My thudding heart starts to slow.
‘When the crowds die down, maybe we should head to The Lakes or something. Just somewhere quiet where we can get our heads down and think,’ he suggests.
‘Okay.’ I nod, avoiding his eyes.
‘I doubt the others will join us. Probably having too much fun.’
‘Yeah.’ My voice sounds tired and flat. ‘Shall we go? It looks quieter now.’
He agrees, and we head toward the exit together.
‘We could go to The Lakes hillside? It’s not too far from here and it might be nice to get some space,’ he offers.
‘Sounds good.’
The evening breeze feels cool on my skin, but I can still feel the adrenaline in my chest stirring patiently. Always waiting for an opportunity to strike. I try to let Elliot’s presence and the empty path ahead of us reassure me, but can’t erase the feeling of it perching within me – constantly on the lookout for a reason to leap.
24
There’s a different atmosphere tonight compared to last night, I note, studying the people around us. The crowds are beginning to cheer with a fresh vigour as the realisation strikes that this festival is not a never-ending, seamless stream of happy memories. Like any other weekend, it has to end.
The night bleeds with a desperation to celebrate and fill every available minute with the essence of Firecrest’s joy. Any moment that could potentially be crammed with an opportunity to see the weird and wonderful, it begs to be filled now. The exhaustion due to the demands of festival living has not set in for most, it seems.
We walk through the Yellow camp and begin to trudge up The Lakes hillside in quiet tandem, listening to the sounds of beating drums and the thrum of thousands of cheers careering upward towards the sky.
The hill is mercilessly steep, covered in yellow and brown grass from constant sunlight and heavy footsteps, and tall flags that are dotted up the hill. This results in a sprawling colourful display when viewed from far away but from where we’re standing, it’s essentially a hill decorated with tall, metal poles.
The drumstick sits, unacknowledged, in my bag. We haven’t mentioned its existence since it last went into hibernation, and I’m content to keep it that way. Obviously I have no intention of sneaking it home, but I’m not keen to discuss it at this point. That can wait.
Veering around another flag pole as we trundle uphill, unease starts to prickle my skin as I try to think of simple, neutral topics of conversation.
Sandwiches, sea creatures? Cloud formations? Any of them would do but it would also require opening my mouth to speak, which I don’t love the idea of currently. I’m hesitant to say anything at all, scared to break the silence. Also he might respond at length and I would have to endure the gravelly and rich tones of his voice which I’ve started to notice make my insides feel like they’re made of hot, sticky caramel.
The same voice eventually breaks me out of my reverie.
‘So…’ He clears his throat and I unintentionally hold my breath. ‘How are you planning on adjusting back to real life this week? Exciting plans or just rest and recovery?’
‘The latter,’ I reply carefully, grateful for the easy topic. ‘Lots of cat time needed. And it’ll be nice to see my housemate. But to be honest with you, I might need to rest for a year after this.’
‘Know what you mean. It’s a specific kind of exhaustion. Just the one housemate?’
‘Yep. Allie. We met at uni, she’s my closest friend aside from Hennie – and an unparalleled board game and snake enthusiast.’
His brows quirk upwards. ‘Niche.’
‘Yeah, I love it. What about you? Any housemates who have to endure you?’
He gives me a sidelong glance. ‘Nope, just me.’
‘Oh.’ I don’t know why I’m surprised. ‘Why?’
He shrugs. ‘I like my space.’
I don’t have the energy or will to come back with a teasing response about the irony of this, given our situation. I’m also growing increasingly out of breath on this never-ending hill.
‘Fair enough,’ I huff. ‘Sorry, but I think I might be dying.’ I stop walking and rest my hands on my hips as I turn to take in the view with my lungs heaving. ‘Is this high enough?’
‘Sure.’ He throws himself down onto the grass next to a flagpole.
