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CHRISSIE
The night he came to my house and threw pebbles against my window, I woke up with a start. I looked out the window to see him standing there on the lawn, looking up at me, expectantly.
I quickly put on a tracksuit and then I walked down the passage toward the stairs very quietly. I stopped in front of my parent’s door and listened for a while. My dad was still snoring rhythmically, and my mom breathed in harmony with him.
When I got outside and the cool night air caressed my skin, I felt safe when he held me in his arms.
He told me he loved me, and my heart grew wings. Yet, I felt such deep sadness that I could not help it when tears started gliding down my cheeks.
He wiped the tears from my cheek, softly, tenderly, and then he asked, “Would you be my girl?”
I knew it was silly, never to be, but I said, “Yes,” anyway.
We go to a backstreet tattoo parlour where they do not ask me for my parent’s consent or for my age. We decide together, to get matching tattoos. We choose a small red heart, the only difference is the small inconspicuous V permanently inked into the centre of mine, and the C permanently inked onto his. We get them tattooed onto our chests, in the near proximity of our real beating hearts, and low enough so my parents would never see it. The pain is excruciating, but once it is over, it is worth the effort and now I have something which binds us together forever. Something we will share no matter what happens in the future.
We go to the beach, we go bowling, we do everything people in a normal relationship will do. We walk close, we laugh and talk but never do we show any affection towards each other in public and never do we go where we know our parents, or their friends might be.
One morning he texts me, before I even get out of bed, and tells me to bring my swimming costume with me. I pack my bag and hide it under my bed until my parents leave.
After he collects me from my home, we drive to the Country Estate, the same one Anne lives in, and I ask him curiously, “Where are we going?”
“I thought we could go swimming at my house today.”
I frown. “You live in the Country Estate?”
“Yeah. Are you shocked a black person could live there?”
I gasp insulted. “No.”
We arrive at his house, and it is inspiring and extensive. I wondered a while back if his dad might be involved in illegal activities, and seeing his house now, re-affirms my suspicions.
I follow him into the cool interior, and then he shows me to the bathroom so I can get changed into my swimwear. When I come out of the bathroom, he is waiting for me and I follow him to the swimming pool.
He dives in spontaneously from the side and I walk to the stairs and get in slowly. The cool water swirls around my body, giving me goose bumps. I dive in under the water and come up smiling.
He glides through the water closer to me making tiny waves on the surface of the water, and then pulls me closer to him.
As I lift my hand to slide them around his shoulders, I smile. “You are the one—the one who was dressed as the phantom at the masked ball?”
He grins. “Did I have you wondering?”
“You did. I was looking for you for days and yet you were right there with me every day. I can’t believe I could not put two and two together.”
He pulls me into him, tightly to his chest, and I sigh blissfully as I lean closer into him. I kiss him with an abandonment which shocks me.
Breathlessly he draws away from me, and smiling, he says, still holding me close to him, “My friends say I am a fool for loving you.”
“You told your friends?” I ask shocked.
“Only the ones I trust.”
I look at him, questioningly. “Like whom?”
From within the house, I hear his name being called and he moves away from me hurriedly, exclaiming under his breath, “My god, it’s my dad.”
I turn around as his eyes look up at the balcony doors and my, “Hello,” is choked off in my throat when I notice his dad glaring down at me. His dad looks at Vincent reproachfully before he turns around and walks back into the house without acknowledging me.
Vincent says immediately, “Come. I’ll take you home.”
I get out of the pool, feeling uncomfortable and quickly dry myself off.
He walks with me to the bathroom so I can change into my dry clothes and then while I am in the bathroom, I can hear their hushed, raised voices echo through the house.
I am almost too scared to walk out of the bathroom and when I eventually do, Vincent is waiting for me, looking forlorn.
We walk to the front door silently, and when we get to his car, he opens the door for me. We do not speak while we drive to my home.
When he stops in front of my house, he looks at me despondently and all he says before I get out the car is, “I am so sorry, but I’ll see you next week on the bus when we go on the tour.”
I nod in agreement and then I go inside. I go to my room and I phone Anne. She answers the phone excitedly, and I want to discuss Vincent with her, but I feel I cannot. My heart is in pieces and talking about it will not fix it.
That night I lay on my bed, thinking about Vincent. I think about the song he sang, the song he wrote for me, the music of it still resonates in my head.
Even though it seems so very wrong, deep down in the core of me—I love him. Always will.
It is better this way.
