April Short Story

Better late than never :)  Photo prompt and my April short story for the Goodreads YA LGBT group... 

I loved the early morning quiet, the calm stillness before anyone else was awake.  I sat at the kitchen table with my book in front of me, my fingers rested lightly on the text that I wasn’t reading.  Instead I lost myself in memories of family holidays of the past, spent, like this one, at my grandparents’ cottage on a fairly deserted stretch of the North Yorkshire coast. Although they’d been gone for several years and the cottage now belonged to my parents, I still missed them.  I always felt close to them here, even now, with the house full of my university friends rather than family.

Footsteps from the room above the kitchen pulled me back to the present.  I listened to the creak of the hinges as the door to the bedroom I was sharing with Paul opened, followed by the groan of the floorboards in the hallway as he crossed to the bathroom. The boiler in the corner of the kitchen kicked into life, shortly after to be joined by the sound of water hitting the plastic base of the shower unit and the gurgle of the drain.

Smiling to myself I put on the kettle and carefully made a cup of tea, using my finger to gauge when it was full.  Smiling to myself, I told Jess to stay where she lay in her bed by the Aga and headed carefully up the stairs, trying not to spill anything from the mug I carried.

The hot water from the shower had warmed the air on the landing; it felt slightly damp against my skin. Breathing in deeply my nose filled with the familiar scent of the shower gel Paul used. I suddenly wanted more than anything to be wrapped in his arms, to bury my face into the crook of his neck and breathe in the same smell, only mixed more strongly with the smell of his skin. Reaching out with my free hand toward the doorway I was about to move forward when I heard Paul ask.

“What do you want David?” 

“You, I want you.  You can do better than Evan, so much better.” I heard David reply softly.  There was a creak from the bedsprings as he must have lowered himself onto the mattress.  “I could give you much more,” he continued. “We would be so much better together.  Let me show you.”

Tea sloshed over the rim of the mug as I set it down hastily on the window ledge, before backing away quickly across the landing from the room we were sharing. I didn’t wait to hear Paul’s reply. I didn’t want to hear Paul’s reply. I knew what David meant. He was right; Paul could do so much better than me.  David’s words echoed in my head as I stumbled down the staircase, only the tight grip I held on the banister prevented me falling. 

Using my outstretched hand to guide me around the kitchen table I headed to the back door.  As soon as I lifted Jess’ lead off the hook by the door I heard her nails scrabble against the laminate as she raced towards me.  The heavy weight of her body pressed against my knee as I bent to clip it to her harness.

I wanted to run, to get away.  But I couldn’t drive; I couldn’t even ride a bike. I was stuck here. Reliant on others, as I knew I always would be.  David’s words stung as I knew them to be the truth, Paul could do a hell of a lot better than me.  He was strong, whole, and in my mind perfect.  Surely he should expect the same in a boyfriend.  If I had the courage I would let him go, let him have what he deserved.

With Jess at my side I hurried across the garden and out through the wrought iron gate, onto the footpath that led towards the beach.  As we got nearer the shore the surface over which I walked changed from firm grass covered earth to the much softer, and harder to walk on, sand.  The rising wind made the long strands of goose grass that covered the dunes I was now crossing rustle, occasionally I would feel them brush against the denim that covered my legs.

At the crest of the dunes the sand underfoot fell away.  Still moving forwards I staggered slightly with sudden change in gradient.  I had reached my destination, though I hadn’t consciously been heading in this direction.  At the bottom of the slope a weathered wooden bench was set so that it overlooked the sea, sheltered from the worst of the weather the North Sea coastline could throw at it by the surrounding dunes. 

“Go play,” I suggested as I unclipped Jess’ lead.

I listened to her scamper away across the sand towards the water as I lowered myself onto the seat.  The slats of the bench were still wet from the overnight rain and it wasn’t long before I could feel the dampness seep through the seat of my jeans.  I ran my hand lightly over the back of the bench until I found the brass memorial plaque. With the tips of my fingers I traced the familiar names of my grandparents and the dates engraved upon it.  This had been their favourite place. From courting couple to septuagenarians with their grandchildren a good deal of holiday time had been spent in this spot.

Turning to face the sea, I could feel the gentle brush of the spray carried by the breeze. The salinity of it tasting much more dilute than the thin rills of tears that I hadn’t even realised were leaking from my eyes.  In the distance I could hear the shrill call of the seagulls over the fall of the waves on the sand.  Despite the weak sunshine that I could feel against my skin I was shivering.

I don’t know how long I sat there for, replaying the events in our nine month relationship over in my head.  I’d met Paul during Freshers Week. As I’d stood in the doorway to the main hall of the Students Union, Jess on her harness next to me, a bunch of large and loud guys had barged their way through the door knocking me sideways.  I’d staggered, falling against the wall and dropping the hated cane that I had tucked down by my side where I hoped no one would see.  I wasn’t sure if I could find it and was on the verge of abandoning it and turning tail for my room in halls when a voice just in front of me had said quietly, “I think this might be yours.”   

