Twisted Summer (10 page)

Me: Will have to c if Mum can give me a lift early.

Esmé: ok, ok. Just don’t be too long. Might get started by myself otherwise
;)

I smiled faintly.

Me: aww, baby…u waited for me
?

Esmé: you know I don’t like doing that without you.

Me: no wonder ur so desperate, lol
.

A light blinked on my bed and then my phone began to ring. Oh God…Esmé could be a little smothering at times. Why had I never noticed it before?

And then I noticed the number flashing on the screen.

It was Gabe’s.

Esmé: I’m desperate when it comes to you

I shouldn’t answer it. We’d agreed. I knew I hadn’t left anything at the cabin because I’d unpacked everything I went with. Why was he doing this to me?

Esmé: so you there
?

My finger hovered over the green button. He’d call off in a second, if I could just hang on…ah…but that voice must sound
so
lovely over the phone…

Esmé: pixie
?
You there
?

Esmé: Danni
?

Esmé: so I guess you got your lift
Gonna go get ready
!!

Esmé: …

Esmé: ok, so where the frick are you? Why’s your phone engaged? Don’t tell me you’re back off to Devon again?

Esmé: Hey
!!

I hid in the corner of my bedroom, my heart simmering against my ribs like a ball of acid. I’d been on the phone so long that it was hot in my palm.

Esmé: I’m getting pissed now
.

Esmé: Danni
;(

“I know,” I murmured into the phone. The tears that pricked my eyes were made of glass, and as they fell, they were just like everything else was about to be: smashed, broken. A lot prettier in the sunlight. Kinder to people who like pain.

“I shouldn’t have played it so cold,” he whispered. “I don’t think this is where we end, Danni. Is it?”

I took a last glance at the laptop and closed the lid with a slow hand.

“No.” My voice cracked. “It isn’t.”

“
Tiny bodies, their cries never reach human ears

But they feel like we feel before they disappear

And my longing for her was a thing carved in dreams

She said, have you ever heard a butterfly scream?”

Dexter’s Noose

“So what do we do now?” I asked.

“
We write letters,” he said.
“Phoning like this is too tempting. Text is overkill. Email’s just plain dangerous. Danni, I don’t know how we’re going to work this out but until we do…I’ll write you letters.”

“What, like paper letters? Real ones?”

“Real ones. One every week.”

“
Aren’t t
hey, like…not very eco?”

“That’s true.” He paused. “But we have to be so careful. Letters, they aren’t as instant as everything else. They’re eco for desire.”

***

10
^th
July 2012

Danni,

So here it is. The first letter. I’ll be surprised if you can read my handwriting. I don’t write any better than I dance.

I thought it would be easier than this. Truth is I have fuck all to report…we only talked on the phone on Tues. Do you mind if I use bullet points? I like ‘em. There’s something very manly and fuss-free about bullet points.

1.
I have a friend, Jared, coming to stay this week. He’s just back from Hawaii and he’s got plant samples I’m way too excited about. Rock, and indeed, roll. We’ll probably drink a lot of beer and write terrible theories about spores. You sure this turns you on? Really?

2.
Totally slaughtered at pub quiz yesterday. As you would say: epic fail.

3.
There are two inches of 7Up left in the bottle, but I can’t bring myself to throw it out because they’re your inches. Which sounds kind of wrong, but there you go, madam.

4.
I miss you. I EPICALLY miss you. You and your pretty sundresses and your mocking little comments like you’re actually cleverer than me.

5.
A bit of me thinks that you are.

Your Gabe xxx

14
^th
July 2012

Dear Gabe,

Congratulations. This is like the third letter I’ve written in my entire life. Unless emails count, that is. Anyway, yeah. Congrats. You are seventy six per cent more awesome for receiving this.

I feel like I have to write something very interesting and funny. In fact this is my fourth go, and it’s just the intro. (Also, sorry for Hello Kitty notepaper. I don’t have anything else unless you think writing on kitchen towels is especially cool).

So I’ve had a weird week. I missed that meet up with
Esmé because of being on the phone with you, and she went mad at me. Sulked for three straight days. Is it awful I was kind of relieved? But then she randomly decided to forgive me if I came up with a good excuse, so I did because…well. How could I not? (I said my cousin Taylor had an emergency and I had to counsel him on girl stuff). Yeah. I feel weird about it. It’s not the same as being with you. I need to figure out how to tell her it’s over, that I don’t feel the way I should, but she’ll get so pissed and she’s kinda scary.

I know you can’t tell me what to do about that. Just…I don’t really have anyone else to tell. I never really thought about it and now I realize how much she’s encouraged me to freeze our friends out. Which sucks. You and me are friends, right? Before everything else.

Not that I don’t want everything else. I want it more than those two last inches of 7Up (just writing that makes me thirsty).

I filled in some uni paperwork for my accommodation. That’s pretty cool. I’ll find out where I’ll be living soon. Might join that hockey team.

I miss you too. More than epically. I don’t know what that is, but it would be huge. Huger than your ham rod. I know you’re doing that smug smirk thing now you read that, you tard. (I am totally on the pill, by the way. As opposed to just slightly on it, before you say).

We’re going out for cocktails now with some girls from my year. Mostly I’ll just wish I had pear cider instead.

Your Danni xxxx

P.S. Bullet points are kind of lame, but since you’re a bajillion mile
s away, I can’t really stop you. Just remember that when you write your next poxy ten-line letter :P

18
^th
July August 2012

My Danni,

Apologies for sending you another poxy letter, and without even waiting a week. Since I don’t quite measure up to your (HELLO, Kitty) letter-writing standards, I’ve decided to pretend to be some sort of perfect robot boyfriend for the rest of this one. Okay, darling? HAPPY? :P (What does that little P thing even mean?)

I strolled along the cliffs this morrow in the balmy midday sun, and I thought of our encounters out on the grass, on the rocks. The sweet and delicate music of your pleasure returned to my ears and I began to hum a symphony inspired by your cries of passion.
I scared five seagulls when I got to the good bit.
Fucking hell, I’m crap at this. Can I stop already?

Ham rod? I’m borrowing that for our pub quiz team. We’ll be the Amazing Adventures of Gabe’s Ham Rod for the rest of the summer.

Speaking of which…I’ve been thinking. About our weekend. I didn’t really think enough when you were here but I have to say this because it’s been playing on my mind. Even though you denied it at the time--I didn’t take advantage of you, did I? I know you’re a lot younger. I should have considered that. I should have used my fucking brain. If you feel like I did something wrong there, I’m sorry. I never meant it to be like that and now it’s bothering me. Jared left this morning and maybe it’s just strange being alone again…I dunno.

No bullet points this time, see? I’m one of those rare men who actually listens. (Or reads, as the case may be).

I’ve spent the past few nights in nasty hell without you, mostly wishing I was in nasty hell WITH you. I still have that 7Up. I’ll call your Mum soon and sort something out for in a few weeks, okay? I want you back here so badly, but we can’t look too eager. I miss owning moments with you. I don’t own them on my own; they’re just there.

Your Gabe xxx

P.S. No seagulls were injured in the making of this letter.

^22nd
July 2012

Dear perfect robot boyfriend,

I have to hand it to you—that wasn’t bad. I was even a teeny bit impressed. In return, I sprayed the big Kitty on the back of this paper with my perfume so you can sniff it and moon over me. That’s what perfect robot boyfriends do.