Page 13 of I Was Always Yours (RCA: Royal Crown Academy)

“Sure.” He answers with an affected shrug, acting disinterested like any other boy would. But his eyes are shiny and unilaterally focused on my hands as they watch my fingers pluck a few flowers and start to braid them together.

“This can be your birthday gift from last year.” I say, glancing up at him from under my lashes.

There’ve been so many times over the past year that I thought he’d finally cash in on the gift I owed him, but never did. In fact, he hasn’t mentioned it since he originally demanded it on his birthday.

Nonetheless, the weight of that unfinished exchange hangs heavily between us.

Maybe it’s made worse by the fact that it goes unacknowledged. It means that every time I wrap my fingers around a new toy or item I like, I expect him to demand it from me.

Like when my mum gave me my pocket money in front of him and Astor, I threw a furtive glance his way to see if he was taking note of how quickly I shoved the bills in my pocket.

Or when I won the stuffed bear at the local fair last year. I’d expected him to rip it out of my arms before I could even hug it against my chest.

And when my dad brought me back candy from China, I assumed I’d have to immediately hand it over.

If he asked and I didn’t want to give him whatever it was he wanted, I knew I could refuse him directly or use my parents to back me up if needed. But apprehensive as I was about this whole situation, I knew that when the time came, I'd give him what he wanted.

That’s the type of hold he has over me.

But he’s never asked. Never even brought it up and maybe that’s because he’s forgotten.

His answering smirk tells me I’m way off base with that hypothesis.

“No, you offered to make me that crown, it doesn’t count.” He says, putting a blade of grass between his teeth, “Plus, I’ll know what I want when I finally see it.”

“How?”

He thinks about that for a second, twirling the grass around his tongue a couple of times before he speaks again.

“I’ll have waited a long time to ask for something, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then whenever I finally ask for it, it’ll have to be because I found something that I can’t live without having.”

“Don’t get too excited. My parents don’t give me that much pocket money.” I quip back, because clearly there’s no way I’ll be able to give him anything as nice as what he’s expecting.

“Start saving up.” He chirps.

I throw some of the flowers in my lap at him, giggling when they hit him in the face.

“You’ve maimed me.” He says, cupping his eye dramatically.

I laugh him off but not before discreetly checking if I did hurt him. That’s the last thing I want to do.

He picks up one of the flowers that are now strewn over his clothes and holds it out to me. It’s just the stem of a flower and all of its petals are gone.

“What did this one do to piss you off?”

I laugh again, realizing how that must look. I did pluck all of the petals off, but not in an emo way.

I look around at the grass next to us until I spot a white flower. Getting on my knees, I reach for it and pluck it out of the ground, holding it up between us.

“This, and the one in your hands, are Marguerite daisies. My mum showed me a game we can play with them.”

“What is it?”

Remembering the translation, I flush and avoid his eyes. “It’s not really that fun,” I say.

---