I love tipsy Neve. No, I adore tipsy Neve. It was her friendly tipsiness, which finally brought us together. I’ve been friends with Flynn for years but hadn’t really paid much attention to Neve until a couple of years ago. All of a sudden, she went from being his mildly-annoying little sister and became this beautiful girl I was completely tongue-tied around. When I found myself keeping her company last New Year’s Eve, whilst Flynn and Cass were up to no good upstairs, it was like meeting her for the first time. She was chatty and funny and sexy and witty and… just everything I wanted. I couldn’t believe it when she returned my kiss at midnight. That was the start of the best year of my life.
Making my brain focus on the here and now, I scoop her up in my arms and somehow manage to get us both across the pebbles to a flat section of beach. She gave up on her shoes a while ago and has been dancing barefoot along the boardwalk, laughing and blowing kisses at passers-by. She has none of her usual inhibitions after a couple of drinks. That public guard, an attempt at rendering her heart-mark invisible, disappears and everyone else gets a glimpse of the girl I know in private.
It’s unbelievable how much difference a small patch of skin can make. Not just to Neve, but to other people, as well. You wouldn’t think they would even see the red, heart-shaped birthmark on her neck, less than a couple of inches across, as it’s usually covered by her hair. But they do. I can feel their response in the way her body tenses next to mine, the way her hand tightens its hold on mine. That’s why I nicknamed it her heart-mark, to make it seem less of an issue; because it isn’t one to me.
With more laughter than elegance, I get us both sat down on the beach, Neve nestled between my legs. The rise and fall of her breasts against my arms as she breathes in the sea air elicits the expected reaction from me, making her giggle and grind herself further back into me. God. I kiss the top of her head and squirm to relieve the pressure in the front of my jeans.
“I love you, Myrtle.”
“I love you, too.” Her head rests back against my shoulder and it’s not long before her breathing deepens. I can feel the beat of her heart through her thin top, and I swear mine syncs with hers.
This is a moment to store, like a photo: a moment to notice every detail of. So that, when this ends, I can look back at it and remember being this happy. I look around me, taking in the hazy waves of the sea and the skeleton of the pier silhouetted against the dawn sky. I smell the combination of the sea air and Neve’s shampoo. I hear the sound of her breathing, underscored by the wash of the waves over the pebbles. I will never forget this.
I can’t ever forget it.
Her.
And, even though I know it has to end, I’m grateful for every minute I have had with her. She has shown me love. She has shown me life.
When we get back home, I will have to focus on the future. Her future. Looking around the university campus earlier proved that. This is the point when our lives take different paths. I have to stay at home. More than my future rests on it. Neve will be here, making new friends, a new life. A life I can’t be part of.
What other choice do I have? Sacrifice Grace and Josh so I can be happy? I promised Dad that I would look after them, and I can’t go back on that. As much as I wished my fucked-up mum was different, that my life was different, it isn’t. That is my reality, not sitting on a beach with the girl of my dreams.
The acceptance of my fate brings tears dangerously close to the surface and I need to distract myself. I pick up a pebble and throw it, aiming for the receding sea. I miss. And again. Scouting for a larger one, I see it: a heart. Her heart. Well, a grey pebble the same shape as her heart-mark. Rubbing my thumb over its smoothness, I know I was meant to find this. I was meant to carry her to this exact spot, sit here and find this.
This way, I can carry her heart forever.