Humber Bridge
HUMBER brIDGE
Then
They had agreed to meet by the entrance of the Country Park. It was the first time Shirin and Kian had hung out during a weekend. She’d told him that her dad had gone to Iran without her mum so it would be easier for them to meet outside of school.
Locals went to the country park to walk their dogs. Kian used to have picnics on the table benches there when family from Iran came to visit. His mum would pack egg-mayonnaise sandwiches and salad olivieh with tough, delicious Iranian bread. It was Hull’s most picturesque area. If you looked at the bridge in a certain light you might have thought you were in San Francisco. Emphasis on might . Now Kian went with his friends and willed time to speed on as they rode their bikes through the woody marshes, and ended their trip watching the sunset while throwing pebbles across the river. The water was gray and dirty-looking most of the time because the sky was gray most of the time. Sometimes they saw people wading into the water, their trousers rolled up, mudlarking, and they would come out with random objects like a quarter of a teacup, a look of absolute triumph on their faces. His friends from Foxview, Koyer and Teddy, would make fun of them, say it was sad, and Kian would laugh along but not really mean it. If it made them happy, what did it really matter?
Today, the sky was a baby blue, the air crisp. As Shirin walked toward him, he realized he had never seen her in clothes other than her school uniform. She was wearing black leggings with ankle boots, an oversize cream jumper, and the same puffer jacket she wore to school. He noticed her eyelids were lighter, glistening with glitter. It made her eyes look bigger, and he thought that if she wore makeup at school she would definitely get more attention from boys.
He shoved both his hands into his pockets, straining the fabric as he pushed inward. “What time do you call this?” he said, his tone light compared to his heavy heart.
A glimmer of a smile traced her eyes and lips, but as she drew near, he could see a hollowness within her. He had never seen her look so deflated. It took him aback. “Well, it was a trek to get here,” she said in a wry tone.
Together, they made their way up the stairs to the country park, which Kian had long ago counted to be 105 steps exactly. Halfway up he could hear Shirin muttering something like Jesus Christ . He stifled a laugh, which he was sure she heard because she turned to give him daggers, which only made it harder not to laugh out loud.
Once up the steps, they walked along the woodland bank. Trees lined each side, the floor stuck with dried mud, broken tree trunks, and fallen branches. An older man was walking a dog ahead of them. The dog was carrying a large branch, almost bigger than the animal itself, and the owner was trying to wrestle it out of its mouth. Shirin and Kian walked around this tug-of-war. He gave Shirin a quick glance and saw she was trying not to laugh, the heaviness in her expression lightened somewhat. But he knew something was up. He knew her now, could sense when something wasn’t right with her.
“Is everything okay with you?” he asked.
“Did you not hear or are you pretending not to know?” she said, not looking him in the eye.
He frowned at this. “What?”
She revealed what Rob had told everyone, though because Kian was on the outskirts of the groups at North Oak he hadn’t heard the rumors that were being spread. When she spoke he noticed her eyes fill, ever so slightly, with each word, each sentence. She was trying to hold it together, and he wanted her to know she didn’t have to do that around him. Unadulterated anger swirled within him, rendering him momentarily speechless when she had finished.
He swore under his breath before taking hold of her hand. She seemed surprised by this but didn’t pull away. He was surprised by his instinct to hold her too, but squeezed her hand. It was soft within his, small and warm. “He’s a worthless prick. I’m sorry, Shirin.”
She looked at him briefly and looked away toward the bridge, a lone tear trickling down her face, which she speedily wiped away.
“I’ll talk to him,” Kian said, his voice strong.
She turned back to him, mouth ajar before she snapped it shut. “No, you won’t,” she said. “It’s dying down. I don’t want to make it worse.”
“But Rob can’t just go around lying about you because you weren’t interested in him—that’s fucked-up.”
“I know, but we’ve only got six months left of school and I just want it to go by as painlessly as possible,” she said. They were nearing the river now. The stood before them; the sky a striking blue behind it, the river mirroring the blue so that it looked refreshing, as though to set foot in the river would be an enjoyable experience, rather than absolutely rank. “I’m glad you see that it’s messed up though. Phoebe keeps telling me I should see the funny side.”
“What?” He hadn’t had many interactions with Phoebe. From what he’d seen of her, she’d seemed like a rational, sane human being, but now he questioned his initial assessment.
Shirin shrugged and let out a deep sigh. “I think people feel I’m someone to be laughed at and not taken seriously, you know?”
“I don’t think that,” he said.
