A Love Left Behind

Chapter 14 - Somewhere Inbetween

A year is a long time when you're fifteen.

At least, that's what I thought.

At that age, twelve months could change everything. Friends disappeared and new ones took their place. People who had been inseparable suddenly stopped speaking. Someone got a girlfriend on Monday and was heartbroken by Friday. Teachers talked about our future as though we were supposed to know what we wanted from it.

Rose and I somehow remained.

Not in the way people might imagine.

We weren't together.

We had never kissed. Never held hands. Never promised each other anything.

She lived almost ten thousand kilometers away.

I lived in Germany.

There wasn't much we could do about that.

So we became part of each other's ordinary lives instead.

Rose knew which teacher I hated. She knew when I had an exam and when I'd done badly enough that I didn't want to talk about it. She knew when Dad and I had argued and when Chloe was having one of those days when everyone in the house seemed to choose their words carefully.

I knew when Alice was angry with Kaelob. I knew when Rose had stayed awake too late studying. I knew which relatives annoyed her and which ones she secretly loved even while complaining about them.

Sometimes we talked for hours.

Sometimes all we sent each other was a photograph.

Sometimes we didn't talk at all.

Then one of us always came back.

There were other people too.

Of course there were.

I went out with a girl from school for a while.

Her name was Sophie.

She was pretty, funny and liked me enough that my friends couldn't understand why I didn't seem more excited about it.

I didn't understand either.

There was nothing wrong with her.

That was the problem.

There was no reason not to like her.

We went to the cinema twice. We kissed once after a party. She held my hand when we walked to the train station.

For about three weeks, I thought maybe this was what having a girlfriend was supposed to feel like.

Then Rose called me one evening.

I was lying on my bed when her face appeared on the screen.

“You look terrible.”

“Nice to see you too.”

“I'm serious.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled.

Then she noticed something.

“Where were you?”

“Out.”

“With?”

I hesitated.

Rose's expression changed.

It was tiny.

So small I might have imagined it.

“With Sophie.”

“Who's Sophie?”

“A girl from school.”

“Oh.”

That was it.

Oh.

I waited.

Rose looked away from the camera.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You're doing the Chloe thing.”

“What Chloe thing?”

“Saying nothing when something is obviously something.”

Rose rolled her eyes.

“I don't care who you go out with.”

“I didn't say you did.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

We stared at each other.

Then she said, “Is she pretty?”

I laughed.

“Why?”

“I'm asking.”

“Yes.”

“How pretty?”

“What does that even mean?”

“Forget it.”

“No. You asked.”

“I don't care anymore.”

I was still smiling.

Rose noticed.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“That face.”

“What face?”

She ended the call.

I laughed so loudly that Chloe shouted from the hallway for me to shut up.

Two minutes later, Rose messaged me.

Rose: I hate you.

Me: Jealous?

The typing dots appeared immediately.

Then disappeared.

Appeared again.

Rose: In your dreams.

I stared at the message longer than I should have.

Sophie and I stopped seeing each other a week later.

Not because of Rose.

At least, that was what I told myself.

Rose had her own life too.

There was a boy named Miguel who started appearing in her stories more often than I liked.

I never asked about him.

That would have been ridiculous.

Then one evening she mentioned casually that he'd asked her out.

I was sitting at Mum's kitchen table.

Me: And?

Rose: And what?

Me: What did you say?

She took far too long to answer.

Rose: Maybe.

I put my phone down.

Mum looked up from the other side of the table.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

She looked at my phone.

Then at me.

“Rose?”

I stared at her.

“How do you know?”

Mum smiled.

“You're not as mysterious as you think you are.”

“There's nothing happening.”

“I didn't say there was.”

“She lives in the Philippines.”

“I know.”

“We're friends.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Mum laughed quietly.

“Because you're explaining something I didn't ask about.”

I hated when adults did that.

Mum went back to what she was doing.

Then, after a moment, she said, “You know, you don't have to decide what someone means to you immediately.”

I looked at her.

“I don't.”

“Good.”

She didn't say anything else.

That was one of the things about Mum I appreciated more as I got older.

She could push.

She could control.

She could make decisions for everyone in the room when she thought she knew best.

But sometimes she also knew exactly when to stop.

She had given Chloe and me more than most children ever had. Not only materially. Mum had taken us everywhere. She had shown us cities, cultures and places far beyond Germany. She wanted us educated, independent and curious.

She expected a lot from us.

Especially from Chloe.

But she loved us.

