Until it was time to go

feathers

For the next two weeks I spent every day at the beach with my new friends and we repeated the same thing over and over again every day as I read a chapter of my book to Shawn, before going out on the surfboards for a while, each time going a little further and further out. Then we would come back to the beach and sit around in a group and sing and play the guitar until it was time to go home.

Shawn always sat beside me and helped me in and out of the water. Every time I looked at him I felt butterflies in my stomach and I found myself laying awake in bed at night thinking about what we had been doing during the day and the way he smiled at me. As my cheek pressed against the pillow, I remembered how smooth his skin was.

But eventually it was the last day of my holiday and everyone was a bit quiet and sad at the beach that day. Debbie and Rose were staying for another week, while I had to catch the train home early in the morning. We sat around and sang songs as usual, but they were somehow softer and slower than normal. Someone decided to go for a walk to the headland, but I couldn’t go up the steep path because of my broken leg so Shawn stayed on the beach with me while the others went.

I was glad of the chance to have a last quiet moment together and when everyone had disappeared down the beach I pulled a piece of paper out of my bag. I had been working on some lyrics so that Shawn could finish his song and I started to sing to him.

 

‘Can you imagine being back at school?
Would you still break all the rules?
Or would you just be acting the fool?
Maybe you’d be way too cool,
If you were ever back at school.
 
Could you imagine starting again?
Maybe this time we’d still be friends,
You’d be smiling, I’d have my zen,
There would still be moments when…
If we could start all over again.’

 

He sat there stunned and then pulled out his guitar and we sang the whole song together. The music from his guitar was so beautiful and our voices blended so well together that I felt like we were angels singing in heaven. Shawn closed his eyes when he sang and he looked so serious and cute, but then he opened them and saw that I was looking at him. He stopped playing and put his guitar down and leant forward and hugged me.

‘I’m going to miss you so much, Molly.’

‘I will write to you every day, Shawn.’ I had hoped for something more, but the hug was nice and we held each other for ages until the others came back and it was time to go.

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