The Fragile Ordinary Page 24

  It was wonderful.

  The entire day was the first day we didn’t speak of Stevie or Jimmy or Alana. It was the first day Tobias didn’t ask me if someone had bothered me at school. The answer for the past week had been no. After our confrontation with Stevie and Jimmy, things had gone eerily quiet. I’d caught only a few glimpses of the two of them at school, and they weren’t in the cafeteria at lunchtime. Alana had said a few snide remarks in the corridor between classes but she, too, melted away, whether in boredom or...or had Stevie told them all to back off? We’d waited all week for one of them to give us grief, but nothing had happened. Still, we couldn’t yet relax not knowing where Stevie’s head was at. Or in fact where Stevie was at.

  But here, with winter needling our cheeks until they were rosy red and our grips slipping because of our thick gloves, I squealed as I almost fell, giggling as Tobias caught me and then struggled to stay standing. We fell against the rink barriers, arms wrapped around one another, our laughter dancing together, and I felt the safest, the most content that I’d felt in a long time.

  Finally, deciding ice skating was neither of our forte, we left the ice and changed back into our shoes.

  “Do you want to do the Ferris wheel?” I said as we strolled hand in hand—or glove-covered hand in glove-covered hand—back to Princes Street.

  “Let’s leave that for night.” Tobias let go of my hand to slide his arm around my shoulders. He pulled me into his side and admitted, “I haven’t visited the castle yet.”

  Shocked by this I decided we had to rectify that immediately. It was at least a twenty-minute walk up to the castle, and we stopped at a stall to buy a hot chocolate for our journey. Up on the Mile we lingered over street art, jewelry and a sword eater whom we and a crowd encircled in fascinated horror.

  Sufficiently freaked out I led Tobias up Castle Hill and onto the castle esplanade.

  “Nice driveway,” Tobias said as we walked toward the entrance. His gaze roamed the view of the city below.

  “Just wait. It gets better up there.” I pointed to the castle.

  Inside, Tobias insisted on paying for my ticket, and then I led him up the cobbled path to the main thoroughfare. From there we visited the Great Hall where royal ceremonies were held; we saw the Royal Palace and the Stone of Destiny upon which centuries of kings of Scotland had been enthroned; the crown jewels; St. Margaret’s Chapel, which was built around 1130, making it Edinburgh’s oldest building; Mons Meg the medieval European cannon gun; and the one o’clock gun that was fired at, well, one o’clock every day, a tradition that had started back in the 1800s to allow the ships on the Firth of Forth to set their maritime clocks. Although Tobias didn’t study history or enjoy it like I did, he wanted to see everything, including the regimental museums, the national war museum and the prison re-creation.

  Finally, we stopped at the Half Moon Battery, the great curved wall that hosted the cannons and gave the castle its unique profile. From there we had a fantastic view over the city. I pointed out Calton Hill with its Athenian acropolis. And Arthur’s Seat, an ancient volcano and the main peak of the hills that formed most of Holyrood Park.

  “I haven’t climbed it yet,” Tobias said.

  “What have you been doing since you got here?”

  He smirked down at me. “Chasing after a girl.”

  Delighted, I tried hard not to grin back. “He says with absolutely no embarrassment or pricked male pride.”

  Tobias’s gaze softened. “She’s no ordinary girl.”

  I blushed and wrapped my arms around one of his, hugging in close. “We should climb Arthur’s Seat. Or you should climb it with Luke and Andy.” Tobias had grown closer to the sixth year and to Andy in our year, both of whom were on the rugby team. Although he hadn’t wanted to leave me at lunchtime in case anyone tried to start in on us again, I knew Steph and Vicki probably wanted our girls-only time back, and I had to imagine Tobias was missing hanging out with just the guys.

  “We could all climb it.”

  “I’ll bring the girls then, too.”

  After a moment of silence I ventured to say, “You know you can start eating lunch with the boys from the rugby team at school now.”

