We’ve finished our exams for the year, and we’re ready for high school. I have something to tell the boy, and I know he won’t like it one bit. It’s about where I’ll be heading after the summer holidays.
I keep putting it off, distracting myself by soaking up the magic of spring, rushing around town, eating ice cream, letting Billie Holiday’s perfect voice carry from the open windows of the music room out to the garden, where it mingles with our giddy voices and the splashing of water in the pool. I tell the boy I love Lady Day more than any other singer. He says that’s very girly of me, even if he loves her too, but he says he prefers the raw feel of the bluesmen.
I watch films with the boy and with my other new friends, both downstairs at home and at the movie houses in Memphis. I dream of the life waiting for me just around the bend, and I swim away in fantasy and poke my head out of the water to soak up the beauty of my real life here. I hardly think of Tom these days, but when I do, it still hurts like hell.
One day, the boy and I are out in the pool, and I know I really ought to tell him now. I don’t want to. I am not sure whether it is because I don’t want to leave him, or because I am afraid he will hate me for what I have to say.
“I’m so glad you have this!” he shouts from the diving board at the deep end of the pool before cannonballing in.
“I know.” I say, adjusting my bathing suit on a lounger in the shade. “It should be obligatory for everyone to have access to a pool.”
My heart is in my throat. I cannot put it off any longer. “Take courage, Birdie.” I tell myself.
I call for him to come sit with me, “I have something to tell you.”
He is underwater and doesn’t hear me. When he resurfaces in front of me, he grins. “What’s up, sugar plum?” He splashes water in my direction.
“Stop it,” I laugh.
He spits a stream of water at me. “ What is it? You’re makin’ me nervous.”
“Come.” I say.
“Alright.” He hauls himself out, shivering a little but pretending he is not. He flops down next to me, shielding his eyes from the sun.
“I can’t believe we’re startin’ high school next semester.”
“Yeah,” I say, the nerves visible in my voice. “About that…”
I take a breath, softening my tone as I tell him I am off to boarding school next term. I apologise, heart sinking. I have had this dream before, leaving him. It is always a nightmare.
His head snaps towards me. “You’re kiddin’.”
“No.” I whisper.
“You can’t just leave me!”
He is being dramatic. We have our first proper argument, volleying back and forth.
“I will not stand for this!” I hear myself shout mid-fight.
Being teenagers is surprisingly exhausting. We both end up crying, staring at the water without anything to say. It’s getting darker and the sun has been captured behind the clouds.
Miss Mary steps outside with a tray, senses the mood, and quickly retreats back to her fortress.
“Why’re you goin’?” he asks, sniffling, turning towards me. “Don’t you love me? Don’t you love it here?”
“Well,” I say, “I do. But I can’t stay here for my formative years. I have to see the world.” I put my arm around him and hug him tightly, as a clumsy confirmation of my continued affection. He isn’t buying it.
“But why?” he yells as he pulls away.
I laugh without meaning to, he reminds me of Scarlett O’Hara in his determination, and I cannot help it. But it’s the wrong move, and I regret it. I try to recover, but do it badly.
“Because if I stay here, I’ll just end up a provincial dumbass, and you don’t want that for me, do you?”
He freezes. “So that’s what I am to you?”
“No! No, you’re not a dumbass.”
He glares. “Well, you said it.”
“None of us are dumbasses, you’re not listening,” I say. “But I need to go to a different school. I need to spread my wings. I need to fly. I need to learn, baby, learn!”
I have not noticed, but I have started dancing my speech across the lawn.
He stares in silence. I know I am being insensitive, but sometimes I am like this. Impulsive. Forgetful. The boy is the same. Only, he is never unkind. Not like I can be. Not like I am now.
“I have to go,” he says.
“Don’t!” I plead, “Please stay.” Tears start afresh.
I am only now realising how I am coming across to him.
“I don’t want to,” he says, equally teary. “I don’t even like you right now. Maybe I will again tomorrow. Maybe not. Who knows.”
“I’ll come home for the holidays.” I say, I tell him the plan was always for me to go to boarding school next year. He has known this since the beginning.
He shrugs with a sniffle. “I need you here every day. Not just sometimes.”
He is stiff now. Hurt. I chase after him and place a hand on his shoulder.
“Honey,” I say. “Please look at me.”
He will not.
“You’re bein’ cruel,” he says, voice cracking.
“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry. But I need you too.”
“You do?”
“Of course!” I am overwhelmed by a sudden preemptive grief.
“I gotta go,” he says. “I wanna be with my mamma now. Not you. You let me down today.”
“I’ll come get you with Miss Mary tomorrow morning,” I half demand as I watch him walk away. “We’ll go on an adventure together.”
“Fine.” he calls back, not looking.
“See ya! Wouldn’t wanna be ya!” I yell dramatically.
He yells back, “Smell ya, shouldn’t have to tell ya!”
I watch him disappear through the kitchen door and a moment later I hear him leave through the front door on the other side of the house, and the tires of his bicycle roll down the drive as he rides home to be with his mamma instead of me.
Something cracked today, and I don’t have endless time to repair it before I go, and that worries me.
What if he never forgives me?
What if I’ve already lost him forever?
My novel GREAT ARE THE MYTHS will be serialised (one chapter each day) over the summer of 2026. If you would rather listen to the audiobook, the full story is available for free on all the usual platforms. Info and links HERE
My World of Interiors 