I woke from an average night’s rest. That morning I didn’t wake in a sweat, tangled with my sheets. I dozed in and out of sleep. Wrestled with restlessness. Throughout the night I had peered at my alarm clock, Kai at the front of my mind. What was he not telling me?
I got out of bed and grabbed some breakfast. It wasn’t much, but at least there was something in my stomach to keep me going through the day – until I had to convince myself to eat something again. I no longer had to take the tablets I was prescribed – I had taken them all. But if anything changed or if I needed something, all I had to do was call Dr Enderson. I had considered asking for another prescription of painkillers, but they didn’t stop the memories. They didn’t stop the pain in my mind from hurting.
I made myself comfortable on the sofa and turned on the TV, stumbling upon a black-and-white movie. I didn’t care what it was about. There were no colours to shade myself from and it made me feel safe. As time passed I became engrossed. The movie mirrored my life. There was a special secret painting that gradually revealed the main character’s inner ugliness. I needed to know how it ended so I might prepare myself if it ended the same for me.
My phone beeped.
I smiled when I saw it was a text from Liam.
Liam: Hey P! How u feeling today? xx
Me: Hi Liam. I’m OK. How r u?
Liam: I’m good. What have u been up to?
Me: Therapy. Which Mum is happy about and I’m sure u r too … I met this guy the other day and we went on a date.
Liam: Glad to hear you’re doing well. U know u can talk to me whenever u need to. I’m just a text, phone call, video chat away xx
Liam: & who’s this guy you’ve met?!? What’s his name?
Me: His name’s Kai. He works at the coffee shop we love!
Liam: Do u need me & the guys to suss him out?
Me: I think I’m doing fine by myself. But I will inform u if I need back up.
Liam: OK P. Be good! I’ve gotta get back to class. Speak soon! xx
Me: Stay outta trouble kid!
I placed my phone on the coffee table and continued to watch the film. The plot was thickening. The main character’s conscience was getting the better of him and only a full confession would absolve him from his past. I feared for how long it would be until I could be cleared of my own past. Cleansed from my secret. Was my time for absolution nearing?
My phone beeped.
The sound shook my thoughts that intertwined my reality, that movie and my secret. I took a deep breath. I was becoming good at shifting my thoughts but worried that I would no longer be able to achieve it so easily in front of the ones I cared for. I wondered when I couldn’t hide anymore.
I grabbed my phone. It was a text from Kai. There wasn’t a single ounce of me that knew what he would write. I couldn’t read him like he could me. But I found myself partially smiling, even though my stomach twisted.
Kai: Guitar or ukulele?
Me: What?
He replied immediately.
Kai: Which do u prefer the sound of?
Me: Guitar.
Kai: Excellent choice Miss Swift. Shall we say today 1 pm at our picnic table?
Me: Our picnic table? And which one is that exactly?
I looked at the time – 12.26 pm. He enjoyed spontaneity.
It took him a couple of minutes to respond. I waited impatiently for his colourful reply.
My phone beeped. I opened the new text.
Kai: The one we sat at for our very first date.
I laughed a little. That smile lingered on my face for longer than I predicted. Longer than I expected. I thought back to our first date and it made a feeling spark inside me. Was I happy? I decided to halt the over-analyser inside of me. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be moving forward. I wouldn’t be creating moments. Building forces to help stop me thinking about my past.
Me: See u at 1.
Kai: Bring a blanket!
I wore my black hooded coat, wrapped a thick scarf around my neck and hugged a blanket as I made my way to the picnic table. Our picnic table. The wooden rectangle joined to the two benches at either side. It looked darker than I remembered, perhaps because of the heavy downpour during the night. I folded the blanket long ways and then over again so it was big enough for us to sit on it. I put it on the table then raised myself up and placed my feet on the seat.
Cars passed. The splashing of tyres on wet roads flickered in my ears. A slight breeze shuffled. It wasn’t strong enough to send shivers up and down my spine, but still I rubbed my hands over my legs to create some warmth. I turned to the coffee shop and saw Kai wandering towards me. In his right hand he held two takeaway cups in a cardboard tray and in his left hand he held the neck of an acoustic guitar.
