THE TROUBLE WITH PAPER PLANES

She took a few moments to think about it. “I don’t know. It seems kind of… magical.”

 

“Magical?” I turned to her, intending to rib her good-naturedly, but the faraway look on her face threw me off. I was suddenly hot and bothered, and I knew it had nothing to do with the unseasonably warm summer night.

 

“Oh God – that sounds stupid doesn’t it?” She grimaced. “Ignore that. I can’t think of the right way to explain it.”

 

I gave her a small, indulgent smile and tried my best to recover. “It’s fine, take your time. It’s not a test, I’m just curious.”

 

She glanced over at me again as I fought hard to keep my expression neutral. The truth was, I found myself enjoying talking to her out here, in the semi-darkness, with the warm breeze teasing us. It was crazy, and it was the complete opposite of what I thought I wanted, but there you have it. I kept telling myself I could get up and walk away at any time, if it got too weird.

 

But I didn’t move.

 

Oblivious, she continued. “It seems like a metaphor, for life. I mean, skimming across the surface of the earth, not getting caught up in stuff you can’t explain. Being in control, rather than letting it control you… ” She shrugged self-consciously. “Or something like that, anyway. I don’t know.”

 

She was right. And she was intuitive. In some ways, she reminded me of Bridget.

 

“I liked ‘magical,’ personally.”

 

“Are you making fun of me?” She smiled.

 

“Not at all,” I chuckled, sitting forward again. “But you do realise you just gave me an intimate insight into your psyche with that answer?”

 

She looked flustered and I wondered why. I was only kidding. Mostly.

 

“I’ll teach you,” I said, from out of nowhere. “If you still want me to?”

 

She grinned, the first genuine smile she’d given me. She had little crinkles in the corner of her eyes.

 

And dimples.

 

 

 

 

 

MAGICAL, SHE’D SAID.

 

 

I don’t really know what I expected her to say, but that wasn’t it. And what unnerved me even more was her explanation of wanting to be the one in control. It had struck some long-buried chord deep within me, one she couldn’t have even known was there, simply because I didn’t know it was there.

 

The more I thought about it, the more anxiety pecked away at me. What the hell had possessed me? I’d spent my entire life trying to straighten things out, make them simpler and uncomplicated. And yet here she was, a tangle of question marks, and she had me jumping in without even bothering to properly think things through. I wasn’t impulsive – that was Vinnie’s domain. I was the sensible one, for God’s sake. And none of these feelings remotely resembled sensible.

 

I tried to talk myself down from the ledge, rationalising it. She seemed genuinely keen to learn how to surf, and it was something I could do well, and enjoyed. It made sense, didn’t it? I was doing her a favour, and I was doing Bridget a favour, and God knew, I owed her enough, after all she’d done for me. I was doing the right thing here. And besides, familiarity breeds contempt. The more time I spent with her, the more differences between her and Em I was likely to see. That would make things a whole lot easier.

 

Standing in the kitchen doorway last night, the light illuminating her from behind, she’d looked so much like Em that I’d almost given myself a heart attack. It wasn’t her fault, and it wasn’t fair to avoid her just because of it, either. She didn’t deserve that, and as I stood at the kitchen sink, watching the morning sun glittering on the harbour, I was determined to put all that behind me. If I was going to do this, I had to make a real effort. None of the half-hearted shit I’d become famous for lately.

 

It was just surfing lessons, after all. It wasn’t a marriage proposal.

 

When I opened the door to her shortly afterward, she stood in front of me wearing a pair of red shorts and the same white lace-trimmed singlet from last night. The straps of her red bathing suit were clearly visible beneath the singlet and, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help but wonder what that bathing suit might look like on the rest of her. Two pieces or one?

 

“Hi,” she smiled shyly. “By showing up here exactly on time, I’ve probably forfeited any cool points I might’ve had, but I’m really keen to get started. Does it show?”

 

I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Just a little bit. Come on in.”

 

She was enchanting, and completely oblivious to what that was doing to my insides. In a blinding flash, I realised something.

 

She knew nothing about me. I knew nothing about her. It was a fresh slate. I could be anyone I wanted to be. I didn’t have to be the bereaved boyfriend or the pitiful loner. I could reinvent myself. It was an intoxicating thought.

 

She stood in the hallway, waiting, her hands clasped behind her back like an impatient schoolgirl.

 

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