Hamish's P.O.V
'You know, I sometimes think the sky can tell us the future. Like certain weather types mean something good, or bad, or happy, or sad will happen.' Spencer settles next to me on the log and unwraps his sandwich, pulling a face. 'Eurgh. Peanut Butter. I keep telling Joe to stop making these.'
I jump back slightly (I'm proper allergic to nuts). 'It's fine, I can go-'
Spencer chucks the sandwich into the forest. 'Dude, no. I'm not ditching my friend just to eat a crappy sandwich.'
I smile at him and he smirks back, grabbing one of my crisps. 'Oi!' I try to sound pissed off but I can't stop the smile on my face widening and quickly look away as he leans further into me so our arms are touching. It's freezing cold but he's only wearing a t-shirt and I can feel his biceps through my sweater.
Spencer and I have been friends since January, three months ago. I went with him to the grief-counselling thing and after that we started hanging out all the time.
He started skipping lunchtimes with Saph and his mates to eat with me. At first we went to the cupboard where I used to hide but soon we ventured into the woods behind Keenwood because the cupboard started smelling and it was proper cramped. Last month we found this stream, and if you crossed it there was a cave with some logs and stuff outside it, and we've been coming here ever since.
I have never been this happy. I haven't cut in three months.
Spencer slides down the log so he's sitting on the floor. 'How's William? And your parents?'
I sigh. 'God, Spence, it's awful. He remembers my Dad, everything about my Dad, but he can't remember anything about anyone else. Not Papa, not me or Saph, no one. And his bloody girlfriend is refusing to go and see him because it's too 'emotionally traumatising'. Then the press found out and they're camped outside the hospital everyday and the newspaper headlines are all, 'William Holmes Wakes From Coma' or 'William Holmes Permanently Brain-Damaged'. It's impossible. And I'm having to take Jacob to all his modelling things and adverts and shit because everyone else is too busy trying to jog Will's memory and I hate going to the modelling things. And we're not allowed to tell him what really happened because it may make him freak or something.'
'It'll get better, mate, I promise.' Spencer says quietly, staring up at the sky, before closing his eyes. I look up at the sky, a dazzling blue that is not appropriate for March, then back across at Spencer and I cannot look away. Spencer is lounging back against the log, t-shirt and jeans tightly fighting, his brown eyes fixed on the sky and his hair scruffy. He matches the weather perfectly; beautiful with a sharp edge.
'Don't stare at me, I'm thinking.' He says without opening his eyes. I jerk backwards and swallow nervously. 'Um-'
'Joking, Mish. Just joking.' He opens his eyes and smiles lazily at me and the feeling of content builds up in my chest until I feel like it's about to burst.
He looks me up and down before turning around so he's facing me. 'Have you ever played 21 Declarations?'
'Of course.' I scoff. Everyone's played 21 declarations. Me and my friends used to play it all the time before-
'Shall we play?' he says.
I raise one eyebrow. 'Sure.'
Spencer clears his throat and starts, '1, 2, 3.'
'4.' I say confidently.
'5, 6, 7.'
'8, 9.'
'10, 11, 12.'
Damn it.
'13, 14, 15.'
'16, 17, 18.'
'19, 20.'
I sigh. '21.'
Spencer smiles mischievously. 'Excellent.'
I think for a moment before glancing at him. 'I had an older brother.'
Spencer looks confused. 'Yeah, William.'
'No, another one. He was called Jonty.' Saying his name aloud seems strange, taboo, forbidden. 'He died, when he was eighteen, in Afghanistan in August two years ago, four months before William, um, the whole thing with William happened.'
Spencer looks horrified. 'Mish, I'm so sorry.'
I shrug. 'I was thirteen. He had been on tour since I was eleven and honestly? I was upset and all but I'd never been that close with Jonty. He was a bit preppy for me, you know? It was Will who was broken up about it. They'd been dating, at least, Saph said they were dating-'
'What?' Spencer now looks disgusted. I hide a smirk. 'They weren't related. Jonty's Papa's biological son, Dad and Papa got together at Papa's wedding to this lady, um, Marge or something, and obviously Papa ditched her at the altar. Dad found Jonty a couple of years later by accident. Will is Dad's biological son and was the result of a one night stand with a woman called Irene Adler. Will came to Dad two weeks after he was born.'
Spencer looks surprised. 'God. Messed up.'
I shrug. 'It was never weird. Will and Jonty were always really, really close. Anyway. Your turn!'
Spencer looks thoughtful. 'Ok, my last name isn't really Narom. It's- ok. It's a long story. So you know how I live with my Da- well, at his house, cause he's always away on business-'
'Yeah.'
'My Da did some work with my Mam, right, about four years before I was born, and after the work was done she had to get far away, and she went to Ireland. Da kept an eye on her: she was a wanted woman in, like, every country in the West, but originally she was American. I was conceived when he came to check on her one time when Joe was four and Jiles was three and she was allowed to bring me up Ireland. It was stressful: we had to move house all the time when people, her enemies, found her. I changed names so many times, Mish, it was unbelievable.'
'What was your Mum's name?' I ask curiously.
Spencer laughs. 'Her real name is Amelia Adrian, but she had so many names. When we were in Ireland she was Natalia Narom. But she had other names: Beryl Bernard, Christina Charter, Jenny Jucksaw, Mary Morstan...the list goes on. I had so many names. But when I turned eight, Da came to find me and bought me back here.'
'So what's your real last name?'
'On my birth certificate, it's Spencer Adrian, but my Da changed it to his last name instead. But I like Spencer Adrian.'
'Me too.' I say softly.
He smiles at me.
And I realize I'm leaning forwards.
And I look down at his lips and back at his eyes and he is wearing an unreadable expression on his face that makes me want to-
'Spencer?' Saph's voice runs through the wood and we both jerk back. Spencer stands up, looking awfully flustered. 'I need to-'
'Yeah, I get it.' I stand up as well and brush myself off, busying myself collecting my stuff.
Spencer is looking at me. 'We'll finish our game later, right?'
I nod enthusiastically. 'Yeah, it was fun.'
'I need to go.' Spencer turns around and I notice his lunchbox on the floor. Quickly I reach down, pick it up and step forwards...right over the log.
I fall on the floor.
'Hamish! God, are you ok?' He's kneeling next to me and I can feel blood on my head and wince as my fingers probe it. 'Uh, yeah.'
'Jesus, you're bleeding-'
I pull myself into sitting position. 'I'm fine, seriously.' I squint at him as I realise I've dropped my glasses. 'Damn it, Spencer, my glasses.'
I cannot see without my glasses.
I'd be lost without my glasses.
I feel the leafy floor, hoping to encounter the plastic, but my hands just meet dirt and sticks. 'Can you help?'
'Yeah.' I can hear him moving around and suddenly his voice comes back triumphant. 'Found 'em!'
I reach out for them but instead he slides them onto my face for me.
I adjust them...and he is right in my face.
Inches away from me.
I blink once, hardly daring to breath.
And he leans forwards and kisses me on the lips.
It's soft, and slow, and my first kiss, and I'm kissing Spencer Narom, my sisters boyfriend, and my head is pounding and my heart is racing and I might faint with how happy I am right now-
'SPENCER!' Saph shouts. I can hear footsteps nearby.
Spencer pulls away, looks at me once and stands up, scurrying into the trees, not looking back.
I put my hand up to my lips and touch them gently before flopping backwards onto the crisp brown and green ground, staring up at the sky.