Chasing Butterflies Page 6

  I shake my head as black dots start to flash in front of my eyes. “I feel dizzy.”

  “Let’s get you sitting down,” he says, guiding me across the grass towards the edge of the water.

  It’s then that I hear my heartbeat in my ears as sweat bursts out onto my skin.

  “Yara?” he says, sounding worried.

  I open my mouth to speak to him…but then everything goes black.

  He’s so close his breath moves pieces of my hair off my face. My eyes flick open and I immediately feel a fluttering in my chest when I look at him.

  “There you are,” Gabriel says with a small smile. He might be smiling, but his eyes are full of worry and sadness.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper when I realise I’m on the ground. Oh no, I must have passed out. “I guess I haven’t drank enough water today.”

  He nods and then frowns. “You’re right. We should get you home.”

  “No,” I wail. I can’t face Granny, especially not now. She knows I was with Gabriel and that I led him right back to our house. “I can’t go back there. Not yet. Please don’t make me go back.”

  “Okay, okay,” he soothes. “Let’s go get my Jeep and then we’ll go wherever you want.”

  “Not just yet,” I tell him.

  “We’ll just stay right here then, but I think I should get you somewhere in the shade.”

  “Shade sounds good,” I say, letting him pick me up. He carries me like a mother carries her baby until we’re in the clearing, where he lays me down in a soft patch of grass. He squats down beside me and tenderly tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “How’re you feeling now?”

  “Better. Thank you.”

  “What happened to your mum, Yara?” he whispers.

  “She died,” I whisper.

  He pulls me into him and then wraps his big, strong arms around me. I inhale, smelling the washing powder his clothes have been washed in, and snuggle into him. I’ve never been held like this…never felt safe and secure like this. And I never thought I would.

  But being here cocooned in Gabriel’s arms under the warm glow of the late-morning sun feels like heaven. Better than heaven, even, because I can feel my heart thumping in my chest. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to feel that in heaven.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

  It’s the first time anyone has told me they’re sorry that my mum is dead. As his words sink in, I feel each of them plucking at the wall I’ve built up until it completely crumbles. Tears tumble from my eyes and down my cheeks, and I can’t help but squeeze him back with all of my might.

  “It’s okay,” he soothes, moving one of his hands to the back of my head. “Let it all out.”

  All the fibres in all of my muscles crash and burn as years of pent-up grief leak from me. And Gabriel just sucks it all right up. He absorbs my secrets without even realising he’s doing it and pulls them out of me until I’m so weak and sad and empty that I just sob into his hoodie.

  When my sobs die out, it’s so quiet that I can hear the birds singing and the insects chirping. I sniff and wipe my cheeks with my fingers.

  “How did she die, Yara?” he asks gently.

  “She, um…she died.”

  He pulls away from me, holding onto my shoulders, and gently slides his hand around the back of my neck. “I know this is hard for you to talk about,” he tells me, “but I need to know, Yara. I’ve heard things.” He snaps his chocolaty-brown eyes onto mine. “I need to know.”

  The things he’s heard can’t be good and I want to set that straight. I want him to know that I’m not the evil, crazy girl that everyone thinks I am.

  “All I know,” I begin, “is that she killed herself ten hours after I was born.”

  His forehead crinkles into a frown, and then I see confusion wash over his face. “She killed herself?”

  I nod. “I don’t know why. I don’t think there was a note or anything, and Granny won’t tell me anything more.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, gently pulling at my neck until our foreheads touch. “I had no idea.” I take a deep breath and watch him as he closes his eyes. “People say you killed her,” he tells me.

  “I know.”

  “But you didn’t,” he whispers.

  I shake my head. “I was just a tiny baby.”

  “Why does Joanna think it was your fault?” he asks.

  Although I feel like I could tell him everything, I know I can’t. There’s a reason a huge secret haunts my every waking moment, and right now, that feels like the complete opposite of everything he makes me feel.

