Chapter Nine: My Recycled Soul by Lynette Ferreira
He smirks. “I have lived here my whole life, and I hate it.”
I wait for him to explain himself, but he goes back to staring at the waves rolling onto the beach and, so it seems, lost in his own thoughts again. I turn away from him, feeling insulted. He moves his fingers resting on his arm closest to me, and his fingers brush against my arm softly. This time I am sure it is intentional, because it lasts longer than a moment. He starts to draw circles on my arm, his fingers barely touching my skin, floating just above it. The resident butterflies in my stomach rebel brutally.
I glance at him sideways, questioningly, but he only smiles,
while returning my gaze. I get the impression he is daring me to make the next
move. For a moment, I consider moving my arm away, but then I decide
impulsively to enjoy the moment.
Except for Sarah, who ignores me completely, and Jared, who
is looking out across the ocean, while tracing the side of my arm with
feather-soft movements, we all laugh and talk about school, films we have seen,
books some of us have read, music we listen to, our favourite colours and food.
I am sure if they did not already know me before this, they now certainly did.
Hours later, a fine misty rain starts falling over us
and we all get up disappointed, stretching and shaking sand from our clothes.
A shiver unexpectedly runs through my body, and Jared turns
toward me, asking softly, “Are you cold now?”
“Yes, I am,” I say laughing, while rubbing my hands up and
down my arms.
“Here.” He takes off his jacket, and then standing behind
me, he helps me to slip my arms in, one at a time. The jacket wraps me in
Jared’s warmth. Leaning into me, he says, “In Ireland, you never, ever leave
home without a jacket.” Pulling my back closer to his chest, he leans his head
over my shoulder to pull up the zip of the jacket. It takes all my
concentration to keep breathing.
Jane walks by and says, “Or an umbrella.”
“Oh yeah, that too.” He laughs softly, his breath whispering
along the skin in my neck. Moving away from me, his lips brush fleetingly
against my ear.
I close my eyes for a second to compose myself, and then I
take a determined step away from him. I follow the others back to the parking
area. My whole body is entirely aware of Jared walking only a few steps behind
me.
When we get to the parking area, everybody is still in good
humour, despite the drizzling rain. There is a lot of pushing, bumping and
laughing going on. I stand slightly separated from them and it is my intention
to sit in the back with Jane, so that Aaron can get into the front passenger
seat. Sitting so close to Jared all evening, while he was tracing lazy patterns
on my bare arm has made me feel self-conscious, and I did not want him to think
I am jumping to conclusions, claiming the front seat as my own.
I walk toward the Jeep and open the back door. Just as I
take a step to lift myself onto the back seat, Jared is beside me. He circles
his arms around my waist, hugging me close to him, and lifts me off the ground
as he carries me to the front passenger door. He sets me down, opens the door
and smiles, while indicating with a small bow for me to get into the car.
A rush of heat scurries up my cheeks as I get into the front
seat.
I suppose I can object, but did I really want to?
While Jared walks around the Jeep, I quickly buckle myself
in.
As he gets in, he grins. “I don’t mind doing that for you. I
find it quite enjoyable.”
There is an unexpected chokehold around my throat as I try
to swallow, so I only manage to smile bashfully.
What is wrong with you, Elizabeth?
Jane and Aaron get into the Jeep, and then I hear Connell
hoot twice and drive off, while Jared starts his Jeep.
We drive straight to Jane’s house, and this time it is only
Jane and Aaron laughing and joking, while both Jared and I stare out of the
front windscreen silently.
I know I should be saying something, but I also know that if
I open my mouth only gibberish would pour out from between my lips, so I keep
my lips tightly shut.
Jane lives in the village and when we stop in front of her
house she leans over and kisses Aaron on the cheek. She then pats first me,
then Jared on the shoulder and gets out of the car, with everybody saying,
“Bye, see ya later,” at the same time.
We drive off with Jane standing in her doorway, waving at
us.
Looking back at her, I wonder if Jane likes Aaron. Maybe she
is just feeling sorry for him and the kiss on the cheek was maternal, maybe
even protective? I remember her relief weeks ago when I said I was not
interested in a relationship with Aaron, and then the way she sometimes looks
at him when she thinks no one is looking at her.
All the happy energy left when Jane left, and all that
remained is an awkward silence, so the atmosphere in the car is starting to
feel unbearable.
Jared switches on the stereo and after pushing a few
buttons, a song by David Gray starts to float through the car, soft and
melodious.
I look out the window at the dark houses passing by and
smile to myself listening to the words of the song. The lyrics ‘be mine, be
mine’ strike me as ironic.
Once we drive out of the village, I notice we are driving in
the opposite direction of where my manor is, and Aaron says from the back,
“Jared, why are you doing this?”
“Aaron, please, not now,” Jared replies brusquely.
“No. Why are you dropping me off first?”
“Aaron, could you please just let this go for now, we can sort it between us later.”
I notice Jared glaring at Aaron in the rear-view mirror, and I hear an irritated, exaggerated sigh come from the back, but no one says anything further.
