Page 59 of Oar Than Friends

‘Your brother?’

‘Yeah, he didn’t donate his body, but I feel like I can visualize him afterwards, if you know what I mean … you know, after he died … and that maybe Leo would know him in heaven.’

Her head had dropped down so low I could barely see her.

‘Kate, it’s not dumb at all. The Ancient Greeks believed that the moment a body died, its spirit left in a small puff of air, and continued to exist forever around us. I’m sureJake and Leo are floating around the clouds together having an excellent time.’

When she looked at me, her eyes glistened. If I could, I would have reached through the screen to wipe them; as it was, her tears sat heavily on my chest. I might not have lost any siblings, but I understood grief and right then I wanted to take it all away for her.

‘Yes,’ she laughed softly, ‘I’m sure they’re causing havoc. Leo has a tattoo, so he definitely has a story to tell.’

‘Yeah, I bet. What’s it of?’

‘A red heart on his chest.’

‘He’s a romantic. What about you? Any tattoos?’

She shook her head hard. ‘Noooo. I can barely make it through the dentist and the buzzing of the drill; the thought of having a needle repeatedly pierce my skin,’ she shivered dramatically, ‘no thanks.’

I laughed at the expression on her face; gone was the heartache from a moment ago. ‘Really? You seem too tough to me to be scared of a little needle.’

‘Hey,’ she pinned with me a stern glare, ‘looks can be deceiving.’

‘So what you’re telling me is that you need protecting at all costs, and I’m the one man for the job?’

Her grin widened, before she burst into peals of laughter which rang in my chest and reverberated off my ribcage. It was a sound I’d play on repeat forever.

‘What about you?’ she asked, finally. ‘Any tattoos? Or are you about to tell me you’re also scared of needles?’

‘Hey! I’m scared of nothing.’ I crooked a grin at her, ‘I do have a tattoo actually, two in fact. Wanna see them?’

She frowned, ‘Depends. Where are they?’

‘Nowhere x-rated.’ I laughed, reaching behind my head to remove my hoodie.

My tattoo was inked along the inside of my left bicep; I could have left my t-shirt on, it would have been easy to pull up the soft cotton sleeves to show her, but instead it went the way of my hoodie, tossed to the side of the bed. Seeing the appreciative look on her face as she took me in, as her gaze moved slowly across my chest, her eyes flaring bright, made it the best decision of my life to date.

Her eyes were now focused on the way my bicep flexed, and my tattoo of the five Olympic rings I had inked there. I’d opted to keep them in black outline, that perhaps I’d have them coloured in when I won a gold, though I kind of liked them as they were.

‘Where’s your medal?’ she asked, finally looking at me.

‘My mother has it. She has all my medals, she keeps them in her bathroom.’ I laughed with Kate, because maybe it was a little kooky. ‘I don’t know why she keeps them in there, she has all our school achievements framed or hanging. Everything from my sister winning the school fun run to those medals. They all have equal placement.’

‘That’s cute,’ she smiled. ‘How many siblings do you have?’

‘Three younger ones. A sister and two brothers.’

‘What are they called?’

‘Alexander and Hector are my brothers. Phoebe is my sister.’

‘I like their names.’

‘They’re all Greek, but also English enough that my dad didn’t complain.’

‘Is Arthur a Greek name?’

I shook my head, and began twisting the signet ring on my pinkie, ‘No, it’s English, but my middle name is Titus. King Arthur was a legendary warrior who defeated the Saxons when they invaded Britain. It’s my grandfather’s name, and as the first-born son I inherited it. But no one calls me Arthur.’

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