  “I have absolutely no idea,” I say. “She’s always said it.”

  Chapter 8

  Gabriel

  Wrapping a towel around my waist, I step out of the steam-filled ensuite and walk into my bedroom. I pull on my beige shorts and green t-shirt that has the company’s logo embroidered in gold on the breast pocket. Glancing out of my window, I cringe when I see it’s another cloudless, blue sky. It’s been the hottest summer since 1952—so the forecasters say—and I’m kind of getting sick of it. After ten consecutive weeks of sweltering heat, I’m on the verge of offering up my right arm for a bit of rain.

  I run some gel through my hair, even though I know it’ll have sweated off my head before noon. Then I grab my work boots and head downstairs toward the smell of bacon.

  “Morning, Sunshine.”

  I scowl at hearing my mum’s nickname for me. “Morning, Mum.” I slide onto one of the high stools that surround our kitchen island and watch my mum cook enough breakfast to feed an army.

  “You’re the talk of the village,” she says brightly, flipping the eggs over.

  I roll my eyes though I know she can’t see me. “Great.” I grab an apple and banana from the fruit bowl and push them to one side. They’ll be a perfect snack for work. “I guess we knew my past would catch up with me one day.”

  “They weren’t talking about your past, Gabriel.”

  Oh. “What then?”

  She turns back around to face the cooker and uses a spatula to slide food onto two plates. “Yara.”

  I don’t say anything as I watch her gather the plates in her hands. She strides around the island to me. “You talked to her?” she asks.

  “Yes.” I take a plate from her and drop it noisily onto the counter “Why not?”

  She sighs as she takes a seat beside me, pushing some cutlery into my hands. “She’s not the answer, Gabriel.”

  “I don’t want her to be the answer,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t want her to be anything except herself.”

  She puts her hand on my thigh and taps it gently. “I’m not keen on you spending time with her.” I open my mouth to protest but she holds up a hand, silencing me. “There are enough rumours going around about you.”

  “Do you care?” I fire back. She—of all people—should know that I don’t give a shit about what people say. If I did, I would never have returned.

  “I care that you might care,” she says, her brown eyes looking at me with genuine concern.

  “Well, I don’t,” I say, moving her hand away from my leg.

  She huffs and stabs her fork into a piece of bacon. I know that huff. It’s the huff that means she’s not done talking about this. I munch my way through half of my breakfast before I can’t take it anymore. “Just say it.”

  “I’m not going to say anything,” she protests, looking annoyed and hurt all at the same time.

  I sigh and shake my head. Maybe all this Yara business is getting to me. I’m not normally so mean and short-tempered with my own mother. “I’m sorry,” I tell her.

  She nods in acceptance of my apology. “I still think you should stay away from Yara. At least for a little while.”

  I haven’t seen Yara for four days and I’m glad. She’s no good for me, and I’m definitely no good for her. The other morning when she kissed me while I was asleep was just a little too weird. And what freaked me out more than any
thing was that I wished I hadn’t been asleep.

  I shake my head because I know thinking about doing anything with Yara will get me into trouble. The sort of trouble I should definitely avoid.

  “What’re you shaking your head at?” Mum takes our empty plates and dumps them into the sink.

  “Nothing.”

  “Talk to me, Gabriel. Please.”

  I groan and bury my face in my hands. Why does my life feel like a shitstorm all of a sudden? “There’s nothing to talk about, Mum.”

  My phone silently vibrates in my pocket, but she hears it anyway. “You’d better see who that is.”

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and feel the blood freeze in my veins when I see the picture that’s flashing across my screen.

  “Who is it?” asks mum. “Is it Yara?”

  I shake my head.

  “Then who?”

  “It’s Alex,” I breathe, brushing my thumb over her picture on the screen. I took this one sometime last summer when things were different. Better. I hate how long ago it feels and how far away we are from each other now.

