I nod slowly against the pillow and reach up to stroke her cheek. Maya circles my wrist with her hand and gently kisses each finger. My hand slides down her neck, her chest, comes to rest against her breast . . . Suddenly I can feel my heart.
Maya is watching me intently, her eyes very bright in the shadows. I can hear my breath, hot and heavy, suddenly acutely aware that all that separates our two bodies is a cotton nightie, a thin T-shirt and underwear. I run my hand down her ribs, across her stomach, towards her bare thigh. Maya leans forward. Taking the bottom of my T-shirt in her hands, she begins to raise it, slowly pulling it up and over my head. She then reaches down and pulls off her nightie. I emit a ragged gasp. Her body is perfectly white, in sharp contrast to her hair, almost fiery in the moonlight. Her lips are a dark pink, her cheeks lightly flushed, and her eyes bluer than the sea – watchful, uncertain. The colours and contrasts overwhelm me. My gaze travels down over her, taking in the upward curve of her breasts, the taut skin of her stomach, the long slender legs. I could stare at her for ever. I can make out the ridge of her collarbone, the peaks of her hips. Her skin looks so smooth I long to kiss it. I want to feel every part of her but my hands tighten against the sheet.
‘We can touch each other,’ Maya whispers. ‘Just touch each other. There’s no law against that.’
Reaching out, she gently runs her finger up my stomach, across my chest and into the curve of my neck; cupping my cheek in her hand, she leans forward to kiss me. I close my eyes, and with trembling hands, stroke her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. Circling her with my arms, I pull her gently back down against the pillows and slowly, tentatively, as if afraid of hurting her, begin to trace my fingers down her body . . .
I awake with a start to find myself alone in Maya’s bed, but the house around me is silent. A scrap of paper bearing my name is left beside me on the floor. After reading it, I fall back against the pillows, staring up at the cracked ceiling. Last night feels like a dream. I can’t believe we spent it together, naked, our hands stroking each other’s bodies; can’t believe I actually felt her naked form press against mine. At first I was scared we might get carried away – might cross that final, forbidden barrier, but just touching each other was so incredible, so powerful, so thrilling, it took my breath away. I wanted more, of course I wanted more, but I knew that, for now, this would have to be enough.
I am jolted out of my reverie by the slam of the front door, the sound of a school bag being dropped to the floor, followed by softly creaking footsteps on the stairs. The bedroom door inches open, and I pull myself up against the headboard as Maya’s face breaks into a smile. ‘You’re awake!’
She bounds over to the window and throws open the curtains, and I rub my eyes against the bright morning light. I yawn and stretch, waving the note she left me.
‘Maya, what were you thinking? We can’t just skip school.’ The reproach in my voice fades as she jumps onto the bed beside me and gives me a cold kiss.
‘Eek, you’re freezing.’
She collapses beside me, the back of her head hitting the wall with a thud, squashing my legs with hers. ‘You didn’t have anything important on today, did you?’
‘I don’t think so . . .’
‘Good, well, me neither.’
I take in her flushed face, the wisps of hair framing her face, her school uniform. ‘You pretended to the others you were going to school and then just came home again?’
‘Yes – as soon as I saw Kit go through the gates, I turned back! You didn’t think I was gonna give you the day off alone, did you?’ She gives me a wicked grin. ‘Come on, you awake yet?’
Shaking my head, I raise my hand to my mouth and yawn again. ‘I don’t think so. How come I didn’t hear the alarm?’
‘I turned it off.’
‘Why?’
‘You were sleeping so deeply, Loch. You’ve been looking so knackered. I just couldn’t bear to wake you—’
I start to smile, blinking at her sleepily. ‘I’m not complaining.’
‘Really?’ I watch her face light up. ‘We have the whole day to ourselves!’ She gazes up at the ceiling in delight. ‘I’m going to get changed, and then I thought we could make pancakes and then we could go for a walk and then—’
‘Wait, wait, wait. Come here first.’ I reach for her arm just as she is about to roll off the bed.
‘What?’
‘Come here!’ Still squinting slightly against the light, I tug at her wrist. ‘Kiss me.’
Maya laughs and obliges, sliding back down beside me. Slowly I unbutton her shirt and she wriggles out of her skirt. Ducking beneath the warmth of the duvet, I start tracing a line of kisses down her body . . .
She is standing naked in front of the open door of her wardrobe when I return from the shower and it takes her a moment to notice me hovering in the doorway, watching her. She turns, meets my gaze, and blushes. She reaches out for the crumpled sheet at the end of her bed and wraps it round beneath her arms. The white material swirls around her feet, making me smile. I pull on my underwear and join her by the window, kissing her cheek. ‘I do.’
She looks at me questioningly and then down at the sheet before breaking into giggles.
‘In sickness and in health?’ she asks. ‘Till death us do part?’
I shake my head. ‘Way beyond that,’ I say. ‘For ever.’
She takes my hands and leans in for a kiss. It hurts. Suddenly everything hurts and I don’t know why.
‘Look at the sky,’ she says, resting her head in the crook of my neck. ‘It’s so blue.’
And suddenly I do know: it’s because everything is so beautiful, so wonderful, so utterly glorious – yet it cannot possibly last, and I want to preserve this moment for the rest of my life.
I wrap my arms around her and press my cheek against the top of her head, then notice the bracelet against her white wrist, the silver glinting in the morning sun. I reach down and touch it.
‘Promise me you’ll always keep it,’ I say, my voice unsteady suddenly.
‘Of course,’ she replies instantly. ‘Why wouldn’t I? I love it. It’s the most beautiful thing I own.’
‘Promise me,’ I say again, running my fingers over the smooth metal. ‘Even if – even if things don’t work out . . . You don’t have to wear it. Just keep it hidden somewhere.’
‘Hey.’ She tilts her head so that I am forced to meet her eyes. ‘I promise. But things are going to work out. Look at us – they already have. You’re about to be eighteen, and then next month I’ll be seventeen. We’re nearly adults, Lochie, and once we are, no one will be able to stop us from doing what we want.’
I lift my head, nod and force a small smile. ‘Right.’
I see her expression shift. She leans her forehead against my cheek and closes her eyes as if in pain. ‘You have to believe it, Lochie,’ she whispers. ‘We both have to believe it with all our might if we want to make it happen.’
I swallow hard and grasp the tops of her arms. ‘I believe it!’
She opens her eyes and smiles. ‘So do I!’
This is the definition of happiness: a whole day stretching out ahead of me, beautiful in its emptiness and simplicity. No crowded classrooms, no packed corridors, no lonely breaks, no cafeteria lunch, no droning teachers, no relentless ticking clock, no counting down the minutes to the end of yet another dreary day . . . Instead we spend it in a kind of joyous delirium, trying to savour every moment, enjoy to the full our bubble of happiness before it bursts. We make pancakes and mess about with the strangest combinations of fillings: Maya wins Most Disgusting with her combination of Marmite, cornflakes and ketchup, which has me gagging over the bin. I win Most Artistic with frozen peas, red grapes and Smarties on a bed of mayonnaise. We close the curtains in the front room and cuddle up on the sofa. Sometime in the early afternoon Maya falls asleep in my arms. I watch her in slumber, tracing my finger across the contours of her face, down her neck, over the smooth white shoulder, down the length of her arm, along each of her fingers. The sun pours in through the hastily drawn curtains, the clock on the mantelpiece ticks its relentless countdown, the thin needle making its way mercilessly round and round the face. I close my eyes and bury my face in Maya’s hair, trying to shut out the sound, desperate to stop the precious time we have together from running through my fingers like sand.