Fiction: Were here all summer Ch 2, Romance

Chapter 2

Narrowing my eyes as I weeded the garden - the actual weeds, as she had pointed out - I watched through the large glass windows as my great aunt and the neighbour boy spoke with one another. It was implied when he arrived that my company was not warranted, my aunt had said, 'my yard is looking a little overgrown, could you possibly help out again, Savannah?'. Even though before she had said that she wanted me away from it. What could they possibly have to talk about that I couldn't be present for?

Glaring through the glass as I yanked out the daffodils and grass that had spread into her herb gardens, I let out many an angry noise. Oliver caught my eye and swallowed, looking quickly away.

Maybe if I got through all the weeding, they would have no excuse to keep me outside while they had their little tea party. I could see by the way she smiled that she enjoyed his company and resented it. The past week, I had received very little in the way of smiles. I was trying my best, I'd done everything she'd set for me, but not a quirk of the lips did I receive for my efforts. I thought we'd had a nice chat, that it had set us up for success.

She did talk to me, here and there, so we were making progress but she didn't let me make dinner after my first few mediocre attempts. I mean, so, my chicken was dry. It was frightening, cooking chicken. I didn't want it to be raw on the inside. It was rather rude of her to respond by taking out some meat packet from the fridge and disappearing with it. Did she have a secret kitchen around here that I didn't know about? She'd tried to hide what it was, but I followed her up the stairs and saw her drop an arm to hold onto the banister as she crept upstairs.

What was she doing, having her bedroom upstairs, anyway?

I said I'd help her move everything downstairs into another room so she didn't have to climb up and down so much, but she politely declined, seeming horrified at the idea of me going into her room. She always kept it locked.

I know, don't judge me. I shouldn't be going through people's rooms, but I was curious. She spent so much time in there. Who locks the door when they go to the bathroom, anyway?

Furthermore, my friends had left Victoria and were on holiday. Without me. Posting updates, having a good old time. I was meant to be there. Making memories, growing closer to them all. Who knows what we'd be doing next year, how much we'd see each other when we were different places, doing different things. Couldn't my parents see that it was important? Often people said that the prime years of their lives were in high school and while I rather hoped that my life contained much more, I did want to squeeze the last out of my potential best years that I can. I was meant to be there, to hang out with my friends with no one else to care about for once, to kiss someone at the beach or in the bar who wasn't Garrett.

Instead I was here, poorly assisting my great aunt who seemed to resent my company and frankly, not even need me. I had yet to see her struggle at any task, she was the most competent 70 plus year old I'd come across. She did seem a bit lonely, though, but she seemed loathe to lower herself to accompany me any more than necessary. She spent a lot of time locked in her room or in her chair, watching the TV - the TV, what a novelty! No one in my house watched the TV except for when the news was on. We just watched streaming services these days.

Too sucked into my internal tirade, I jumped as a shadow came over me. I glanced up. Oliver was standing just a few shrubs away, his hands in the pockets of his faded running shorts. They were red this time."Hey."

I blinked, wondering what he wanted. I was disappointed he hadn't yet taken me up on my kissing offer. It always astounded me that people wasted so much time not kissing each other. I mean, it was a joke mostly to get his face all cute and flushed again, but I wouldn't have said no.

However, this having a tea party without me business was putting a damper on that desire.

"Hi. What do you talk about in there?" I wanted to know.

"Catch Trish up on the gossip around town?" He suggested without looking me in the eye.

"Was there some melodrama? I saw some gestures."

"You sound like you're hoping for it." He gave me a considering look.

"Of course. If you two aren't getting along it makes way for me to step in." I waved my shovel happily. "I pray every night for the deterioration of your relationship."

"No drama, sorry," He said. "You seem to be getting the actual weeds this time. Good work."

"Mm. I am quite proud of myself."

"Do you want to go out to the grill with me?" He asked quickly, his words near blurring together in his haste. "Trish says you're a bit restless, that you're used to going out… when she comes in and sees your phone's going off, you frown a lot. She gathers you probably miss your friends, wish that you were with them instead. She feels bad."

