Page 114 of You Had Me At Thirteen

A warm body presses up beside me, but I don’t have to look down to know who it is. My body senses her, the way it relaxes when she’s near me. My nostrils recognise the vanilla and coconut scent of her dark blond hair, the breeze grabbing hold of it and whipping it around her face. Tear-stained and beautiful.

She threads her arm through mine and rests her head against my upper arm. For a moment, I’m able to take a deep breath. Holding out my hand containing the tulip, I let it drop from my fingers, sending it tumbling into the hole. It lands on top of all the others, bouncing in slow motion until it comes to its final resting place.

FIFTY-ONE

Matilda

* * *

Wren sits in the passenger seat of Carla’s car, his forehead pressed against the window while he stares out of it. We still haven’t exchanged words, but he hasn’t told me to piss off, either, so that’s a good sign.

Carla glances at him now and then, and I wonder if she’s as worried about him as I am. He didn’t shed one tear. Now, I know everyone grieves differently, but I’m worried he’s trying to keep it all locked inside the way he usually does. I know what that’s like. It eats at you until you don’t even recognise yourself any longer.

My eyes lock with Carla’s in the rear-view mirror, and she gives me a small smile. I return it, then go back to looking out the window.

Once home, I head inside to get changed, letting Wren know I’ll be over his house in a few minutes. He only nods before walking inside.

The heavy black dress I wore to the funeral falls to the carpet when I unzip it, so I step out of it, leaving it in place, and change into a pair of black tights and a baggy t-shirt.

When I head next door, I find Carla in the kitchen, making tea like she always does. I swear she’s my soul mate.

‘Hey, Til,’ she says as she hands me a mug.

‘Thanks,’ I say, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic and bringing it to my lips. ‘Where’s Wren?’

‘He went upstairs for a shower, I think.’ She busies herself with the teabag in her mug, dunking it over and over before squeezing it out and throwing it into the sink.

‘How’s he doing?’

Carla presses her fingertips into her eye sockets, smudging her mascara before she wipes it away. ‘Honestly, I don’t know. He won’t talk to me. It’s like he’s shut down completely. Maybe you can get through to him.’

‘I don’t know about that. After everything, he… I don’t know. I guess he just needs time to process what’s happened.’

Carla pushes out a breath. ‘You’re probably right. I’m going to hang around for a bit, monitor him.’

I raise an eyebrow. ‘Yeah? Is that the only reason?’ I saw the way Jordan looked at Carla today, which had me wondering how long that had been going on for.

She swats my arm. ‘You saw that huh?’ She takes a sip of her tea, but there’s a small grin on her face. ‘I didn’t really want to rub it in Wren’s face, you know?’

‘You’re allowed to be happy, Carls. I think it’s great. Jordan is a good guy.’

‘I know, but with everything going on…’

‘I get it. No need to explain to me.’

We sit in silence as we finish the contents of our mugs. I’m really glad Carla is going to be staying for a while. We’ve grown closer, mainly because of Deb, but even with the age difference I feel like we can be great friends. And if she keeps feeding me cups of tea and biscuits, I’ll be her best friend until the end of time.

‘I’m going to check on Wren,’ I say as I give Carla a hug.

She hugs me back but says nothing else.

When I reach the top of the stairs, I can hear the water running in the bathroom. Wren’s been in there a while, which has me a little worried, and I have to be sure that he’s all good.

Tapping on the door, I press my ear to it. ‘Wren? Are you okay?’

No answer, so I knock again. ‘Wren?’

Still nothing. ‘I’m coming in,’ I say and push open the door.

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