Authors: Annmarie McQueen
“I
didn’t mean to,” Sean muttered in defence.
“I didn’t know she could sense me as well, it’s not like anyone else can.”
Drew just shook his head in frustration before returning his attention to the girl beside h
im. “Hey, don’t be scared.
Trust me, w
hatever it is it’s perfectly safe.
” he nudged her arm and offered a comforting smile.
“So you know what it is, then?”
she asked suspiciously.
“I didn’
t say that. I just meant
-”
“It w
as the same for you, wasn’t it?
Before the accident, you told me
you were having weird dreams. That you were hallucinating.”
“It was nothing. They’ve sto
pped now, just a lack of sleep
.”
Her expression was
wary
. “You’re lying to me again.” She bit her lip, as if she wanted to tell him something else, but decided not to at the last minute. “Do you believe me?” she as
ked abruptly
.
Drew nodded. “I do.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I believe you.”
She hesitated for a
long moment
,
and then seemed to deflate. “
I guess I’ll just have to settle with that much for the time being. You don’t have to tell me right now. I’ll
trust you, like I always do
.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,
maybe you’re
just feeling a bit paranoid after-
”
“Ye
ah, I’m probably
just going mad,
”
she deadpanned, not letting Drew finish his sentence.
Then she
let out a tired sigh and
rested her head on his shoulder. Drew did not push her off like Sean had expected him to, instead he tentatively
put an arm around her
and there was a small, genuine smile on his face.
“Guess we’re both pretty crazy, huh?”
he said.
She chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
And, seeing them like that together, it made something inside Sean ache.
It was like that day back at the beach.
Maybe it was his non-existent heart, he really didn’t know. But whatever it was, it was a distinctly human emotion and it was this fact that reminded him
of
who he was. Or, who he had once been. Now Drew had become him, and he was no one. Even Ali an
d hi
s brother, the people who he was closest to,
preferred Drew. Was there even a point in trying to get his body back anymore?
It was peaceful for a long while. In the school the bell for the next class rang, but it was a distant sound and school suddenly seemed like something very trivial and insignificant compared to everything that had happened to the three of them, Sean mused. School was only a small part of life, and life itself was pretty trivial because while life was temporary, death was apparently eternal. Who knew what happened to Imprints after they finally
faded out. It was a question no one could answer unless they experienced it themselves.
“Are you hungry?” Drew asked
Ali suddenly
. He reached into his school bag and took out a sandwich, breaking open the packaging. Ali, not looking at him, shook her head mutely. “I know you are,” Drew continued. “You’re holding your stomach.”
She blushed slightly, quickly moving her arm away. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” he said
firmly
. He held out the sandwich to her. “Eat. It’ll make you feel better.”
“No thanks, I’m fine. Really.”
He shook his head. “Now who’s the one keeping secrets?”
“I just need to lose a little more weight
,” she mum
bled, not looking at him.
“Al,” he tried. She still refused to meet his gaze. He gently tilted her chin up until their eyes met. “Ali. I know what you think, and I know what you’re doing, but it’s not true.
I like you right now as you are, and I don’t want you to change.”
“Do you think
I’ve already changed?
”
He nodded. “You never used to care about s
illy things like this before
-”
“It’s not silly,” she tried, but he quickly cut her off.
“You’re right, it’s not silly, it’s
stupid.
It won’t help you, it won’t make you happier.”
“You sound like Liz,” she chuckled slightly.
“She’s worried too, you know.”
Ali nodded guiltily. “I know, but she shouldn’t worry. I’ve been a terrible friend to her, I just don’t know how to make things right again.”
“You could start by apologizing. And then eating something.”
“I thought you already knew, I’m dieting. I can’t.”
Drew smirked, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “You really put the ‘die’ back into ‘dieting’ you know.”
She didn’t answer, looking away again, pointedly ignoring the sandwich.
“We should go back in, we’re already late,” she said instead.
“Not until you eat at least half this thing. We’ll share, okay?”
She finally relented and turned back to face him, her eyes anguished as if screaming
‘please don’t make me do this
’ but even Sean could tell that her body’s protests were winning out against her mind. “You won’t…think I’m disgusting, will you?” The question caused Sean that same, tingling ache again. For one wild moment, he wished more than anything
that
he was in Drew’s place so that he could help, instead of just watching and being utterly
useless.
It was like what had happened at the party all over again.
“I would never think that,” Drew tried to sound calm, but there was an undertone of anger in his voice.
Not directed at her though, Sean realised.
“
Just eat it, please.”
She only hesitated for one more second before finally obliging and accepting the sandwich. A single tear tracked its way down her cheek as she ate, slowly and cautiously, until the whole thing was gone. Drew found a second sandwich and followed suit, trying
to smile to reassure her
.