"Not enough to actually hang with me, though." I rolled my eyes. "You know, it would be nice if she explained these things to me instead of you. It would make me think that she actually thought them, rather than you putting words in her mouth to be nice."

"I'm not. I promise. However much I want to be nice to you, I won't lie." He said earnestly, his eyes intent on mine. I felt my cheeks warm. "I'm not, um, probably who you're used to hanging out with, but I'd go, if you need to get out."

"What do you mean by that, the kind of person I'm used to hanging out with?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow. I'm not sure who he thought I was, but my friends were a very mixed group of people of varying quality, so it wasn't like I kept the bar very high for company.

"I mean, in general, I don't hang out. So, I'm probably not very good seem um, personable. Like someone people like hanging out with."

"Really?" I said, surprised and pleased. "First, my aunt says that she 'doesn't know that she'd find me annoying' and now you're saying I'm 'personable'. I think people are different around here."

"She doesn't find you annoying? That's a high compliment. Maybe soon she'll say that she actively doesn't find you annoying, that she likes you. " He smiled encouragingly. "So um, grill?"

"Uh. Can you wait till I'm not a gross, sweaty mess with dirt all over my hands and knees?" I asked, patting my very brown knees. "I would like for the neighbourhood not to think that a beast has moved in. Plus, if I'm not allowed to sit in my aunt's chairs like this, I fear what a restaurant would have to say about it."

"Uh, sure. No one would want to see any beasts around here." He agreed with a chuckle.

His stomach let out a large gurgle and I got the delicious experience of seeing him flush again. "I am, however, beastly hungry. How long will you take?"

"I'll be quick, I swear." I promised and then tried to smile in a very beguiling way. "In exchange, could you drive this one, please? I don't really like driving around here. There's so many kangaroos, especially in the evening. I don't know how I'll ever work up the courage to drive home, I might never leave just to avoid it."

"That wouldn't be so bad." He said. "I'm happy to drive you if you don't mind an old ute that has paint peeling off and has hot leather seats in it that might burn your ass. It's not a cute baby blue nissan micra like yours."

"You can tell it's baby blue? It looks brown from the amount of dust it amassed on the drive. I cleaned it before I came, thinking, oh, make a nice impression. Then a bunch of pretty butterflies died on my windscreen and left a bunch of pretty yellow patches." I said, sighing with annoyance. "This is why you don't try. The world always gets in the way of your efforts and there's no beating the world."

"You are trying really hard to be helpful, aren't you?" He gave me this soft look and I felt uncomfortable, mostly because I wasn't used to my efforts being acknowledged. Admittedly, sometimes my attempts sucked but I did try, you know? Was it my fault that I sucked?

"Yeah. Well. I smell like I put hamburgers under my armpits, so I best be showering." I stood up and with a wave, went through my now ritual of putting the tools away and shaking off my gumboots. I could feel his soft eyes on me though and tried not to feel too pathetic. It's always a bit sad when you're trying really hard and yet you're still performing poorly. I would rather him think that I was just lazy, not an adjective I liked, but better than pathetic or incompetent.

When I got to my room inside, I opened the drawers and scooped my clothes up in my arms, pouring them onto the floor. I was excited to go out for dinner, even if it was somewhere casual. I didn't imagine that I'd get a reason to dress up while I was here, not to say I didn't pack for it. I didn't pack lightly, which is why it was even more bewildering that my great aunt could easily lug my suitcases around when I'd arrived. My arms had ached in the short distance it took to get to the door and I was supposed to be the young and spry one.

I sorted through the pile and yanked out what I was looking for as soon as I saw a telltale strawberry. It was a cream coloured off-shoulder dress with a strawberry print that my closest friend, Hally, had given me for my birthday this year. We had gone on a picnic together before I had left, eating curried egg sandwiches and strawberries (we were strawberry fiends, often we'd bring them to school in our lunch boxes, we bonded over them). It felt like a nice warm Hally hug against my skin. It had been pretty brutal to leave her behind, we'd planned the whole trip around each other after Garrett conveniently dumped me.