There had never been any doubt about that.

Maybe that was why I never understood why people expected me to choose between her and Rea.

They weren't competing for the same place in my life.

Mum was my mother.

There was only one.

Rea was Rea.

And somehow Rose had become something else entirely.

Something I still didn't have a name for.

By then, Chloe was twenty.

She spent less time at home and more time building a life of her own, although I wasn't sure she knew what she wanted that life to look like.

Her perfectionism hadn't disappeared.

If anything, she'd simply become better at hiding it.

She could walk into a room looking completely put together while I knew she'd spent an hour changing clothes because nothing felt right.

She could receive an excellent result and immediately explain what she should have done better.

People admired her.

They had no idea how exhausting it was for her to be Chloe.

Sometimes neither did I.

Her relationship with Rea remained exactly as complicated as it had always been.

There were good days.

There were terrible days.

And there were days when Chloe behaved as though Rea didn't exist.

Nobody fought about it anymore.

Maybe we'd all become tired of fighting.

One Sunday, almost a year after our first trip, Dad asked us to come over.

Rea was cooking when Chloe and I arrived.

“You're both late,” Dad said.

“Two minutes,” Chloe replied.

“Seven.”

“You counted?”

“Yes.”

“That's sad.”

I laughed and dropped onto the sofa.

Something about Dad seemed different.

He was trying not to smile.

I knew that face.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I looked at Chloe.

She looked at him too.

“What did you do?”

Dad looked offended.

“Why does everyone assume I did something?”

“Experience,” Chloe said.

Rea came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl.

“Just tell them.”

Dad looked at her.

“You said I could.”

“I've changed my mind.”

“Dad.”

He smiled.

“We're going back.”

I knew immediately.

Still, I asked.

“Where?”

“The Philippines.”

Something happened inside me.

It wasn't dramatic.

My heart didn't stop.

The room didn't disappear.

I simply sat a little straighter.

“When?”

“Summer.”

“How long?”

“About four weeks again.”

“And Alice?”

Rea smiled.

“She already knows.”

I tried not to ask the next question too quickly.

“And Kaelob?”

Chloe looked at me.

Dad nodded.

“Yes.”

I waited.

Nobody said anything.

Finally Chloe sighed.

“And Rose, Damian. Rose will also be there.”

“I didn't ask.”

“You were about to.”

“I wasn't.”

“You absolutely were.”

Dad laughed.

Rea turned away, but I could see her smiling.

I looked at Chloe.

She was smiling too.

For a second.

Then something in her expression changed.

It happened when Rea said, “Alice wants us all to travel together again. She already has some ideas.”

Chloe's smile disappeared.

Not completely.

Just enough for me to notice.

There it was again.

That invisible line.

Rose was fine.

Alice was fine.

The Philippines were fine.

Until somehow they became Rea.

I didn't understand why Chloe couldn't separate those things.

Maybe she couldn't either.

But for once, she didn't say anything.

“Four weeks?” she asked.

Dad nodded.

Chloe looked at Rea.

Then at me.

“Okay.”

That was all.

For Chloe, perhaps it was.

For me, it wasn't.

That night I waited until I was alone before messaging Rose.

Me: Heard some news.

She answered almost immediately.

Rose: What?

Me: Germany is getting boring.

Rose: It was always boring.

Me: So I might have to leave for a while.

There was a pause.

Then:

Rose: Damian.

I smiled.

Me: What?

Rose: Are you coming?

I waited deliberately.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Rose: DAMIAN

I laughed.

Me: July. Four weeks.

Nothing.

Then my phone started ringing.

Rose.

I answered.

She didn't even say hello.

“You're serious?”

I smiled.

“Hi to you too.”

“Damian.”

“Yes.”

Her entire face changed.

And suddenly the year between us felt very small.

“When?”

I told her.

She started talking immediately. About places we could go. Things Alice had already mentioned. Something Kaelob wanted to do.

I barely listened.

I was watching her.

Rose stopped.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You're staring.”

“No, I'm not.”

“You are.”

I smiled.

“Maybe I'm just looking.”

She went quiet.

I remembered saying almost exactly the same thing to Rea a year earlier.

Rose looked away for a second.

When she looked back, she was smiling differently.

Neither of us said anything about it.

We still had months before we'd see each other.

We were still just friends.

At least officially.

But for the first time, I started wondering what it would feel like to stand in front of her again instead of seeing her through a screen.

And somewhere almost ten thousand kilometers away, I think Rose was wondering the same thing.