3.

Eva.

The bathroom was covered in floating soap bubbles. Hmmm, I must admit that it's been a while since I had a water fight. It felt really good as it kept my mind on the present. Well, we were done bathing and the giggling sounds had subsided. We wore our pyjamas and the room looked even more pink.

Chloe had switched on this small lamp by her dresser that threw everything in a warm rose color and now we were both lying on our stomachs across her bed, feet in the air, like we were fourteen again.

"Okay but wait," Chloe said, pressing her face into her pillow before lifting it again. "He actually said that to you in front of the whole class?"

"In front of everybody," I said. "He goes, ‘Miss Eva, perhaps if you spent less time looking pretty and more time studying, you'd have a future.”

Chloe's mouth fell open. "Oh, he did not."

"He did."

"That's— that's actually harassment."

"That's what I said!"

“But, don't you think he has the hots for you?”

“Don't you trust me? Of course, I know.”

Chloe drew a deep breath. " OMG! What did you do?"

"I laughed," I said. "I laughed in the most sarcastic way ever and the whole class erupted in laughter too and he never called on me again for the rest of the semester."

Chloe lost it. Full body laughter, rolling sideways, nearly taking her pillow with her. "You laughed?!"

"What was I supposed to do Chloe!"

"I don't know, literally anything else—"

"He's not that hot. C’mon!"

She was still laughing though quieter now, and then slower, and then she made this soft sound that wasn't really a laugh anymore. More like a breath.

Then nothing.

I turned to look at her.

Out. Completely out. Mouth slightly open, one arm hanging off the edge of the bed like she'd just given up mid-conversation. 

"Chloe."

Nothing.

"Okay then."

I pulled the blanket from the foot of the bed and dropped it over her, fixed her pillow so her neck wasn't at a terrible angle. She didn't move once. I switched off the pink lamp and lay back down in the dark.

The ceiling was just a ceiling however I stared at it for a long time.

{—}

An hour passed. Maybe more. I could hear the house settling around me, those quiet creaks old buildings make at night. Outside the window the snow had stopped but everything still looked white and heavy. The Christmas lights Chloe had strung along her curtain rail blinked slowly. Red, gold, red, gold.

I turned over. Closed my eyes. But after a while, I opened them.

Turned over again.

Chloe made a small sound in her sleep and pulled the blanket tighter.

I sat up slowly, careful not to disturb her, found my socks on the floor and pulled them on. Grabbed the hoodie I'd hung over the chair by the door. I didn't have a plan. I just needed air or a different ceiling to stare at. Something.

{—}

The back of the estate had a wide stone porch that opened to the garden. I'd found it years ago when I was maybe ten, during one of my first sleepovers here. I remembered thinking it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen with all that open space, the hedges, the quiet.

It still was.

I pushed the door open slowly and the cold hit me immediately. Sharp and clean. The garden was completely still. Snow sat on everything from the hedges to the stone ledge then the iron chairs nobody ever sat in. The lights from the main house bled soft gold onto the snow and somewhere inside through a window the big tree was still glowing.

I leaned against the door frame and just breathed.

This was what I signed up for. As long as the air didn't smell like my own sadness.

I stood there for a while. Long enough to feel my fingers go cold. Long enough to stop thinking about him…about it all 

"You should have worn a coat."

I spun around so fast I nearly slipped on the step.

Dominic was standing just inside the doorway behind me, a glass in his hand, looking completely unsurprised to find me here. 

"Mr. Callahan." My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "I'm sorry, I didn't — I just needed some air, I wasn't trying to—"

"You don't have to explain yourself." He stepped out beside me, looked out at the garden. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No." I pulled the hoodie tighter. "I never really sleep well the first night somewhere new."

He nodded once. Didn't say anything.

I should have let the silence sit. A normal person would have let it sit.

"It's really beautiful out here though," I said. "Like, I forgot how nice this garden is at night, especially with the snow and the lights from inside, it does something to the whole…it just looks different at night you know? Better almost. Not that it's not nice during the day obviously it's—"

I stopped.

Dominic looked at me sideways.

"Sorry," I said quietly. "I didn't intend to say much."

"I remember," he said simply.

And that was it. That was all he said before he looked back at the garden.

I stared at the side of his face for half a second then turned away.

He was still the same. That was the thing that got me every time. The same stillness. The same unbothered economy of words. Why? If only he’d looked at me more often. 

Most people I could read. Dominic I never could. And for some embarrassing reason that had always been the problem.

We stood there for a few minutes. As still and unbothered as usual, me trying very hard to be normal. The cold was proper now, biting at my ears, crawling under my sleeves.

Ten years ago I was in this same house and I'd woken up from a nightmare so bad I'd sat straight up in bed with my heart hammering. Chloe had slept right through it because Chloe could sleep through a fire. 

I remember I'd crept out to the hallway not knowing what I was doing and Dominic had found me there, ten years old, just standing in the dark. He hadn't made a fuss. Instead he had held me by the hand and walked me back to the room. I remember holding on to my stuffed animal while he checked the window latch and lit candles to keep the room less dark.

“Eva.” My heart hammered immediately the word left his lips. 

“Chloe mentioned um–”

“My cheating boyfriend?” 

He chuckled slightly, clearing his throat. “Well, let's say Chloe used different expletives to describe him.” 

“I guess she couldn't be more correct.”

“Is he the reason you're out in the cold all alone? Or you are having another nightmare. 

I didn't realise we were both staring at each other's eyes. “No. I–I mean I am hurt. It has been two years. But, you know what? Yeah, I guess I had a nightmare. 

And for a brief moment we both actually laughed. I kept taking surreptitious glances at him. I'm certainly going to sleep well tonight. 

“He'll regret it for the rest of his life, Eva. I'll ensure that.” He said, leaning forward to brush my back. 

“He will ensure it? What does that even mean?” I swallowed hard and tucked a strand of imaginary hair behind my ear. 

“Shame on him for not seeing what he had.” He added. Okay, this was getting serious. “And what's that?” 

“The world. Another man's dream.” He brushed, the snow flake from his coat. 

I was too afraid to look into his eyes after that, too terrified to look at the man who had my stomach pummeling to the ground. 

“This way. Let me walk you back.” 

“No. No way. I have troubled you enough for one night.”

“This way.” He said gesturing to wards the door leading to the balcony. 

While we made our way a white dot landed on his cheek, and I instantly became jealous of thatdamn snowflake, wishing I could touch his skin and melt into it. God! No!What in the fucking hell, Shut up, brain. Shut the fuck up. 

I suppose breakups really do fuck with your head and your heart. I was just hurting and vulnerable, right? That's all it was.

He held the door open and I stepped through, and he followed, and we walked back through the quiet house in silence. We climbed the stairs slowly with him behind me. I couldn't help but admire the silhouette of him. 

Finally, we arrived at Chloe's door. He extended his hands again in a pat. "Good night Eva, Sleep well."

"Thank you, Mr. Callahan. I apologize for the inconvenience.” 

I waved as I pushed Chloe's door open and slipped back inside.

“Not at all.”

Chloe was still out cold, completely unbothered, one leg now hanging off the bed.

I lay down beside her and pulled the blanket over myself.

“He's Chloe's dad”, I told myself. “He's forty-five. He thinks you're his daughter's little friend. He always will.”

I closed my eyes.