  “Is that your way of saying you’re sick of me?” he teased.

  “No.” I shoved him playfully. “I just think we should get back to normality. We shouldn’t let Stevie and his delinquent friends mess with our heads anymore.”

  Tobias stared out at the city, his gaze drawn to the opulent lights of the Christmas Fair. “How about we start that after Christmas? Just to be sure.”

  I could give him that. “Sounds like a plan.”

  He turned into me, sliding his hands around my waist and drawing me close. I stared up at him expectantly but what he said next surprised me. “Now I want to visit this poetry café of yours.”

  “Pan?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s part of you. It’s something you enjoy. And I’m expecting you to come cheer me on at my rugby games, so I feel it’s only fair I go to your thing, too.”

  I struggled not to laugh. “My thing?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Trying to be supportive and mature here.”

  “I know,” I chuckled. “And it’s much appreciated. But Tobias... Pan isn’t really your type of thing.”

  “But it’s yours,” he reiterated. “And I want to see it.”

  THE FRAGILE ORDINARYSAMANTHA YOUNG

  22

  His kisses feel like a calm before the storm,

  Like waves crashing harder and harder to shore.

  I’m pushed in deep waters, feeling myself transform,

  Now just lips, body, hands searching for more.

  —CC

  While I’d been excited about Tobias’s reaction to Princes Street at Christmastime, I was afraid to look at his face when we walked into Pan. I was afraid of his judgment since his opinion meant so much to me.

  “Drink?” he asked, drawing my reluctant gaze. He wore a neutral expression.

  “I’m okay.”

  “I’m going to get a coffee. You grab us a table.”

  I nodded, bemused by his lack of reaction. Well, not lack of reaction, but lack of judgment really. He just took in the tie-dyed scarfs, weird murals and smell of patchouli mixed with coffee like it was no big deal. Grabbing a table for two at the window, I took off my hat and scarf and listened to the woman onstage recite a poem that was clearly about loss. It was a busy day, Tobias and I taking the last little table left.

  He returned a few minutes later with his coffee and turned in his seat so that he could watch and listen to the woman. When she was done and everyone clapped, Tobias clapped, too.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  Tobias was quiet as he slipped off his beanie hat and stuck it into the pocket of his jacket. Finally, he made eye contact with me. “She was good.”

  “And the rest of the place?”

  He grinned and stared around at the space. “Eclectic,” he finally landed on.

  I smirked. “Very diplomatic.”

  Before he could respond a young guy, perhaps a few years older than us, stood at the mic and introduced himself. And then he began to read his poem. Like the woman before him, his poem was in free verse. I studied Tobias’s profile as he listened but I couldn’t get a read on him. When the young guy finished and people started chattering among themselves, Tobias looked at me. Whatever he saw on my face made his eyebrows pull together. “What?”

  “No one rhymes anymore. I mean...my poetry sometimes doesn’t have a measurable meter, so it technically is free verse, but I rhyme.”

  “So?”

  “My poetry seems childish in comparison.”

  “No it doesn’t,” he said immediately and vehemently. “Yours is f
unny and thoughtful and sometimes sad. And I get it. Just because your poetry is different to the people in here doesn’t mean you don’t have something to say.” Tobias reached across the table and took my hand in his warm one. “After everything you’ve been through, Comet, you have to know you’re brave. You showed your poetry to Mr. Stone. You’re willing to publish it in the lit mag. The next step is that stage up there.”

  The thought of getting up on that stage gave me nervous butterflies. Poetry, any piece of writing or anything a person created, was a window into their soul. When people got up on that stage, they might as well strip off their clothes and be naked. Except baring your soul was harder than baring skin. Skin was just skin. If you pierced it, you bled then you bandaged it up. It was harder to recover from an injury to the soul.

  And yet, staring into Tobias’s bright eyes, seeing his pride in me, seeing his belief in me, I thought maybe I could do it. Tobias reading my poetry had brought us together. Nothing negative had come from him reading my words. And I think that was what had given me the courage to approach Mr. Stone. The stage at Pan was a different kettle of fish.

