Suicide, Skittles and Skates [✓]

Chapter 08

CHAPTER EIGHT

The sunlight reflecting off the frosty landscape in front of them accentuated the chill of the air. It had been a long time since Alex had forgotten all his troubles and played in the snow like a carefree child. His day had started off bleak and miserable, but suddenly an overwhelming urge to just enjoy himself began to creep up on him.

He looked down at the girl next to him. She was looking ahead of them with an expression he couldn't quite decipher. It looked like a cross between joy and pain laced together. Without even thinking of it, he grabbed her hand to squeeze it comfortingly and pulled her forward, through the entrance and into the very middle of the playground.

Kalila looked around at the familiar sight. She knew this park inside out; every nook and cranny had been memorised, from the peeling green paint of the swings to the fading blue boxes painted on the ground. As much as it hurt her to be here, she also felt happily relieved to finally face this place again after hiding for so long. It was a bittersweet feeling.

They were standing at the top of a small hill, looking through the mist at the untouched snow before them: pristine, perfectly smooth, glittering slightly in the sunlight. The trees lining the park were heavy with white blankets on their branches, the houses in the faraway background looked picture-perfect with white rooftops. Alex picked up his camera and adjusted the settings to take a shot; the scene was so beautiful. When that was done, he carefully put it away in his camera bag and placed it on a bench far away.

Kalila was still standing there, her shoulders drooping with a hint of melancholy. He looked back at the thick pile beneath his feet, crunching satisfyingly with each step. 'Seems a shame to destroy it all,' he thought to himself, smirking slightly as he picked up a handful of snow in a misshapen ball. He looked back at Kalila; her tan cheeks were tinged red with the cold, her dark eyes twinkling as she looked back at him, almost daring him to throw it at her.

Which of course he did.

"Alex!" Kalila's voice was slightly muffled as she wiped her lips and cheek free of snow before it could trickle down further. He grinned but as soon as she bent down to pick up some snow for herself, he stumbled back to avoid it.

"Kalila!" he said, mimicking her voice. The snowball hit his left arm, soaking his jacket. He threw a hand over his face to protect it, staggering back as he tried to pick up another snowball.

Kalila laughed, the sound almost vibrating against the silence of their surroundings. Her laughter turned to shrieking as a lump of snow hit her neck, just under the thick scarf she had on, making goose bumps rise on her bare skin. She turned to run before he could throw more but there was too much snow on the ground and she stumbled, falling face first in the snow. She could hear Alex laughing as he ran over to her, the snow in her ears dulling the noise.

"Shit! You okay?" He chuckled, helping her to her feet. She smiled up at him in answer, wincing slightly at her thoroughly snow-soaked jeans, their normally faded-blue colour now almost navy from the melted snow.

Alex just looked at her. Her hair was messy and all over the place, snow covering her eyebrows completely, the stark white a contrast against her skin. Her eyes twinkled, creasing up at the corners, and although her nose was pink with cold, he thought she looked prettier than ever. Her teeth showed as she smiled up at him mischievously.

He tried to take a step back but it was too late; she had pulled him down into the snow by her side. There was a heartbeat of silence before they both laughed, Kalila with her arms and legs out, moving them rhythmically. He tried to copy her grace but it was no use; he looked more like the windscreen wipers on a car. 'Not quite the look I was going for,' he thought as he stood up to admire his failure of a snow angel. "How is it fair that yours looks like a perfect angel and mine looks like a dead goat?" he asked incredulously as she giggled at his misshapen attempt. He grabbed his camera and took a few more photos before hoisting it over his shoulders and putting his hand out for her to get up.

Kalila couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as she looked at the boy in front of her; somehow he had managed to change the atmosphere that surrounded her from misery to lightness. She never would have guessed she would ever be able to laugh in this park again, not with the pain from the last time she'd been here clouding her memories.

"The only thing missing from today is some hot chocolate," she said, wiping her knees with her hands in attempt to get the snow off.

"I happen to make the best hot chocolate ever, just for the record." Alex boasted, running his fingers through his matted hair as he did so. "I'll make us some while we paint."

---

Before long they were walking into Alex's flat again, clothes dripping, teeth chattering from the aftermath of their snow fight. He found the smallest jumper he owned – a green one with a penguin on it – and an old pair of tracksuit bottoms that had gotten short for him about five years ago. Why did he even still own those? He handed them to Kalila along with a towel, pointing her towards the bathroom before going into his room to change out of his sodden jeans.

Alex may have been useless at cooking but if there was one thing he could make perfectly, it was hot chocolate complete with whipped cream, Cadbury's chocolate sauce, marshmallows and sprinkles. He made two mugs and walked into the living room, where he set out the A3-sized papers and watercolour paints they were going to use for the next part of their Art project.

Kalila skipped towards him, her damp hair swinging against her shoulders. Alex handed her her mug with a smile, trying not to think about how cute she looked in his clothes. She went through the photos they had taken and chose one of them in the snow, a sparkle in her eyes as she looked through them all. Alex decided on the sunset one he had taken of the two of them on the roof of ice-skating rink rooftop for himself to paint. They worked slowly, the atmosphere much lighter than it usually was between the two of them. It was as if a barrier had been broken.

'She's more open to me now,' he mused, wondering why. There was something about her and that park that he couldn't figure out but knew was important. They talked a lot more, Alex grateful for the noise that filled his flat and made it seem more alive compared to usual. He learnt a lot about her as they dabbed paint across the empty canvases: her favourite movies and songs as he smeared the orange of the sky; her wishes and dreams as the orange blended with the blue; about her family and friends as he painted their silhouettes in black.

He stopped for a minute, put down his palette and brush and got up to step back to look at his painting from far away. "Where are you going?" Kalila asked him, momentarily pausing her brush strokes, head tilted to one side in confusion.

"Well, sometimes I get so carried away with the small things that I don't pay attention to the picture as a whole. It's good to stop to see if I got too carried away and ruined it without realising or not... Like life, I guess."

Kalila blinked in confusion. Alex was the ex-football captain of their school. He was polite to teachers, good-looking and insanely popular. From a stereotypical point of view, he should have been shallow and vain due to the number of guys that wanted to be like him and girls that wanted him. 'He's nothing like that though,' she thought in admiration.

"That's pretty deep, Bates." She grinned, stopping to inspect her own work. Although Alex was good at painting, you could see that it wasn't his passion, unlike with his photography. Kalila's work, however, was different. With every brush stroke there was meaning; every curve and line showed emotions. Somehow, she managed to transfer all her feelings into the pictures she drew.

The scene of the snow-filled park was beautiful. The two teenagers in the centre were obviously having fun throwing snowballs at each other; their grins were huge and their eyes sparkled with happiness. But there was more. The trees on the outside towered high, looming over them almost in a predatory way, as though they were watching them. The blanket of snow was white but there was also a subtle hint of blue underneath it – a shade of blue that was so cold, like the lips of a lifeless body, the colour of the ocean before a shark attack, the sky as a hurricane destroyed an entire city in a heartbeat.

There was no doubt about it – her painting was beautiful, but it was also eerily sad. And Alex couldn't help wondering why.