‘Have we?’
I nodded. ‘A long time ago. There was a party. We were – we were drunk. And stoned.’
He nodded, studying the clearing. He dropped my hand and stomped through the muddy ground towards the nearest log and sat down, his head in his hands. I followed him, sat beside him. Eventually, he looked up at me, his eyes empty.
‘I’m so sick of not remembering anything,’ he said.
I longed to reach out and comfort him, but I tried to remember why I was here, the decision I’d made. ‘You will, I’m sure you will.’
He slammed his hand down on the stripped bark of the log and I jumped. ‘You don’t know that,’ he said, his voice angry. ‘Nobody knows that, and it fucking sucks.’
I didn’t speak. Nothing I could say would make him feel any better so I sat and watched my feet, my boots buried in the damp, soft ground, old leaves and branches mixed with tatty cigarette ends and the odd crushed can, long discarded. A faint whistling sound penetrated the tree canopy where the wind was trying to battle through, and the air felt cold here, damp, frigid. I shivered, wrapped my arms around myself. Adam didn’t seem to notice my discomfort. I knew Greg would have.
‘Why did you bring me here today?’ I said eventually.
He shrugged. ‘You said you wanted to see me and I needed to get away from that house.’
‘Right.’
I felt acutely aware of our proximity, of the fact that, even though we weren’t actually touching, the air between us felt alive, electric. I shuffled further away.
‘Happy New Year by the way.’
‘Oh yes. Happy New Year to you too.’ I felt tongue-tied and silly and wished I could just say what I needed to say.
‘So.’ He stopped, scuffed his foot in the mud and I was struck by how different he seemed from the old Adam. Less cocky, less self-assured.
‘So,’ I repeated back at him.
‘I was glad to hear from you.’
‘I wasn’t sure if you would be.’
‘I’m always glad to hear from you.’ He looked at me. ‘It’s not as though I’ve got a lot of friends round here.’
‘No, right.’ I was flustered and annoyed with myself for being so.
‘So, what did you want to talk to me about?’
I continued to stare down at my boots and let the seconds tick by. I’d been so sure that I knew what I wanted to say, that I couldn’t see him any more. Even now, sitting here with him just inches away, I knew it was the right thing to do. The trouble was, I couldn’t seem to make my mouth form the words.
‘Erin?’ He reached for my hand and when he touched me, even through the fabric of the gloves, I flinched as though I’d been electrocuted. He didn’t let go, and eventually I tore my gaze away from the ground and looked him straight in the eyes.
‘I can’t see you any more.’
He nodded but said nothing, so I stumbled on.
‘I – I don’t think I should spend any more time with you. Like this, just me and you. It – it’s wrong.’
‘Because of Greg?’
‘Of course because of Greg!’ I could hardly concentrate on his words, all my thoughts trained on the feeling of my hand cupped inside his. I stared at his mouth.
‘Sorry Erin. That was a stupid question.’ He licked his lips. ‘I just wish things were different.’
‘I know.’ My voice was a whisper. ‘Me too.’
He dropped my hand and the air between us felt cold, the wind whipping in to fill the spaces where his fingers should be. I shivered again.
