Page 104 of You Had Me At Thirteen

I love that Wren is opening up to me, but my heart is breaking for him as well. Eventually, I convince him to head home, and when I pull up in front of my house, I text Carla to let her know I found Wren, and he’s home now. She sends me back a thumbs up and a heart emoji.

We make our way up to Wren’s room, and as we walk in, he strips his shirt and jeans off before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me onto the bed with him.

He wraps himself around me and rests his head on the pillow, smashing into it a couple of times to get comfortable. We stare at each other for second, Wren’s eyes glassing over when I trace his lips and jaw with my index finger. The stubble on his chin tickles my own when I press my lips to his. He blinks, sending a single tear down his cheek. I kiss it away, tasting the saltiness of his pain.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, my eyes searching his face.

He sniffs. ‘I don’t want to talk anymore.’

‘That’s okay, we don’t have to.’

‘Will you stay with me?’ Wren swallows, his eyes showing the depths of his pain.

Wrapping my arms around him, I pull him to me so his head rests on my chest. ‘Of course I’ll stay.’

He melts against me, draping an arm over my waist as he settles into position beside me. His breathing settles into a slow, deep rhythm, which has me wondering how long it’s been since he’s had a decent sleep.

When Wren twitches, I know he’s drifting off. And as I stare at his ceiling, him asleep against my chest, me stroking his thick, dark hair, I breath him in. He smells of pine needles, reminding me of our first encounter at the lookout. It seems like a lifetime ago now.

When I drift off myself, Wren mumbles something, but I don’t understand what it is until he says it again.

My heart speeds up at the words.

I love you.

Did Wren just admit he loves me in his sleep?

I glance down so I can see his face. His eyes are closed, his face relaxed, his beautiful lips parted slightly. His soft snores tell me he’s definitely out cold, no sign of wakefulness at all.

I kiss the top of his head. ‘I love you too.’

FORTY-FIVE

Matilda

* * *

They announce my race through the loudspeaker, and I step up to the starting line and wipe my hands on my skin-tight shorts. I glance around the stand full of students wearing their school colours. Blue, red, green, yellow, even pink.

Only, it’s the faces I focus on. Even after all these years, I still look for him. It’s stupid, I know. He’s dead. But this is the only place I ever felt loved by him, although love may be too strong a word. Accepted is more accurate, and even then, that’s a stretch. I knew that if I won, he’d take me for ice cream afterwards and tell me how great I did. Once the dopamine wore off, I’d once again be the thorn in his side. If only he could have pulled me out and snapped me in half, his life would have been less painful. Fuck, my life would have been less painful.

But I kept coming back for more, just like my mum, only my need to be loved by him was visceral, and for that moment when I crossed the finish line first, I could feel his love for me, or at least his version of love, anyway. It would fill the hole inside me just enough that I thought things would be different. I’d shown him I loved him again and this time he would see it, pick me up and wrap me in his arms and tell me he loves me too. Except those words never left his mouth. It was,Who’s my little superstar!OrGreat work, kid. Never,I’m so proud of you, or God forbid,I love you, Matilda.

I bounce on the spot, shaking away the thoughts of my dead father. Wren and Audrey sit in the stands, Coach at the finish line. The two Sunny State girls – my biggest competition – give me a nod as they step up on either side of me. These girls are good, but with the way things have been going at training, I know I can beat them.

Coach has been pissed at me the last couple of weeks because of my suspension, and the fact I showed up late last week. But it’s not like me being late is going to affect me much. I’m in great shape, especially with all the extra cardio I’ve been doing thanks to Wren.

The crowd goes quiet.

‘On your marks,’ the speaker says.

I still, readying myself as I focus out in front. Three and three-quarter laps for me to prove my worth. Prove I’m not a failure and that I deserve to be loved, to win.

One. Two. The buzzer rings out through the stadium, and I take off, focusing on my race and not the girls who have taken off fast. Unless they can keep that pace and leave enough for a sprint at the end, they’ll burn out quickly.

As we come round for the first lap, I’m in about fifth place, but that doesn’t worry me. Both Sunny State girls are just behind me, so I know I’m pacing well.

Flags and foam fingers blur in my peripheral, cheers and whistles a background noise against my own thoughts.

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