I grabbed the plastic bag I'd brought all my shoes in and dumped them all on the floor before me, picking up my trusty pair of brown leather sandals. Aunt P said he liked to take walks around here and they were good for walking (padding and arch support for my sensitive feet), if the occasion arose.

Going to the guest bathroom, I went over to the sink and dumped out my heads and shoulders from my toiletry bag. Gardening had made me sweaty, which made my scalp itchy, which made me scratch my scalp and, well - I didn't want to be flaking all over the nice dinner that Oliver was taking me to. Got to get ahead of these problems.

A five minute song session and quick hair washing later, I got dressed, pulling the cream dress over my head and letting it fall to mid thigh with a few hip wriggles. Flouncing it, I took a turn in front of the mirror and gave myself a mock lascivious smirk in the mirror. Get it, Savannah.

xoxo

Oliver's steak arrived and I leaned forward, so that my face was directly over his plate. He blinked at me, his blue eyes wide with apprehension. He feared for his steak.

"It's bigger than my head. You know, you don't have to prove how masculine you are by ordering the largest thing possible. I date - dated a theatre kid, he wasn't the picture of manliness. Not that I mean all theatre kids aren't manly, because some of them are, but he was not and I was into it, so, really, there's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm not going to judge you." He blanked at the word 'date' and stared into space, not hearing the rest of my rambling.

"Uh, this isn't a date, right? Do you think this is a date? Is that why you're dressed up pretty?" He looked at me, seeming incredibly nervous now. I preened, touching my hair and looking down at my wisely chosen dress, pleased to be told that I looked pretty.

However, once I looked back to him he seemed to be verging on passing out with fear. I sighed, deciding to put him out of his misery and wonder.

"Well, no. I just mean to say if you're worried about how you might appear to me, a human being who might be judgmental about your choices in food, I'm not going to be. Rest assured." I informed him slowly, trying to speak in a soothing tone and hoping to prevent an emotional collapse from happening before dinner's end. "Did you want this to be a date?"

"Uh. I feel there is no good way to answer that question." He said, covering his face with his napkin. "You're … well, I won't go into that. I didn't mean for this to be one and I wasn't thinking you thought it was one, so as long as we're on the same page about that, just forget I asked. Okay?"

"Okay." I agreed. "You can put your napkin down now."

"I'm going to keep it there for a moment."

He took it down after a few deep breaths, his face and neck no longer flushed red. I bit the inside of my cheeks, trying not to laugh. He was kind of adorable.

"So if you don't 'hang out', how do you spend your time?" I wanted to know.

"I go on walks. I read. I play with my dogs. I work. I hate work, though. I finished high school a couple years ago but I'm not really sure about what I want to do, I mean… I want to do something else."

"What do you do? Where do you work?"

"I work at a restaurant as a waiter. I don't like the people I went to high school with, so seeing them again and having to serve them isn't great. It would be bad enough just seeing them, but some are actively assholes to me while they're there, too." He cringed.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with that. It must be a bit rough serving people you would rather forget existed." I pouted in sympathy for him. "Do you dress up? Is it fancy? You would look so cute in a suit."

Oliver blinked furiously at my compliment, malfunctioning, and then swept right past it. "Maybe I should work on someone's farm or something, where I can deal with plants instead of people. There's a Christmas tree farm around here, but it's family run and I'm not sure they need anyone's help."

"A Christmas tree farm?" I said, excited. "Oh my god. Do you think Aunt P will let me get one at Christmas time? I love the smell. My mum hates them, she says she gets sick of vacuuming up the pine needles. Oh man, I hadn't even considered the fact that I'll be out my mum's Christmas dictatorship this year. I mean, to be fair, she did buy me my own personal tree for my room that I could decorate however I want, but the rest of the house is her domain and has a stringent colour scheme… I really hope Aunt P is more lenient."

Oliver observed the hope in my eyes with a small smile. "You can come smell my tree if she doesn't."