  “Shit,” she hisses as the frying pan slips from her hand and falls to the floor. “Answer it, Gabriel.”

  “I can’t,” I tell her, putting the phone onto the counter with shaking hands. “It’s too soon.”

  “Jesus.” She picks up the phone, jabs the answer button with her finger and pulls the phone to her ear. “Alex, sweetie. Is that you?”

  Three seconds.

  In three seconds, my mum’s skin paled, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Three seconds was all it took for me to realise that it wasn’t Alex on the phone. Three seconds, it turns out, is exactly how long it takes for your heart to crack right down the fucking middle.

  Yara

  I feel the warmth of my breath hitting me in the face as it bounces off my windowpane. I’ve been standing at my bedroom window watching Granny outside cleaning in the dark for the last ten minutes.

  She woke me up about an hour ago when she was dragging the old, battered garden furniture from one end of the garden to the other. Now that the furniture is precisely where she wants it, she’s started to scrub the bricks of the house with a nailbrush. She’s taken an oil lamp and a bowl of water out with her, and she keeps dipping the tiny brush into the water so she can brush it against the wall.

  I step away from the window and walk over to my drawers, grabbing a pair of ripped denim shorts and a white tank top. I pull them on and take a deep breath as I yank my bedroom door open and head downstairs.

  Despite the warm air, my whole body shakes as I step outside the back door. Granny is hunched over the bowl of water, sloshing it with her hands. I swallow and take another step towards her, noticing that she’s only wearing her silk slip. “What’re you doing, Granny?”

  She jumps, knocking some of the water out of the bowl, and I immediately feel bad for startling her.

  “Don’t speak to me, Yara. I told you the other morning after you let that devil boy into our lives that I didn’t want to speak to you. I meant it.”

  I nod. She did tell me that. “It’s been four days though, Granny. I’ve said I’m sorry. Please…”

  “No.” She stands back up and starts scrubbing some more of the wall. The smell of bleach floats in the air around me, and I notice she hasn’t got any gloves on.

  “Granny,” I say with a gasp. “You’ll burn your hands.”

  “They’re already burnt,” she hisses. “Do you not remember the last time I had my hands in a bowl full of bleach?”

  I shudder, hating how the memory jolts right through me. I look out across the garden, watching the trees that sway in the distance while trying not to think about why Granny is out here…or why.

  It doesn’t work. Images are flashing through my mind so quickly that I feel vomit churning in my stomach. This is too much. It’s too similar.

  “I can’t be here,” I wheeze, feeling the panic slither through my veins like fire. “I can’t do this anymore, Granny.”

  “Then go,” she spits. “I’ve never asked you to stay here.”

  I turn and run. I don’t think about what I’m wearing or how late it is. I don’t think about where I’m going or what I’m going to do when I get there. I just run until I can’t run anymore.

  I stop when I’m on the other side of the village—the side the posh people live on. The side where girls carry little dogs in their handbags and are given fancy cars for their birthdays. I start to walk away from the creek and towards one of the houses in the distance.

  After a minute, I feel vibrations in my chest, and when I look up at the house, I realise there are people dancing in the garden and around a hot tub. I hear cheers and laughter as I get closer, and then I start to see people from my school.

  My instinct is to turn around and run away before anyone sees me, but I don’t move. Curiosity grabs a hold of me and keeps me standing where I am, forcing my eyes to roam all over the girls that are wearing pretty dresses as they sway and throw their arms in the air. I guess they’re drunk, which is why they fall into people and shout things louder than they need to. I see guys touching and kissing girls, not worrying about who can see them or how they might be perceived.

  And for the first time in my life, I feel jealous of those girls. The girls that boys want to kiss and touch in front of people. The girls that go to parties and wear sparkly dresses without looking out of place. The girls that I’m sure Gabriel likes to kiss.

  A twig snaps behind me. I turn around and feel a scream die in my throat when I find Jasmine staring right into my eyes.

  “You scared me,” I hiss, taking a step away from her.

