Chapter 17 - Us
1537 Words
The morning after I kissed Rose, I woke up smiling.
For a few seconds, I didn't know why. Then I remembered the beach. Rose looking at me. Her hand against my neck. The way she'd laughed when our first attempt at kissing had gone slightly wrong.
My phone vibrated.
Rose: Awake?
Me: No.
Rose: Good. Stay asleep.
Me: Why?
Rose: Because last night was embarrassing.
I smiled.
Me: Which part? The first kiss or the second one?
The three dots appeared immediately.
Rose: I hate you.
I was still smiling when Kaelob walked past the open door. He stopped, looked at me, then at my phone. “No.” I sat up. “What?” “Whatever that is.” “I have no idea what you're talking about.” “That's my sister.” I laughed. Kaelob didn't. At least not for three seconds. Then he grinned. “If you make her cry, I'll kill you.” “You're very dramatic.” “I mean it.” “I know.” He started walking away, then stopped. “And Damian? Try not to make it weird.”
Too late.
Breakfast was worse. Rose was already at the table when I came downstairs. She looked at me. I looked at her. We both looked away. Kaelob watched us with the expression of someone who had just been given free entertainment. Alice noticed too, of course, but thankfully said nothing.
Later, Rose pulled me away from the others. “We need to talk.” “That sounds serious.” “Damian.” “Okay.” She crossed her arms. “What are we doing?” There was that question again. “I don't know.” “That's not an answer.” “I know.”
Rose sighed. “We live in different countries.” “I know.” “And you're leaving again.” “I know.” “You have a terrible vocabulary.”
I smiled, but she didn't.
I took her hand.
“I could tell you distance doesn't matter, but it does. And I don't want to promise you something I don't know if I can do.”
Her expression changed.
I'd spent my childhood watching adults make promises because they were afraid of what would happen if they didn't. Dad had promised Mum things. He had promised Rea things. Sometimes those promises contradicted each other. I'd learned early that saying something didn't make it true.
“But I know I don't want to pretend I don't like you,” I said.
Rose looked at me.
“A lot.”
Finally, she smiled. “I like you too.”
“A lot?”
“Don't ruin it.”
I laughed. “So what does that make us?”
“I don't know.”
“What do you want it to make us?”
She stared at me. “Why do I have to decide?”
“Because you're the one asking.”
“You're impossible.”
“You like me.”
“Unfortunately.”
I kissed her.
This time there was no hesitation. When we separated, she was smiling.
“Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“We can be together.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for your permission.”
She pushed me.
I kissed her again.
And somehow, without either of us really knowing what we were doing, Rose became my girlfriend.
The days afterward were easy.
We traveled, swam, ate too much and argued about music. Rose stole one of my shirts and refused to give it back. Sometimes we walked behind everyone else so we could hold hands without Kaelob making comments. During long drives, she rested her head against my shoulder. At night we still messaged each other from different rooms, even after spending the entire day together.
I had known Rose for more than a year, but being with her every day taught me things a screen never could. When she was genuinely angry, she became quiet instead of loud. She worried about Alice more than she admitted. She and Kaelob could fight like they hated each other and defend each other five minutes later.
One afternoon, Alice received a call while we were eating. She stepped away from the table.
Rose watched her.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“You're looking at your mum.”
She shrugged. “Family stuff.”
“What kind?”
“The boring kind.”
Alice returned a few minutes later as though nothing had happened. Rose did the same.
So did I.
Some moments only become important when you look back at them.
Chloe had been watching me too.
She never said anything about Rose and me until one evening when she found me sitting outside alone.
“Where's Rose?”
“With Alice.”
Chloe sat beside me.
“So you're together.”
“Apparently.”
“Apparently?”
“Rose decided.”
A small smile appeared on her face. “Sounds healthy.”
Then it disappeared.
“You don't like it,” I said.
“I didn't say that.”
“You don't have to.”
Chloe looked toward the house. “Rose is nice.”
“You've said that before.”
“Because she is.”
“Then what's the problem?”
For a moment, she said nothing.
“Chloe.”
She looked at me, tired rather than angry.
“I don't have a problem with Rose.”
I waited.
“That's what makes it worse.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
“You clearly do.”
She sighed. “Dad chose Rea.”
I immediately understood.
“Chloe—”
“I'm not blaming you. It's just… for years Rea was Dad's life. Not ours. Mum was our family. Dad was our family. Rea was outside of that.”
“She isn't outside of it.”
“I know.”
The words came too quickly.
Chloe looked down.
“I know.”
Maybe she'd known for years. She just hated knowing it.
“And now there's Rose. And Alice. And this place. And you love being here.”
“I do.”
“I know.”
“You like it here too.”
“I do.”
“Then what are we talking about?”
Chloe laughed quietly. “I told you. It's stupid.”
I finally understood.
“You think liking Rose means I'm choosing Rea.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
She sighed. “Maybe a little.”
“I love Mum. Nothing about Rose changes that.”
“I know.”
“Nothing about Rea changes it either.”
That one hurt her. I saw it.
But she didn't become angry.
“I know that too.”
For a while, we sat quietly. Then Chloe rested her head against my shoulder.
She hadn't done that in years.
“I hate growing up,” she said.
I smiled. “You're twenty. Bit late.”
“Shut up.”
I put my arm around her.
For those few minutes, she was just my sister again. Not Mum's defender. Not Rea's enemy. Not the perfect Chloe everyone expected her to be.
Just Chloe.
And I loved her.
Nothing Rose could ever become to me would change that.
Maybe Chloe simply needed time to believe it.
The days kept passing.
One evening, Rose and I sat near the water while everyone else was farther up the beach. She traced small circles across the back of my hand.
“Two weeks.”
I looked at her. “What?”
“You leave in two weeks.”
Until then, I'd known I was leaving, of course. Flights had dates. Holidays ended. Germany was home.
But somehow I'd stopped counting.
“Don't.”
“What?”
“Count.”
“I can't help it.”
I squeezed her hand. “We still have two weeks.”
“And then?”
“We do what we've been doing.”
“Calls?”
“Calls.”
“Messages?”
“Too many.”
She smiled.
Then she became quiet again.
“Don't forget me when you go home.”
The words were so soft I almost didn't hear them.
“Rose.”
“I know. Stupid.”
“No.”
I turned toward her.
“I'm not going to forget you.”
“You said you don't make promises.”
“I don't make promises I can't keep.”
She looked at me for a long moment.
“And you can keep that one?”
“Yes.”
This time I didn't hesitate.
Rose kissed me.
Behind us, our families were laughing. The ocean moved quietly in front of us, and for those few minutes, ten thousand kilometers didn't exist.
There was no Germany.
No leaving.
No question of what would happen when we grew older.
There was just Rose.
And me.
Us.
Years later, I would remember those weeks differently. Not because they were perfect, but because there had been a time when loving Rose hadn't cost either of us anything yet.
A time when the hardest thing between us was distance.
We had no idea how lucky we were.
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