"I would love to come smell your tree, Oliver." I snorted and he held his napkin over his face again. I might make myself a challenge, see how many times I can get him to blush before the dinner is over. "You're so fun. I have never met anyone who burns up like you do."

"I'm glad you're enjoying this."

"It would be better if you let me see it." I suggested.

"No." He said. "What are you going to do, once you get back from this dream vacation?"

"I don't know. My parents wouldn't let me just hang around town. They say I have to 'do something'. My older sibling did a great job of performing up to expectations, how rude. You think, being the baby, they'd want to keep me in the nest. Instead, they're like those birds that kick them out, let the strong survive. I hope I'm strong, Oliver, please let no one eat me when I fall. I fear my wings are deformed, I'm not ready for this adult world."

"Some birds keep their babies in the nest for longer. However, I think once they get louder there's a higher chance predators will find the nest and endanger them all, so that's why some of them push them out earlier."

"Are you saying my parents are trying to get me to leave because I'm loud and annoying?" I wanted to know and his face blanked.

"Uh. No. I was just giving you bird facts, I don't mean to say that they apply to you and that you're the annoying bird."

"Are you saying I'm not?" I said, in disbelief.

"You're not annoying." He insisted. "I mean, not in a bad way."

"I'm annoying in a good way?" I simpered, waggling my eyebrows at him. "What does that mean, that you like how bothered I make you? Like, how you keep blushing? Are you sure you didn't want this to be a date?"

"My steak is getting cold." He said and quickly cut off a large hunk of it, filling his mouth in a disgraceful display that made his cheeks puff out and his meal threaten to fall out as he began to chew.

I looked down at my salmon and cut a more delicate slice off, chewing it and looking at him as he avidly avoided my eyes, continuing to cut hunks off his steak and stuff them into his mouth. He spent the rest of the meal either stuffing his mouth or filling the air with idle chatter to avoid my teasing. He did not succeed.

xoxo

That evening, I went on a walk around the neighbourhood. Oliver had tempted me with his loving descriptions of it during dinner. I could see what he meant, looking back on the drive here without the lens of total panic.

It was getting darker but there was still light enough to see the colours of the trees and flowers. Oliver seemed to know a lot about animals and plants, maybe if I were lucky we could take a walk together and he could point things out to me as we went along.

Smiling at the thought, I followed the footpath and could see the warm lights of people's houses and smell what they were having or had for dinner. A lot of people were having barbecues because of the warm summer night and because of it being a Friday. If I were at home, maybe I'd be around my friends' houses, having a cocktail while we watched the year's theatre productions as per tradition. I wondered whether they had watched them without me and shook my head, trying not to slide back into my melancholy.

They were probably too busy partying at the beach. I myself am too busy admiring the sights and trying to imagine them through Oliver's eyes. Imagine what it was like growing up here, the grass so lush, the trees so tall, and the smells so fragrant. It was much more inspiring than the brown lawns back home.

Not that my lawn was brown, Mrs. Tree Dictator wouldn't have that. She watered it dutifully with a hose connected to our washing machine every day, recycling the water.

A loud thud resounded through the bush and I blinked, confused and looking around me. I couldn't see anything. It was silent for a beat and then a steady chorus of thuds were filling the area.I felt the ground vibrate beneath me. What was going on?

A long aggressive howl made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I pressed my lips together, hoping this wasn't the night that I'd meet my untimely end. Surely, there wasn't anything that could kill me around here? I mean, nothing that made a sound like this. There were the spiders and snakes and all, but this sounded sizable.

I stood still, chewing the inside of my mouth and clenching my hands around the fabric of my dress. The thuds eventually faded into the distance and I let out the breath I held. I tried to continue the rest of my walk quietly but I could feel sticks brushing my ankles and leaves were feeding through the openings in my sandles and wedging themselves underneath my feet. It was as if the environment was collaborating to make my movement as noisy as possible.

My walk felt decidedly ruined.

