Page 8 of Time After Time
I froze for a moment, my eyes widening. “Sebastian!” I gasped, choking on my own laughter as I reached for something to throw at him, though he was already grinning too much to look sorry.
“What? I’m serious!” Sebastian laughed, leaning back. His gaze flickered to the side for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “I want a sibling... Mum’s been talking about having another baby for ages, and I know Robert wants it too.” His expression softened, and he shrugged a bit. “I just don’t want to keep bothering them.”
Before I could respond, he raised his hand, palm out, a playful but earnest look in his eyes. “I know I’m not really bothering them, but they deserve their space too. You know?”
“I brought you a book,” I said, eager to change the subject, my mind still lingering on the thought of Sebastian with a sibling.
The stack of books in my room wasn’t for me. I didn’t really enjoy reading, but Sebastian did. He often talked about how he could read a page, and the words would transform in his mind like a film playing in his head. I couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of envy as I thought about it, knowing that when I looked at a page, all I saw were the words, plain and unmoving.
Glancing around for a spot to place the glass, Sebastian quickly took both the glass and the spoon from my hand.
I pulled the book from my backpack and handed it to him just as he set down the empty glass of a new dessert and carefully wiped the spoon clean—the same spoon I’d used. “Persuasion?” I confirmed with a nod as he turned the book over in his hands to inspect the cover. “I’ve been wanting to read this,” he said, his interest visibly sparked. Ever since finishingPride and Prejudicea few months ago, Sebastian had been eager to explore more of Jane Austen’s work. I had even asked Sylvie to drive me to the library while he was visiting his grandmother to pick up the rest of her books for him.
“Alright,” he said, letting out a contented sigh as he cradled the book. A smile tugged at his lips, and his eyes lit up. “Reading time?”
Chapter 4
Sebastian
The words on the page stopped making sense.
Gen’s fingers slid through my hair, her gentle touch massaging my scalp, and the words on the page blurred. Every line I read slipped away like water through my fingers, leaving me wondering if I’d even said them aloud. I hadn’t realised how much I missed this—lying in her lap, her fingers tracing soft, absent-minded patterns as she listened.
“That’s enough for today,” I said, stifling a yawn mid-sentence.
We hadn’t read much, just a few pages, but it was already clear the protagonist’s family was going to be exhausting. Still, I wanted to know what would happen to Anne Elliot.
As I sat up, Gen’s fingers slipped from my hair and rested quietly in her lap. She stayed focused on the book, now perched comfortably on my rucksack.
“Damn,” I muttered, slipping an almost whole apricot in my mouth from the pile Gen’s mum had given me. The pit slid out easily as the juicy nectar trickled down my arm. I instinctively licked the trail, following it up to my fingers before popping the rest of the apricot into my mouth. I felt a pair of eyes on me, but Iignored it, shutting my eyes and letting out a satisfied grunt. The taste was pure bliss.
St. James’ never disappoints when it comes to fruit. Michael must have some secret trick up his sleeve or something. These aren’t just the best in town, they’re the best apricots I’ve ever had.
“Have you heard anything from the apprenticeship?” Her question made a knot of anxiety suddenly tighten in my throat.
I finally met her eyes and exhaled softly. “Not yet, but I’m hopeful.”
Even with the anxiety swirling in my chest, a small spark of hope broke through. I’d applied for an apprenticeship with Reth Inoue. He was one of the most well-known pastry chefs out there, and he didn’t just make desserts—he created masterpieces. He shaped them, told stories through them.
I’d thrown myself into every extra culinary course I could find, doing whatever I could to strengthen my portfolio and stand out. This was my chance, the opportunity I’d been working toward for years, to follow the passion I’d always known was meant for me.
“They’ll definitely choose you.” She placed her hand on my knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. My eyes followed her fingers before meeting her gaze. Gen had been my biggest supporter since we were kids, always there. Just like I was for her. “You’re incredible. I believe in you.”
A flicker of sadness dimmed her eyes, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was also thinking about the future that might pull us apart. The thought unsettled me, so I pushed it aside.
I leaned in and ruffled her hair, feeling the damp strands slip through my fingers. She let out a whine, swatting at my hands in mock annoyance. Her hair, a tangled mess from our swim, fell loosely around her cheeks, with a few grains of sand clinging here and there.
The curve of her lips, shaped like Cupid’s bow, gleamed in the sunlight. I couldn’t help but notice, as always, how her lower lip had a subtle fullness that contrasted with the top. Her cheeks, pleasantly round, framed a heart-shaped face. She had once mentioned disliking this feature, feeling it made her look childish. I saw it differently. Her face was anything but childish.
“What about you?” I knew this question could weigh heavily on her.
Michael, her dad, had always set high expectations for her and her sister. For reasons I couldn’t fully understand, he wanted them to leave this small town and explore the world. Geneviève had once dreamed of leaving as a child, but recently, she admitted that the thought of leaving this place and what it meant to her was starting to tug at her.
“Yeah, you know my dad,” she said, her gaze dropping to her lap as her fingers nervously tugged at the edge of her bikini bottom. “He wants me to go into a corporate job or something so I can make a decent income and never worry about money. But I can’t stand the idea of being stuck in a job that doesn’t excite me. Maybe it sounds naive, but I want to actually enjoy what I do.” She sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping as a quiet desperation crept into her wavering voice. “Sure, a big paycheck wouldn’t hurt, but…” Her expression faltered, and she chewed on the skin around her thumb, lost in thought. “This morning, he stuck a pamphlet from the University of Barcelona on my back… about their architecture program.”
I reached out and eased her thumb away from her mouth, knowing how deep her nervous biting could go. “What’s on your mind?”
Her brow furrowed, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought, her lips parting as if searching for the right words. “I had this strange dream... more like a nightmare.”
