The Boy With the Cigarettes in his Pocket

9: "One Day, This, Us, Will All Just Be A Memory,"

"My Dearest Allie. I couldn't sleep last night because I know that it's over between us. I'm not bitter anymore, because I know that what we had was real. And if in some distant place in the future we see each other in our new lives, I'll smile at you with joy and remember how we spent the summer beneath the trees, learning from each other and growing in love. The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds, and that's what you've given me. That's what I hope to give to you forever. I love you. I'll be seeing you. Noah."

- The Notebook (Movie 2004)

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The last few days were, well, to be honest, torture. The thought of Jamie being so near, but yet I was unable to reach him, drove me crazy. My parents wouldn't let me leave their sight. They even put me to bed at the same time as them to make sure I didn't sneak out. Once, while in my room at night, I went to open the window.

"Don't do it," Charlotte said.

"I really, really want to,"

"Don't... Just don't, Robyn. Please."

I closed the window again and crawled under my covers without saying another world. That was the last time I tried to escape.

I wanted the last week of my holiday to be spend with Jamie, instead of hiding from him. Dad and I barely spoke, and it's safe to say he never called me 'Ro' again. Every time I looked at Mum she looked disappointed in me. The only person on my side was Charlotte, and even she acted like I was a dog under her care. Even then I had no regret for what I did.

"Wanna go for a swim?" Charlotte asks as we sit by the pool.

"I don't know," I reply, fiddling with a bow on my bikini bottoms.

"Come on, please,"

'Please' is the only word Charlotte seems to say these days. I look over to the pool. "There's a lot of children,"

She looks at me, raising her eyebrows and pouting her bottom lip in a way I find extremely irritating.

"Fine," I say, giving in.

We spend 20 (awful) minutes just splashing about and wasting time. I finally convince Charlotte to let me get out. I lie down on the bed to dry off.

"Can you believe this is our last day?" Mum says, "This holiday has gone so fast!"

"It was a really good one this year, wasn't it, Charlotte?" Dad asks.

"Yeah," Charlotte answers.

Nobody asks for my opinion on the subject. I wonder if it'll be like this when we get home. It's almost like they've unofficially disowned me. They know I'm here they just kind of choose not to acknowledge my existence; almost like I'm a lamp or a picture on the wall. I play along and don't speak to them, because I know they don't want me to.

I guess there's no sympathy for me, not really. I brought this on myself, it was my mistake, so surely I should live with the consequences. And, honestly, I'm fine to be punished, I just don't want to be punished now, not when my time with Jamie is so limited.

I put my earphones in and put on my music on an attempt to drown out my thoughts. But the majority of songs on my iPod seem to be love songs, and that really doesn't help at all.

Soon the sun begins to set and my family decide to go back to the caravan. On our way we pass the shop and Dad says he needs to go in to get some instant coffee. Because I'm not trusted on my own, Mum and Charlotte wait outside with me instead of going in too.