“I know,” she said after some thought. She let out a small smile, though her eyes were still sad. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”
When they were close to the river, Kian bent to collect a selection of pebbles, which he kept in his left hand. With his right hand he threw them, one by one, into the river, watching how many times he could make them bounce on the surface of the water. His personal best was four, though it had been months since he’d last done it.
Shirin sat on the ground and gazed up at the sky. “You’ve had a lot going on yourself, I can tell,” she said.
He turned briefly and said, “You can?” He then threw a pebble. It bounced twice over the water at an impressive distance.
Truth be told, Kian had been spiraling. Sometimes it was okay and he could handle the guilt about his brother going to prison, he could pretend he was fine. But it came in waves. Mehdi’s birthday had just passed. They’d visited him that week and had bought him way too many chocolate bars from the vending machine. Everyone had been teary-eyed, trying to pretend this was normal, that this was not devastating and depressing. It was probably the reason Kian hadn’t noticed the rumors going around about Shirin. Guilt about his brother encircled him and he wanted so badly to tell the only person he thought might get it, but it was fear that was holding him back. He liked Shirin so much; he didn’t ever want her not to like him back, to think badly of him, to think the same things he thought about himself.
“Even from the way you’re standing, I can tell something is up,” she said. He could hear her approaching, the pebbles knocking against each other as she made her way to his side. She reached out and took one of the pebbles from his open hand, and in the process her fingers brushed against his wrist. It was such a normal, simple touch, and yet he felt his heart pounding in response.
She didn’t throw the pebble but balanced it in her palm reflectively. “It’s about your brother?” she asked. He hesitated, and she noticed this. As though reading his mind she said, “I’d never judge you. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“Do you mean that?” He wasn’t convinced.
“I promise. And I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” She looked so serious it was clear she wasn’t going to let it go. Maybe it would be freeing, he thought, to just say what he was feeling for a change. Maybe he needed to trust that she really wouldn’t judge him.
He let out a sigh, which he’d intended to be small, but it came out loud and dramatic. “Fine,” he said, looking off into the distance to avoid her eyes. It was easier to say the words if he couldn’t see her reaction. “I feel guilty.” It was the first time he had said the words aloud. She didn’t say anything, merely gave him a look, an invitation to continue. “That he’s locked up while the rest of us are living life.” His throat caught. He cleared it quietly and wanted to crawl into a hole. He thought Shirin would look at him differently, but in her eyes he saw that she understood, even if she didn’t, not really. He hadn’t told her the full extent of why he felt guilty, and he still couldn’t, but he had shared a bit of himself with her and it was liberating.
“Your brother made a choice,” she said. “You can’t beat yourself up for what other people do.”
He wasn’t sure what he thought about that. It was true that his brother had chosen to intervene, but Kian couldn’t help but think he hadn’t been strong enough to handle the situation himself. If he had been, he wouldn’t have taken it as far as Mehdi and no one would be in prison now.
“I just keep thinking how unfair it is—he didn’t even start the fight. It feels like to live here you have to be on the defensive to survive, but even if you are you’ll get in trouble for it. What’s even the point?”
“I know what you mean,” Shirin said softly. “It’s so shit, I’m sorry.”
He mumbled, “It’s okay,” even though it wasn’t, and turned to face her. They were close to each other, so close that he felt if he shut his eyes he would still be able to feel her presence. He tested this theory and he was right. He could feel her drawing closer and her hand slowly make its way onto his shoulder.
“I care about you, you know,” Shirin was saying, but he could barely hear her. “I feel like I’ve known you ages.” He knew he fancied her, of course he did. He valued her friendship, but more and more lately he imagined her lips on his. She had given no indication that she felt the same way, and he was about to tell himself to get a fucking grip, when he opened his eyes and saw a look in hers that made him think she was thinking the same thing.
“I’ve never felt like I could be myself with anyone before, until I met you,” he said, his voice lowered to an almost-whisper.
Her lips turned up. “I feel the same,” she said in a quiet voice.
He noticed her eyes flicker down, he thought, to his own lips. Unthinkingly, he bit his bottom lip, an annoying habit. She looked away at this, and he could have sworn the tops of her cheeks had gotten a little pink. The air between them was so still, he was scared to even breathe, thinking it could ruin everything. He had imagined this moment so many times, and it was so close. All he had to do was lean and kiss her.
He took a deep breath and leaned forward, thinking it was about to happen, but she wasn’t looking at him, and turned away. She looked out onto the murky water and said, “I’m glad you’re one of my best friends.”
The moment passed, and her words were both touching and a reminder that that was all they were, friends .
The pebbles trickled from his hand, clattering to the ground one after the other, as they gazed out onto the water.