Page 7 of Unspoken Words
“Now who’s the snooty one, huh?”
Connor stopped and braced his hand against the tree I’d tried to hide behind. His shoulders slumped, and for a second I thought he was going to keep walking, but he didn’t. He just stood there, like a sad European statue.
I felt bad. “Are you okay?”
No words passed his lips as he turned to face me, and when I saw the complete and utter sorrow in his eyes, my chest tightened, almost to the point of pain.
“I … I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just mucking around.”
His lifeless eyes stared back at me, or more accurately, through me. They were empty. Hollow. Or maybe I was empty and hollow and that’s why they were staring right through me. I couldn’t quite tell at that point. There was no more laughter. No more happy. No more sparkle. And the fact I’d somehow been the cause of that change felt really awful.
“I just … I just wanted to get to know you a little better,” I explained, dropping my gaze to my feet. “I really am sorry. I say stupid thing sometimes. That’s why I like to write my words. I’m an idiot. My mouth makes me an idiot.”
The tops of Connor’s sneakers entered my vision when they stopped adjacent to mine. I looked up, which was when he gently coaxed my notebook from my tensely clamped fingers. Strangely enough, I didn’t wrestle it out of his possession. Had any other person taken it from me, I wouldn’t have hesitated to wrench it back, but, for some reason I couldn’t explain, I knew his intentions in that moment weren’t malicious. My notebook was safe. My thoughts, sights, and feelings were safe.
Connorwas safe.
Squatting down, he picked up the pen I hadn’t realised I’d dropped then opened my notebook to the very last page, pausing and momentarily closing his eyes. I held my breath and waited, which was when he opened his eyes and scribbled something down before handing it back to me.
“You want to know why we moved?” he asked.
I nodded.
“That’s why,” he said, gesturing to the notebook now pressed to my chest.
I swallowed heavily, and it wasn’t until he’d walked away, disappearing as quickly as the breeze had brought his music to my ears, that my grip relaxed.Wow! That was intense. Eloise, you stupid idiot, learn to keep your mouth shut.
Slapping my hand to my forehead, I swiftly opened my notebook and flipped the pages until I found his note:
My best friend was murdered by a jerk called cancer.
I gasped and snapped shut the book.
And that was the very first time Connor Bourke stole my air.
Chapter Three
Ellie
By the time I gotback to the campsite, Dad and Chris had set up the tents, and Mum was organising our makeshift kitchen.
“Nice of you to join us, Eloise. I take it you had a think about what we discussed in the car?” She was giving me the mothers-know-best look, lip slightly raised, eyebrows arched, head wobbling from side to side.
I nodded, sheepishly.
“And?” she probed.
“And …” I glimpsed toward Connor. He was helping his father set up the portable shower tent.
He looked my way.
I smiled, meek.
He did the same.
“And? … Ellie, and what?”
“Oh, and … I’m going to make the most of it, like you said. I’m going to try and enjoy our holiday.”
