Chapter 28
SUNDAY
When I wake up, I’m acutely aware of two things.
The first is how deeply exhausted my body is. My legs feel heavy and pained from the amount of activity they’ve endured over the last few days. I feel like I can hear them shouting up at me: Witch! You have betrayed us!
The second thing is how close Elliot’s body is to mine, which is infinitely more alarming. Both of us are lying on our sides, his frame tucked perfectly behind mine, with what feels like his head resting against the nape of my neck. I can even feel his gentle breathing against my hair.
This is not normal.
The second I’m aware of my circumstances, my body turns to stone. I take shallow breaths in the attempt to remain as still as possible. As pathetic as it sounds, I don’t want to break the spell that’s apparently been cast over his body and lose the feel of him.
I’m assuming that some kind of survival or biological instinct kicked in during the night and, as a result, he drifted towards me for warmth.
And then, inexplicably, tucked his body neatly next to mine.
I hate how my heart flutters as I notice what a perfect fit our bodies are.
Something about lying next to him feels like it makes sense: like inserting the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle into place.
A couple of campers near us start to mutter quietly amongst themselves, and I wonder if I’ve woken up earlier than usual, but I don’t dare move to check the time.
At some point Elliot will, in fact, wake up. I wonder if I should gently shimmy away from him to spare him the humiliation of waking up in this position?
Unless he meant to be in this position?
Unlikely. I brace myself for Elliot’s reaction and inevitable rush to get as far away from me as possible when he’s no longer unconscious.
As if I somehow willed it, Elliot starts to stir. I hear a quiet intake of breath next to my ear as his entire frame freezes, and I’m certain I’ve never been so aware of my own breath in my entire life.
I feel Elliot quickly shift his head, followed by his body, completely away from me. Just as I suspected. Cool air replaces the area where his body had just been and my skin briefly mourns his warmth.
It’s much easier to brush off his reaction this time. If I’m being totally honest with myself? I really just want our last day at Firecrest together to be as relaxed and fun as possible. As much fun as two people who have been forcibly stuck together can conceivably have, anyway.
The air inside the tent this morning is far cooler than yesterday, to my relief. I decide to take advantage of it by closing my eyes and letting my body rest for as long as it can. It would be utter bliss if I wasn’t so aware of the man lying stiffly behind me.
Eventually, I hear rustling next to me and see Elliot sit upright in the corner of my eye, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms.
I pop up next to him with a chirpy, ‘Morning!’
He just about jumps out of his skin, and I watch his wide eyes rake over me in my cheery state.
‘Morning,’ he replies, still ruffled. He seems to be avoiding eye contact with me. And similarly to yesterday morning, he doesn’t look like he’s feeling very chatty.
‘Bathroom,’ I report, thinking it might be best to give him some space. Without another word, I hop up to exit the tent with my wash bag in hand.
When I step out, I’m overjoyed to see an endless blanket of thick, grey clouds over the festival, giving us a much-needed respite from the heat. Soft murmurs from our fellow campers start to increase around me as they start to prepare themselves for the day.
I relish the feeling of the cool breeze on my legs as I turn my attention to Hennie’s tent. I bend to zip open the door and poke my head inside, pleased to take in the sight of a sleeping Hennie. With her safe return confirmed, I quietly zip her tent closed again.
Making my way over to the toilets, I check my watch to see that it’s just after ten. I mentally curse, knowing that this is peak time for toilets and showers. Nevertheless I continue on my way, trying to not think about the man still in my tent.
Feeling ten times more human, I stomp back to my tent. The queue for the showers had, indeed, been long. But I feel all the better for it.
When I finally reach my tent and step inside, it’s empty. My stomach drops. The only sign that Elliot had ever even been here in the first place is the jumper I loaned him sitting neatly folded on my mat.
I stagger over to my backpack and plunge my hands into it, my heart beating erratically until my hand brushes over the cool wood, and something like guilt wraps around my insides for my immediate reaction.
I shove it back inside with a sigh and throw myself back onto my mat to tackle my hair, attempting to tame the frizz that will inevitably come as my hair dries.
Hennie’s tiara is then placed proudly back on my head – which does a great job at hiding some of it.
I must thank her again for letting me steal it.
My mind skips back to Elliot. Where has he gone? Did he head back to his tent or has he officially backed out of the deal? It’s unlike him to just vanish. The sudden disappearance makes me feel uneasy.
I snap open my mirror with a frustrated sigh.
The sun over the last few days has taken effect already: my entire face has exploded with fresh freckles.