  “Good,” she says, stepping towards me. “Get her, girls.”

  What?

  My head swivels in all directions as I see several of her friends emerging from behind the trees. They immediately surround me.

  “We saw you staring at the boys and their naked chests,” she snarls. “Do you want to go to the party? We’ll take you, won’t we, girls? Maybe we can even manage to convince one of those boys to let you lick them.” She giggles and smiles smugly to herself. “What do you say, girls? Would you like to see Yara lick someone’s chest?”

  “Yeah,” one of them calls.

  I shake my head as my whole body trembles. I swear I can even feel my knees knocking together. “I d-don’t w-want to go. It’s fine. I’m just going home.”

  Jasmine pretends to pout at me. “Don’t be a party-pooper, Yara.” She lunges for me, but I dart to the side, avoiding her by millimetres. “Come and have a dance. There’s beer too. I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

  “I’m going home!” I screech as I jump away from one of her friends who grabs for me.

  “Don’t you want to say hello to the nice boys?”

  Please don’t do this. It’ll humiliate me. “No, thank you,” I say as I back away from them further.

  “Fuck this,” she hisses, throwing her cigarette into the bushes beside her. “She’s going to that party. Grab her.”

  I feel a hand tug at my top, but my instincts take over and I kick as hard as I can. My foot collides with something and I hear a huff, but I don’t stop to check who it was I hit. I just run.

  I stumble through some of the bushes and fall to the ground with a huff. I feel blood trickle from the top of my head, but I don’t have time to worry about it when I hear them calling out my name. I push myself to standing, ignoring the pain that shoots down my leg, and sprint away from them as fast as I can.

  I slam into something that’s hard and soft all at the same time, and I’m knocked completely backwards on my bum. Before I can look up to see if I hit a someone or something, I feel warm hands on my cold thighs.

  “NO!” I scream, flipping over. I start to crawl across the dusty ground, but their hands are everywhere.

  “Yara, it’s me,” says a deep voice. “It’s me.”

  I roll over and then quickly stand up. When I turn around, Gab
riel is right in front of me. The relief that washes over me as I realise it’s him and not Jasmine—or one of her friends—makes me feel dizzy. “Oh, it’s you. I need—”

  Gabriel pushes at my shoulders, pressing me against the trunk of a tree. “Shh.”

  Rain starts to gush from the sky. “Oh my god, it’s raining,” I exhale through a laugh. “It’s actually raining, Gabriel.” I want to wriggle away from him and throw my arms in the air and dance in the rain.

  “I know it is.”

  “It’s been—”

  “Stop talking, Yara,” he growls against my ear. I immediately comply, feeling my breath catch in my throat as I blink up at him.

  His whole body is flush against mine, making me instantly forget all about being chased or how scared I was. I forget about the blood that’s trickling down my face. And as I stare into his darkened, stormy eyes, I completely forget what I was about to say or even what I was thinking

  Without saying a single word, he lifts both of my hands and holds them above my head, pinning them against the rough bark of the tree. My eyes are glued to his as he looks up at our conjoined hands. The rain continues to pour down his face and over his throat, making me feel insanely jealous that I wasn’t born a raindrop.

  He snaps his eyes back onto my face and slowly drags his gaze right down to my lips. When he takes a deep breath and presses into me a little more so that every part of him is against me, I let a sigh slip from my mouth. His lips brush over the corner of my mouth as he lets go of my hands and dances his fingertips down my arms.

  Then he slams his lips against mine, making me forget absolutely everything. I move my lips against his and kiss him back, and he groans when I accidentally skim my tongue along his plump bottom lip. I have no idea if what I’m doing is right or not, but if he’s groaning and kissing me back harder, I must be doing it right. What I do know is that Gabriel kissing me is a million times better than when I kissed him.

  When his strong arms wrap around my waist, I move my hands down and place them against his t-shirt that clings to his hard, chiselled chest.