The Boy With the Cigarettes in his Pocket

Epilogue

I enter the gates of the campsite far too familiar to me. My Dad clutches the steering wheel of the rented car tightly, he never trusted Spanish drivers. We pass through the campsite; children running around as if our car didn't exist, and their parents frantically chasing after them; smoke rising from barbecues on people's patios; footballs, tennis balls and volleyballs thrown about the place; and a person belonging to every race you can think of. Soon we reach the unfamiliar caravan.

"Feel good to be back?" Dad asks, taking my suitcase and dragging it up the patio.

"I guess," I reply, too busy remembering the week I just spent in Marbella with my friends.

There were eight of us. We rented an apartment and went clubbing almost every night, spending the day on the beach, recovering from a vicious hangover from the night before. It was great, especially as it helped me forget about my break-up with my boyfriend I'd had for a year.

The deal was that I was allowed to go on holiday with my friends (as some of them are 18) for a week if I spent the week after that here with my parents. I'm not sure why they chose to come here again - as we didn't even go on holiday last year - but I won't complain.

We enter the caravan and Mum is in the middle of making lunch. I say hello, and greet her with a hug, before passing on through and into my bedroom to see Charlotte.

"Hey!" I cry, flinging myself down on the spare bed.

She takes her earphones out and smiles. "Hi, how was Marbella?"

"Fantastic!" I beam, "Although I'm still hungover, I think."

"Don't tell Dad,"

"It might bring back bad memories."

Charlotte shakes her head, as if in disbelief. "It doesn't feel like that was two years ago,"

"No," I say, diverting my attention to picking off my navy nail-polish, "it's doesn't."

"I hope I meet someone,"

"Like who?"

"Like Jamie, of course! Have you forgotten him already?"

I reach up to feel the beaded peace necklace that's hidden beneath my top. Of course I haven't forgotten him. Even the smell of this place reminds me of him. For months after summer two years ago, I would think of him every night before I went to sleep - without fail. It wasn't until my friend set me up with one of her friends I actually forgot about him. Everyone asked what was the significance of the peace necklace but I never told them. I never spoke of Jamie to anyone.

"Have you ever been in love since Jamie?" Charlotte asks.

"I wasn't in love with Jamie, I was just 15 and gullible," I answer, embarrassed at myself for saying that back then.

"But you were, you just won't admit it. Just because you're 17 now doesn't mean you know so much more than you did when you were 15, you just think you do. Just because you're 15 doesn't mean you can't love someone, Jesus Christ."

I look at Charlotte, at just 13 she seems more grown up than I'll ever be. Her hair has been cut short into a pixie cut, highlighting her high cheek bones and crystal blue eyes. There's no doubt that she's beautiful. Not only that, but she's smart, one of the smartest in her class. The thing I love most about her, however, is her good hearted nature and her ability to speak her mind without being ignorant. I have no doubt that I will envy her for the rest of my life.

She looks back at me, her thin lips pressed into a line, waiting for me to answer.

"I'm sorry," Is all I can think of.

Charlotte shrugs me off, and puts her earphones back in. I blow upwards on my face almost like a sigh. Great, I think, I've already pissed someone off this holiday. To keep myself busy, I hang up a few pieces of clothing, smiling to myself at the fact they're two sizes bigger than the last time I was here.

Ten minutes later Charlotte says, "So do you want to go to the pool?"

I smile, "Sure!"

~*~

Charlotte and I walk through the campsite, hair dripping onto our bikini tops and down our backs. I don't feel self-conscious anymore as I am finally happy with the way my body is, so I don't feel pressured into covering up with baggy t-shirts.

I finally have curves - me, with curves! Something that seemed almost impossible just two years ago. I have a waist, and a chest that doesn't make me look like a 12 year old girl. Feeling "comfortable in my own skin" is the best thing that's ever happened to me.

As we pass the supermarket I say, "Do you want to go in and get a drink? I have change."

Charlotte agrees and we walk in. The supermarket hasn't changed the slightest bit, and I even notice that the signs above the aisles are written in English as well as Spanish. We head to the drinks aisle, and Charlotte immediately picks up a bottle of Pepsi.

"What are you getting?" she asks, and I predict she's growing impatient.

"I can't decide between Fanta Exotic or Fanta Lemon," I answer.

I tried Fanta Exotic in Marbella and it was the best thing ever, even better than Fanta Lemon, but I couldn't help but want a Fanta Lemon for old time's sake.

"Why don't you go and buy some Cheetos for us? I have enough." I say to Charlotte, feeling her impatience grow.

Charlotte leaves as I ponder over my decision. Eventually, I chose Fanta Lemon, just for the sake of it. I pick it up and turn around, but when I do I crash into someone.

"Sorry..." I say, my voice trailing off as I look at him.

He has brown shaggy hair, that's long enough to cover his forehead, and is very tan. His eyes capture me at once, and for a minute I'm almost lost in them. He's wearing a camp rep uniform for one of the travel companies, and scruffy white Converse. In his shirt pocket is a packet of cigarettes.

Smiling, he reaches towards me, brushes his thumb along the peace necklace that was once his and says,

"I was beginning to think I'd never see you again."

~*~the end~*~

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okay so officially finished my second story! I just want to say thank you everyone who has read it, and those who have voted, and those who have commented. I even got messages on tumblr saying about it and that was pretty cool! Hopefully you will enjoy my future stories too, and give them just as much appreciation. I'm very grateful for someone even to see the title and be interested.

My next story is going to be a little darker. It'll kinda be like showing the less-appealing side to high school. Other like the stories that focus on prom and first dates this'll be about drugs and abuse basically. Here's the basic jist of it (some details are still a bit undecided eg names and appearances):

In With the Ron Crowd: Mila Rivers is a freshman in high school. On her first day she is introduced to the impossibly beautiful and insanely popular, Lydia Ron. Mila seems to get on with Lydia's group of seniors just fine, regardless of her inability to speak to anyone in her classes. It doesn't take her long to realise that the grass isn't always greener on the other side, and soon enough, she's trapped in a world of sex, drugs and abuse.

(Not the official description.)

So, a final vote and comment for The Boy With the Cigarettes in his Pocket? Please, please, it would mean a lot! And hopefully you'll read In With the Ron Crowd when I put the first part up :-)

Endless appreciation,

Catherine<3