Page 3 of Five Things I Love About You

‘Yes you’re fine to go,’ the officer says. ‘Thank you for your assistance.’

‘Are you sure? I do feel like this was my fault.’

‘Seriously, go,’ eyebrow lady says. ‘She’ll be okay. The ambulance is on its way and she’s in good hands until then.’

Through the narrow slit of my eyes I see him hesitating. I can make out a clean-shaven chin and the pink tie from before, a navy suit and a full head of dark hair. He doesn’t move straight away and I think he’s decided to stay. But then he stands and disappears from view and the sky is above me once again.

I hear footsteps disappearing, and slowly the low rumble of voices around me filters back into my conscience. Traffic and people and then, in the distance, the whine of an ambulance.

‘They’re nearly here,’ eyebrow lady says. ‘I’m Genevieve by the way. I won’t leave you on your own.’ The warmth of her hand is pressed against my shoulder and I close my eyes again, and let the professionals take over…

* * *

The hard gravelly surface of the road feels like a luxury bed now, the mattress soft, the pillows beneath my head thick and downy. I let myself sink into them momentarily, and a smile spreads across my face.

Opening my eyes I turn my head to find someone watching me. A man. I can see his dark hair and the bottom of his chin, a slender neck – but for some reason the rest of his face is in shadow and I can’t make out any of his features. That’s weird. I close my eyes, rub them, open them again. But nothing’s changed.

‘Hey,’ he says, and the low timbre of his voice makes my skin tingle.

‘Hello,’ I say, trying not to let him know I have no idea who he is or why he’s here. I don’t feel scared though. In fact, I feel happy and comfortable. I smile at him.

He moves closer, and when he’s close enough to feel his breath on my skin, his eyes swim into focus; a deep, dark brown with flecks of gold. The sun comes out from behind a cloud and they burn amber, reflecting back fire.

‘I’m sorry I stepped out in front of you,’ he says in a soft Geordie lilt.

‘It’s okay, I think it was my fault,’ I reply, hardly daring to breathe.

He hovers over me a moment, his eyes burrowing into me. I want to pull away, to see what he looks like, who he is, but I can’t seem to move. And now he’s even closer and I shiver as the warmth of his lips presses against mine and I respond hungrily, as though kissing this man right here, right now is exactly where I’m meant to be.

My mind might not know who he is, but my body definitely does, and my heart thumps as his hand gently caresses my face, my shoulder, my waist. A low throb pulses deep inside me and I?—

He pulls away suddenly, the gap between us cold, a yawning canyon. He’s speaking again and although I can see his lips moving, his voice sounds different, higher, no accent and…

Wait.

I know that voice.

‘Kirstie?’ I whisper, frantically looking round for my best friend, but she’s not there. In fact, there’s nothing there at all and as I look back, mystery man’s face starts to shimmer, becoming paler and paler until it’s almost transparent and I don’t understand what’s happening.

Then he’s moving away from me, drifting towards the end of the bed and floating upwards. I reach out to try and pull him back, but my fingers only lightly brush his, then he’s speeding up, up, away from me, hurtling now, back, back, back… And then POOF!

He’s gone.

And my eyes open.

2

‘You’re awake!’

A familiar face looms into view as I peel my eyes open. I smile and try to focus on the details of Kirstie’s face as fragments of my dream evaporate into the stuffy air of the room.

‘Hey,’ I say, but my voice is scratchy and sore.

‘Don’t try and talk,’ she says, and I watch her arm disappear out of sight then return clutching a plastic cup of water with a straw. It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.

‘Let me help you sit up,’ she says, wiggling her hands behind my shoulders and slowly pushing me up to sitting. My head is pounding and my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton wool, but when she places the straw between my lips, the cool liquid feels like nectar on my poor, parched tongue.

Kirstie puts the cup back wherever it came from, then plumps up the pillows behind my head so I can sit more comfortably. Finally, she perches on the bed beside me.

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