ugly gash across my palm.
Brianna and Ashleigh take seats on opposite ends of the bench, both taking out their phones. I feign a deep study of the timetable displayed on the shelter wall between their heads. "Next one's due in ten minutes." It's an unnecessary statement that we're already aware of, and I'm ignored.
The clouds are rapidly becoming sinister-looking, and the wind's bite is vicious. It could be a mere handful of moments before the sky unleashes, and we're afforded little protection here.
I'm pretty sure today has moved far past the point when quits should have been called. And I'm about to do just that when Brianna looks up from her screen and rolls her sea-green eyes at me.
"Relax, Sebastian, it's fine. Buses are a more eco-friendly way to travel, and we won't have to faff around with parking. Like I'm going to have a problem with that?"
Her tone may still hold an edge, but the words spark a little comforting warmth in my chest. Unlike me, she doesn't overthink every least slight, and that simply, I'm reminded of those subtle qualities I've come to most admire in her. She has this unwavering confidence in herself and a mindful optimism, open to the broader scope of things. She never makes me feel like my material shortcomings are any measure of my value.
I perch down on the narrow bench and draw her in close to share body heat. She takes my hand, brushing her thumb lightly over my bandaged wound. Pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, I’m rewarded with the first genuine smile I've seen from her today. A whisper of hope teases me, but it’s quashed in the next instant.
"Oh, so magnanimous of you!" Ashleigh flippantly slams me back to my mental count. "Thanks, Bree."