  “Someday,” I eventually said, “Maybe...if you talk to your mum about how you really feel.”

  The light dimmed in his eyes and he pulled his hand from mine to settle back in his chair. His sullen expression probably should have warned me to back off. Instead I pressed him. “You’re still so angry with her, Tobias. And with your dad. Maybe if you tell your mum why you’re so angry it would help. Just put it out there.”

  “Oh, like you’ve told your parents why you’re pissed at them?” he argued.

  “Kyle tried to come down on me about you sleeping over after Dean’s party. I told him being a parent was an all-or-nothing deal and he’d made it clear over the years that he wanted nothing to do with me. He couldn’t change his mind to suit himself.”

  Tobias raised an eyebrow. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “What did he say?”

  I shrugged. “I slammed the door in his face.”

  He studied me thoughtfully. “That sounds like an unfinished conversation.”

  “At least I said something.”

  “So you want me to yell at my mom and slam a door in her face?” He grinned. “Already got it covered.”

  I tried not to smile, because this was serious. My boyfriend would go through life with a giant chip on his shoulder if he didn’t try to resolve his issues with his mum. “Tobias.”

  He sighed, drained his coffee and stood up. I stared at him, wondering if I’d pushed him too far and he was going to leave me sitting in the café all alone. If that happened, I might cry. We’d had such a wonderful day up until this point. Why did I have to push it?

  However, Tobias put his beanie back on and held out his hand to me. “It’s getting late. Let’s go back and ride the Ferris wheel.”

  Relief flooded me and I grinned so hard that when he pulled me to my feet, he didn’t let go. Instead he cupped my face in his hands and whispered, “Your smile kills me.”

  “That’s good though, right?”

  “It’s the best thing in my life,” he answered and followed it up with the sweetest kiss.

  As we walked out of Pan heading back toward Princes Street, I was filled with immense gratitude that I’d found Tobias. We could have discussions and disagree and he wasn’t going to hold it against me. We could just be ourselves and love each other without fear that we had to change or hold ourselves back or mute a part of our personality.

  We loved each other.

  This was real love, I decided as he hugged me close to his side. It had to be.

  Because nothing had ever felt more real in my entire life.

  * * *

  Steph made me proud as she strutted her stuff and sang her heart out as Roxie Hart. Despite our differences, it was impossible not to feel excited for her as she took over that stage. Everyone in the cast paled in comparison to her. She had this energy and magnetism up there that she didn’t have in the “every day.” Acting brought her to life, and I could see big things for her in the future.

  It was the last night of the school show’s run that week and just a few days before Christmas Eve. We’d had our last day of classes today and the auditorium was filled with the same feeling our classes had been—giddy joy and cheer. It was a lull before the storm. We would have our fifth-year prelim exams in mid-January, just a week after returning to school from the Christmas and New Year’s break.

  I sat with Vicki, who was here with both her parents. There was no tense atmosphere between them, no awkwardness that I could detect, and they were getting along well enough. I had hope for Vicki. So much hope.

  When the final curtain fell and my hands ached from clapping, Vicki and I grinned at each other.

  “Should we tell her how good she is? I’m afraid it might create a monster,” Vicki joked.

  “We should tell her. She deserves to know.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled fondly. “Our girl is going to be a superstar.”

  “Well, that was great,” Mr. Brown said as we stood up to leave. “You two find Stephanie to congratulate her and we’ll get you at the car.”

  Vicki and I wandered out into the corridor outside the auditorium and waited at the double doors that led backstage. “Do you think she’ll change fir—”

  “So tell me the truth. How was I?” Steph interrupted.

  I spun around, suffused by happiness for my friend. She stood grinning at us and Vicki and I impulsively hugged her. “You were brilliant.”

