Not Without You

three

Leo

The next morning, the sun breaks over the peaks of the mountains with a vengeance, rays spilling through the obnoxious window and spreading warmth across my face. I try to fight for a few more minutes of sleep, but it doesn't come. With all hope lost, I kick back the covers and get out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

I should be exhausted – after my unfortunate interaction with that girl I met on the street, I stayed up late with Aunty Tenille and her fiancé, Kit, the three of us drinking to our heart's content in honour of my father, despite me being underage. I've never been one to drink, but last night was an exception. Sometimes, when you're swarmed by a wave of emotions that can't be answered, the best thing to do is lean back in your chair and drink until everything feels numb. Which is exactly what I did. Which is also why I should be puking my guts up this morning and suffering from a massive migraine. But I'm not.

No, this morning, I have a surge of energy that can't be explained. The weather could be a major component of my current mood, contributing to the fact that my journey with this bucket list will be a lot easier.

After I've finished my average morning routine, I head downstairs to the kitchen, where Aunty Tenille is dressed in her typical riding gear, hair tied up in a bun. On the countertop are her riding helmet and gloves.

I walk over to where she's standing, in front of the stove, frying up some bacon, and give her a hug. Although Aunty Tenille isn't actually related to me by blood, she's my mom's best friend, one I've known and been close to since before I can remember. There have been plenty of times where she's visited us in Newfoundland over the years, with Kit by her side, but the best memories I have of her include my birthdays. Every year, she bakes me a cake. Inadvertently, it sort of became a tradition. A tradition that, as I got older, became more about everyone reuniting as opposed to just being about me. Which I enjoyed a lot more – I'm not a big fan of the attention being entirely focused on me, and let's be honest here, who likes it when a group of people sings you "Happy Birthday?" It's the most awkward thing in the world.

"Morning, Aunty Tenille," I say.

She leans back and kisses me on the cheek. "Morning, Leo. Did you sleep well?"

I smile, tempted to reach out and snag a piece of bacon.

"Leo Nathan Sangster," she warns. "Don't even think about it. Sit down and I will dish you up when it's done."

I chuckle to myself, loving how Aunty Tenille treats me like she's her own kid – although she already has one to worry. That's right, despite the fact that Aunty Tenille and Kit are getting married this summer, they've been together for years and have already had a kid. Their daughter, Clara Coleman, is three years younger than me, making her fifteen. She's currently in Texas, visiting her grandparents and isn't scheduled to return until a week before the wedding.

"You know," I say, sitting down at the breakfast bar. I reach over and grab a waffle from the plate, tearing a piece off and shoving it in my mouth. "I'm perfectly capable of dishing myself up."