Page 22 of I Was Always Yours (RCA: Royal Crown Academy)

Chapter 7

Sixtine, age 10

A week after the accident

Aside from bouts of crying when I look at the pictures of Astor, I spend the rest of the funeral staring at the back of Phoenix’s head.

I haven’t seen him or heard from him since I left him in the treehouse. Since the accident.

At first, I was giving him space that I needed myself. I was processing the fact that Astor had died and simultaneously drowning under the weight of the guilt andwhat ifs.

What if I hadn’t fallen off my bike and lagged uselessly behind?

What if I caught up with him and told him to wait before crossing the road?

What if he heard me call his name and stopped?

What if I could have saved him?

I also didn’t know how to face Phoenix, knowing that he’d probably blame me in some way. I’d been afraid of seeing him, afraid of facing the truth as I imagined it because the last thing I wanted was for him to hate me.

So, I’d stayed away the first few days and my parents had gone to his house alone to pay their respects. But eventually, my mum reminded me that he was my best friend and he needed me.

That he’d never hate me.

So, I tried calling, but he didn’t pick up. I tried going over there, but his housekeeper said he was busy or away. I was sure he was ignoring me, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

He’d just lost his brother and I had to be supportive in whatever way he needed me to be, that’s what my mum said. So, I’d waited for him to reach out.

He hadn’t.

This was the longest we’d gone without seeing each other since we’d met, and I missed him. I kept hoping that he’d climb the tree abutting my balcony and sneak into my room to hang out like he’d done in the past, but the knock at my window never came.

Now being able to see the back of his head, the straight line of his small shoulders in his suit, the slant of his nose when he turns towards the casket, it’s the first glance I have of him and I drink it in greedily.

On either side of him, his mum is completely catatonic and his dad is stiff and distant. Neither one of them does anything to comfort him.

I wish I could go stand next to him and hold his hand.

Tears roll down my cheeks as the words of the Rite of Committal are said and Phoenix walks up to lay a flower on Astor’s coffin.

When he turns, I catch a glimpse of his face. He looks grim and more serious than I’ve ever seen him. Gone is the youthful look in his face, he seems to have aged overnight.

As the ceremony draws to a close, the family take a moment before Astor’s coffin is lowered into the ground. He’s going to be buried on the grounds of his ancestral home, not far from the treehouse where we played every day.

His mum throws herself at the casket, wailing, and has to be helped to the house by several of the women. The rest of the crowd follows naturally after them, leaving only Phoenix, Rogue, and Rhys behind.

He hasn’t moved from where he stood during the ceremony, his hands buried in his suit pockets as he looks at the coffin. His friends stand watch over him silently, leaning against a nearby tree and staying out of the way.

I don’t want to talk to him in front of them, but something tells me they’re not going to leave him alone easily. Rhys tips his chin at me as I walk past, and I wave at him nervously in return.

I don’t know why I’m anxious, but I have a shiver down my spine that tells me something volatile is in the air.

I’m sure Phoenix hears me walk up to him and he must recognize the way I move like I know the way he does, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Phoenix.”

He turns his face, his eyes slanting at me over his shoulder and that shiver tickling my spine turns into an ice-cold band of fear around my heart.

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