  She laughed in my ear and the three of us hugged each other tight. When we pulled back Steph wore this triumphant look, still somehow managing to be pretty despite the harsh theater makeup she was wearing that looked good onstage but not so much up close. Plus, she was all sweaty. But no wonder! She’d danced her ass off.

  “Really,” I said. “Just fantastic, Steph. I’m so proud of you.”

  Steph beamed. “Thanks. They’ve already promised me a part in the summer show.”

  “Of course they have. They’d be idiots not to.”

  “You guys are the best!” she squealed in delight. “Okay. I have to go backstage and get cleaned up. Mum and Dad are taking me out for celebratory dinner. I’ll call you guys later.” We hugged again and then she left Vicki and me alone.

  “So,” I said as we made our way through the crowds toward the exit. “Your parents are here. Together.”

  She nodded, wearing a careful expression as if she didn’t want to show she was hopeful or excited by the thought. “They’re trying. Dad is moving back in tonight, and we’re doing Christmas as a family. I’m a little bit worried, though.”

  “Don’t be,” I assured her. “Nobody’s parents are perfect, Vick. But you’ve got good ones who are just trying their best.”

  She frowned. “I know. I’ll try to remind myself of that when they’re arguing over how long the turkey should be left in the oven, while Ben and I munch on all our Christmas chocolate behind their backs.”

  I chuckled but inside I didn’t feel like laughing. Inside, I was envious of the picture she’d painted. It sounded normal. It sounded right.

  Even if I couldn’t have that in my life, Vicki deserved to have it, and I was happy for her. My friend had no idea just how much she meant to me. I hugged her before she could get in her parent’s car, although I’d surprised her, she hugged me back, squeezing me tight. We didn’t say anything, just laughed a little at ourselves.

  Vicki’s parents dropped me off by the Espy, and with their well-wishes for a wonderful Christmas ringing in my ears, I walked home along the cold, quiet esplanade. The sea was rough tonight, rushing ashore aggressively, and its bad mood seeped into my good mood, dimming it.

  Loneliness cascaded over me.

  It always did at this time of year as soon as s
chool let out. Christmas for me wasn’t what it was for most people who had parents. On Christmas Eve, Kyle and Carrie always threw a party for their friends and while the house was filled with music and laughter, it never seemed to reach me where I sat alone in my bedroom.

  When I was younger my parents gave in to tradition, and I’d always wake up on Christmas morning to presents under the tree in the sitting room. The older I got, however, the fewer the presents that could be found under there until eventually there was only a single card with a red bow among the presents I’d bought for them. Inside the card were vouchers for the bookstore. A generous amount of money, yes, but always the same thing.

  It wasn’t all bad, though. Every Christmas morning, I’d also wake up to a Christmas stocking at the foot of my bed. It was filled with chocolates, sweets, nail polish, hair accessories, pen sets, makeup and other cute, fun things. I knew it was Kyle. Always giving me just a little of what I wanted from him. Attention. Affection. Thoughtfulness.

  But always just a little.

  Temporary.

  Never enough.

  I blinked away the tears that had clouded my vision and huddled against the battering wind howling up the beach. It was a horrible night and the house was sure to be cold, because Kyle and Carrie were out for the evening. The heavy feeling in my chest was such that I knew I had to do something about it or I’d end up crying myself to sleep.

  I’d call Tobias when I got home.

  He’d take my mind off it.

  As if I’d conjured him from my deep need to not be alone tonight, Tobias was suddenly there as I pushed open the garden gate. Standing, arms crossed against the cold, in my doorway.

  Loneliness slid off my shoulders like tar that could no longer find a grip. It lay on the pathway behind me, forgotten, as I hurried toward my boyfriend and threw myself into his arms.

  “Oof.” He caught me and hugged me to him immediately. “You okay?” he murmured against my ear.

  I pulled back to smile at him. “I am now.”

  He grinned. “Yeah? You mind letting me into your house then, because I’m freezing my ass off here.”