Taking my empty hand he’d pressed the cane back into it.  I’d thanked him politely and expected that to be it, but instead of walking away he took my elbow and started to ask me what societies I was interested in joining.  Paul carefully steered me around the hall, keeping up a steady description of both the stalls and the societies.  Without realising it I was soon joining him in the conversation as we traded questions about the courses we were studying, our families and home life. 

He signed up to the rugby club, climbing club and photography society then, after finding out what I was studying, pestered me into joining the music society.  We both joined the cult film society, discovering we had a shared passion for bad horror movies.  Coming full circle back towards the entrance he steered me towards another stall. When he spoke again his tone had changed, becoming much more serious. Gone was the easy laughter and teasing. 

“I’m joining the LGBT society,” Paul had said almost pensively as he dropped my elbow.  In the chatter around us I would probably have missed the comment altogether had my hearing not been overdeveloped to compensate me for my lack of sight.

“You’re gay?” I’d kept my own voice quiet as I asked, but I couldn’t quite keep my surprise out my voice.  I’d obviously made assumptions about him without realising I was doing it.  Mentally I’d pigeonholed based on his height and build, the clubs he’d signed up for and even the group he’d come in with.  He didn’t respond verbally and I wondered if he’d nodded his head.  “Me too,” I told him, pushing out my elbow away from my body towards him.  As I’d hoped I felt his hand take hold of my arm and steer me towards the stall where we both joined the society. 

Over the first few weeks of term we became good friends.  He was in the same halls of residence and became a frequent visitor to our flat.  We met up for lunch and after lectures to study in the library, sometimes alone but more often with people from our courses or clubs.  He invited me to join him and his friends when they went out, though I drew the line at clubbing where the noise and number of people were too much for me.  Gradually I found myself coming more and more out of my shell as my circle of friends and acquaintances grew.  In my mind it was all down to Paul. 

I’m not sure when I started feeling more for him than just friendship but at the end of our first term a group of us had gone to the Christmas Ball where, rather the worse for drink, he’d talked me into dancing with him.  Held in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against mine as he we swayed to the music I admitted to myself that I wanted him more than as just a friend.

Long after the music had stopped and we’d made our way outside into the bitterly cold December night he’d kept his arm around me.  I was familiar with the campus lay out, so slightly surprised but not alarmed as he guided me not down the path that would lead to halls but rather towards the entrance to the library.  Sheltered in the entrance of the building, his back against the wall said softly.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while now.”  I could feel his breath against my face as he spoke.  I smiled as I tilted my face towards him for what would be my first proper kiss. 

We’d been together as a couple ever since and there was no doubt in my mind that I loved him, but what if David was right, what if he could do better? There was no doubt that parts of our relationship were one sided, with him having to help me in ways I could never reciprocate.  Did he not deserve a relationship with someone his equal?  If I really loved him, I had to try to find the strength I needed to walk away, to give Paul a chance to have what he deserved.

It was only Jess’ bark and the sound of her paws scrabbling across the wet sand towards me that alerted me that I was not alone.  I flinched as a pair of arms snaked around my neck and crossed over my chest.  As he rested his chin on my shoulder the familiar scent identified him before he planted a kiss on my cheek.

“Hey,” he said squeezing my gently with his arms.  “You okay?”  I didn’t say anything just nodded, my cheek scraping against his. “Really?  Only I found my cup of tea on the book case.”

When I didn’t reply he let go of me and I felt him walking round the bench to stand in front of me.  He took hold of my hand and pulled me forwards to my feet.

“Walk with me,” he pulled me towards him wrapping his arm around my shoulder and with our hips bumping started to move along the sand. 

“He’s right you know,” I blurted out as I came to a sudden stop.  “You could do so much better than me.  You deserve someone better than me.”

“Stop it!”

“It’s true though isn’t it? You’d be better off with someone else, someone who.”

“Evan,” he interrupted. His arm lifted from around my shoulder as I sensed him come round to stand directly in front of me.  Taking hold of me by both arms and moving in close to me he continued bluntly, “what is the one thing you hate the most about the assumptions people make about your blindness?”

“That I am helpless, that they think they know....” my voice trailed off and I felt my cheeks warm as I realised that I was doing to him what I hated other people to do to me.

“When they think they know what is best for you without asking, or letting you make your own decisions.” Paul replied for me. “Okay, so let’s get one thing straight.  I want you, I chose you, I love you and I am not swapping you for anyone else.”

His arms came up to wrap around me again as I whispered into his neck, “I love you too.”