“I couldn’t have done that,” Sean said quietly
when both sandwiches were gone
.
By now the
strange
and sudden
ache
had
receded and a relieved calm filled its place instead, pooling throughout his empty thoughts. “I think you just hel
ped her more than I ever did. T
hank you.”
A small, barely visible smile was the only indication that Drew had heard him.
Chapter 12
:
City lights
“So, tell me what it’s like here. You’ve lived here all your life, right?”
“
Yup.
It’s pretty boring, really.
Well I think it’s boring.
”
“So what do you find interesting, then?”
“Nothing.”
“That makes you sound like a pretty boring person, you know.”
“I know. Most people generally stop talking to me around this point.”
“That’s
kind of
sad.”
“Not really. I’m used to it.”
“I haven’t left yet, though. And I don’t think you’re a boring person to be honest.”
“Why? You barely know me.”
“I can
just
tell
. I like you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why
, I just do.”
“So do you go around just
‘liking’
everyone who says hi back to you
or something
?”
“Not everyone. I’m actual
ly rather picky about who I choo
se to like.”
“So then why choose me?”
“I’ve already sai
d
haven’t
I? You’re different, and I
like it.
Period.
”
“Okay. Am I expected to say ‘I like you’ back now or something?”
“You don’t have
to;
I know I’m being a bit forward and all.”
“Right, so I’m just stuck with you then?”
“Well, if you put it that way, then yes.”
That had been one of
his first proper conversations with Ali, back when
she had
joined his school
in year nine. He could suddenly re
member that day very clearly
; the glint of her braces in the sun, the dusting of freckles on her face, the way her eyes shone brightly. Always shone brightly. When had they stopped shining like that?
She had pretty much forced friendship upon him. She followed him around, chatted continuously, and always wore that same smile. It had annoyed him to hell at first and so many times he wanted to tell her to just
“piss off and get out of my life”
but at the same time, he didn’t feel as lonely around her. And as annoying as she was, compared to loneliness she was by far the better option. Over time he got used to it, even liked her company, and she became part of his routine. Despite his barriers that had previously protected him from the world, she managed to get to him. It was inevitable that she would eventually, but back then the thought had terrified him. Another
more recent
memory
surfaced, the way sodden cornflakes
rose
to the surface of milk.
“It gets hard, sometimes
,” he’d said. There was
rain, drenching them.
They’d both forgotten an umbrella that day.
“Not being able to remember, I mean. I
’m not even sure who I am, or who I used to be. It’s frustrating.”
Then suddenly she was holding his hand and smiling
sadly
, eyes
shining like they always were.
“
This
is who you are, Sean. I know it’s hard, but just keep moving.”
“Moving where?”
“Forwards.”
“How can I move forwards if I never started from anywhere?”
“Then why don’
t you start from here
.”
She’d always had a way with words. She knew what to say and when the person she was with needed to hear it.
She
had always been the strong one out of the two of them, not him. It was always h
er urging him to keep going, not the other way around. But that had been years ago. Since then, she’d changed. She’d lost some of her originality, something Sean suddenly missed dearly. He’d never imagined a situation where she would be the one needing
help;
the one needing to be told which way was forward.
He had always relied on her definition of forward, and maybe even now he still did.
It was a Sunday morning. Sean was oddly aware of this fact as he watched sunlight peek through the dusty curtains of his room, all bright and cheerful and intrusive. He remembered that Sundays were supposed to be special. Well, that’s what his mother would always say. And she was right. But both Hayden and him had silently agreed that it would not be very manly to admit it.
His mother always cooked a huge feast of a breakfast on Sundays – heaps of pancakes, eggs, bacon. It was all very extravagant. She always made sure to not have a hangover on Sunday mornings. Hayden had said once that it was her way of apol
ogising, for not acting like a mother the rest of the time.
Something about pretending to be a normal fa
mily at least once a week
. And while Sean thought it was all rather petty – this act of normalcy and happiness and serenity – he couldn’t help but crave it at the same time. He looked forward to Sundays. Because even though it was only for a few hours, even getting lost in the illusion was enough.
By now Drew had gotten used to the Sunday routine. Sean watc
hed as he got up with the alarm, put in contact lenses
and traipsed downstairs in his
pyjamas
,
trying to quell the
jealousy
that threatened to bubble to the surface. He couldn’t remember ever missing his old life as much as he did right now. Following Drew down, he stared wistfully at the fried eggs that Hayden was heaping onto his plate and the French toast that was his favourite.
“Good morning,” his mother chirped from the frying pan, and for a moment Sean felt his heart jump, thinking that she was talking to him. But of course not, it was Drew, not him. Drew returned the greeting with a smile and sat down, rubbing at his eyes.