They typically linger around my nose and cheeks, but now they’ve expanded to the edges of my lips and up to the top of my forehead.
I dust some powder over my face to reduce some of its shine, throw on some mascara and call it a day.
My phone buzzes several times and messages start to pile on top of each other as they all come through at once. One from Hennie at two o’clock enthusing about Firecrest and that we need to come again next year, one from my Mum checking in, and the most recent from an unknown number.
My pulse leaps when I tap it and clock the familiar face in the profile photo.
Hey, it’s Elliot. Grabbed your number from the group chat, hope you don’t mind. I would’ve left a note to avoid panicking you but no paper or pen in sight. Queuing for a shower, meet back at yours at 11?
My eyebrows shoot up at the message. Why the sudden flexibility?
It makes me wonder why on earth he didn’t just sleep in his own tent in the first place if we’re meeting here in an hour.
Is our agreement now so relaxed that this didn’t even warrant discussing?
He never fails to baffle me. I waste no time and type out a brief response.
Thought you might have needed some quality time with the enormo-tent
Sure, see you then
His reply is almost immediate:
True
I’ll bring the boys, they’re riding out their hangovers but they’re both feeling very sorry for themselves this morning
As always, I have no energy or will to choose what to wear and decide that now is my perfect opportunity to wake up Hennie.
I hobble from my tent to hers and zip open her door to find her still sleeping, her arms thrown up behind her head and tangled in her long hair. Pushing my guilt aside, I tap her foot lightly.
‘Good morning! I am your alarm!’ I call out, trying not to laugh at the sight of her shooting me a scowl the second her eyes open.
‘Hello, friend,’ I say cheerily, crawling next to her to plop myself down so we’re lying eye to eye.
She yawns and taps my head fondly.
‘Good morning.’ Her voice is husky and deep from sleep, and probably the late night. ‘Hang on. You’re alone! Unattached!’
‘Yeah, I get a break,’ I report.
‘Ah.’ She nods knowingly. ‘Do you miss him terribly?’
‘Shush. Did you have a good night?’ I ask.
She smiles and closes her eyes again, nodding. ‘Very good. I love it here.’
‘What time did you get back?’
‘About three-ish,’ she replies with a yawn. I admire her stamina.
‘Good work.’
‘How was your night?’ she asks, eyes flying back open.
I shrug. ‘Oh, you know. Fine.’
She waits, then prods my arm with a finger. ‘More details, please.’
‘We found another clue, but it led to a dead end pretty much immediately.’
‘Bummer. Don’t worry babe, we’ll work it out together.’ She then shoots me a terrifying grin. ‘And how was your night with Elliot?’
‘Uh, uneventful.’
‘You lie.’ She narrows her eyes. ‘You always stare at my eyebrows when you lie.’
‘I stare at your eyebrows because they’re phenomenal, Henrietta.’
‘Shut up.’ She gives me a loving swat. ‘Tell me, now.’
‘Alright,’ I start. ‘Okay, well. Actually, something weird did happen, one might say. Not like, sensationally weird. Well, I don’t know, it was – it’s not a big deal or anything–’
She looks alarmed. ‘What is it?’
‘Like I said, it isn’t a big deal. Possibly a brain malfunction. But we – um, we sort of kissed? Like, on the mouth? But–’
‘What?’ She’s up in a flash. ‘You kissed? Oh my God, I knew it–’
I sit up as well, shaking my head frantically. ‘No, no, Hen. It’s not like that. I think he was drunk or something but he clearly regretted it immediately. He pulled away and said that he shouldn’t have done it,’ I say, hurt creeping back into my voice.
She sits back, brows pinched together in confusion. ‘That’s bizarre. Maybe he was being gentlemanly and didn’t want your first kiss to be a drunken moment or something–’
‘I can’t emphasise enough how quickly he wanted to get away from me, Hennie. I should have seen it coming, really.’ I rub my eyes, trying to push away the mental image of his mouth on mine.
Hennie hums. ‘Well, who knows what the fuck is going on in that brain of his? He’s kind of a closed book.’
I avoid her eyes, recalling last night in my tent. His hands over his face as he told me everything.
‘Can I be frank?’ she asks.
‘When are you not?’
She shoots me a look. ‘He’s obviously obsessed with you.’
I shout with laughter. ‘Please. On what fucking planet?’
‘The planet that he kissed you on?’ she says, as if it’s obvious.
‘Yes, the same one where he said he “shouldn’t have”.’