He stood at the opposite end of the picnic table. “Good afternoon, Peyton Swift. Did you dream of anything sweet last night?”
No. When my slumber was disturbed I thought of you. When I went back to sleep I don’t remember dreaming, only to wake up again and think of you. “Not that I can remember … Did you?”
“Not that I can remember. Dreams are a curious thing. I brought us some hot chocolates. You do like hot chocolate, right?”
“Of course I do. What a silly question.”
Kai chuckled. “Well good. I brought one with marshmallows, and one without. Which do you prefer?”
“Marshmallows, please.” I grabbed the takeaway cup. It was warm in my hands. A new feeling of heat toured my skin. I took a sip. The sweet taste of marshmallows hit my tastebuds. I smiled. It made me think of the many times during winter when Mum made Liam and me hot chocolates layered with mini marshmallows. The three of us snuggled on the sofa, wrapped with blankets as a fake fire sparked on Liam’s laptop, and we watched a movie on the television.
I took another sip. The hot liquid warmed my insides. “So, what’s with the guitar?”
“Well, you told me you like drawing and painting, but haven’t been creative lately. So I thought I would show you something I like doing to help your creative juices flow and to encourage you to share some of your artwork with me. If I can share my gift of song, then you can definitely share a canvas with me.”
The notion of sharing my art with another made me feel uneasy. “We’ll see.”
Kai smiled, then took a sip of his hot chocolate.
“Well, before you play, tell me something. Do you write your own material? And if so, where do you get your inspiration?”
“I dabble in writing lyrics. I’m no game changer to the art. But it helps me see things clearer … And I find inspiration all around. My past, my present, my hopes for my future. My songs are like my little secrets, or lines from the diary I don’t actually keep.”
Kai’s words struck a chord with me. His songs were where he kept his secrets, just as my art was where I kept mine. “OK then. Let me hear a Kai Pearson original.”
“I must warn you that when I sing, I sound like a dog that’s had its vocal chords surgically removed.”
“I thought you said you have the gift of song?”
“Well, that was to entice you to hear me play. Plus, the fact that I sing so terribly and am still willing to share with you this thing I love, should prove to you I am a suitable candidate for humbly viewing your art.”
I smiled at him.
“Ready?”
I nodded.
“This song’s called ‘Follow You’.”
I braced myself for the sound I imagined from his description, but what my ears heard wasn’t actually that bad. His singing voice was raw, tender and filled with authentic emotion. He was actually really good. I listened to his every word.
I’m gonna follow you, I’m gonna follow you home
Cause I wanna know you, I wanna know you all
I’m gonna follow you, I’m gonna follow you home
Look at the heart of you, I wanna know you all
All of your secrets and all of the times you’ve cried
Your feeling of misfit and when you’re questioning why
I wish I could follow you, I wish I could follow you all
Make my own wings too, I don’t wanna let you go
I’ll keep my own thoughts of you, yeah I’ll keep them all
You know that I love you, I wish I could follow you
I wish I could follow you home
I kept my eyes on him. I wanted to clap. To applaud his heart-filled performance. But it felt so inconsiderate. I felt like he had shown a part of his soul. Something I hoped he hadn’t done with anyone else. He had just shared a secret. A part of his past in the shape of a rhyme that was up to me to decode. Then maybe he would feel like he could speak to me about himself. Not just the charming things or his unique perspective on life. But also about things that made him sad. His dark side.
“Wow. That was deep.”
We both sipped our hot chocolates.
“It’s not entirely finished yet … I know it needs more work. But that’s what I’ve done so far and …”
“You’re really good. I like the sound of your voice. If that’s what a dog with surgically removed vocal chords sounds like, then I think I have my closing argument to convince my mum we should get a dog.”
Kai laughed.
“Thanks for sharing that …”
His phone rang.
“Ah sorry. That’s my alarm. I’ve gotta get back to work.” Kai jumped from the table. Before I even had a chance to object, he quickly placed a kiss on my cheek. Not that I was going to object, right then. Not in that moment. He shouted from the coffee-shop door. “I’ll text you later!”
The feeling of his lips lingered on my skin. I placed my warmed fingers to my face, holding the kiss there. I didn’t want it to be stolen by the cold.