Not being able to stop myself, even though it was even more noisy, I shook the leaves out of my sandals and began to jog back to Aunt P's, keeping my eyes on the path. If you don't look around, nothing can get you, right? I arrived home and discovered I was decidedly was not fit enough to run for any time period longer than ten seconds, puffed and panted in the doorway, bent over.

"Working out some of that restless energy?" Aunt P seemed pleased, perhaps she thought that meant I'd be quiet tonight. I'd been taken out by the neighbour boy, been fed, and exercised. I must seem to her like some kind of animal she was making sure was cared for, the way she approached it.

"Aunt P, do you think there's wolves around here?" I inquired, letting my hands drop from my knees and straightening.

"No, there aren't wolves in Australia." She said absently and then winced, looking at me as if she thought better of saying so. " I mean maybe, sure, I mean, I don't know. What makes you say that?"

"Big thudding steps echoing throughout the street, coming from the bush? Rain forest? Whatever you call the nature here. I felt it move, I could feel the ground vibrating from it. It had to have been massive. It was howling." I informed her and she averted her eyes, shrugging.

"It's probably a neighbour's dog." She said. "Some people don't have their fences high enough, sometimes they get out. That's probably it."

"It was a bit big for just a dog" I said, crossing my arms defensively.

"Those Alaskan Malamutes can be pretty big sometimes, maybe someone has one of them. I should probably message Oliver about it, he'd know. He knows all the dogs around here."

"You and Oliver text?" I wanted to know, surprised that anyone could get more out of her than the 'k' that I often received. "I wonder when he's going to give me his phone number."

"Do you like him?" She said, her eyes widening with surprise as she considered me.

"What? No. You know, there aren't many options for company around here. You don't want to hang out with me most of the time. You're the one who got him to take me out." I said, defensively and even worse, embarrassed. I wasn't used to my parents asking about my love life, which while it had only consisted of Garrett for the past four years and they didn't like him, was kind of understandable.

"Of course, dear. Sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything. I had hoped that he could provide you some company, but my hope wasn't high." She said."I thought you might be a bit bored by him or find him strange. He can be quite awkward."

"Oh." I said. "Well, I like awkward. And you called me dear. Does that mean I'm becoming dear to you?"

"Don't push it." She said, although the press of her lips suggested she was hiding a smile. I waggled my fingers in celebration, knowing that this was a win.

"Also, does this mean the next time you guys have your secret tea talks I'll be invited?"

"No." She said firmly and I slumped, legitimately kind of annoyed. I'd spent two weeks here, pestering both of them, and they hadn't invited me once. I had eaten all of her biscuits that she set out one morning in retaliation before he got here, but nothing was said to me about it. I hated when my spitefulness wasn't given the proper acknowledgement that it deserved.

"What can I do to get invited? What if I baked you a cake?"

"I think we would be less inclined to invite you if you tried to bake us something." She said warily and I scowled. My cooking had been improving, thank you very much. Only two weeks had past and my cooking and my gardening were progressing. I was becoming an indispensable slave, if you asked me.

'You two are exclusive and mean." I said vehemently. "You're lucky I arrived, I'm a ray of sunshine."

Aunt P didn't say anything, but her lips pressed together in that way where she was trying not to show her smile again. I huffed, disgusted with her. She had finally developed a sense of humour and it was used to be cruel to me.

"I'm going to my room." I threatened.

She lifted her hand in welcome.

I made a show of stomping my feet down the hall to my room, my feet thudding louder as I grew further away so that she could still hear my ire.

Only, when I returned to my dark room and looked out into the night, I felt a quiver go through me, my eyes darting around for glances of whatever I heard. I had a vague sense of unease and it was frankly irritating, I didn't like letting worries get the best of me. It made me feel like I couldn't go around on my own and whenever I felt like I wasn't allowed to do something, I wanted to do it.

However, not being on my own wouldn't be the worst thing.

Oliver's blushing face came to mind and I smiled, hopping onto the bed and sprawling out. If I have to have a chaperone to protect me from the beast, at least it's a cute one.