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Fly
"What to wear, what to wear", Fly Watson murmured, flipping through her wardrobe. There was a thunk and suddenly a small object fell out of the wardrobe, landing on her foot. "Ow!" she almost shrieked.
However, the pain almost evaporated when she saw what the object was.
"Oh my God", she gasped.
The thing that had landed on her was a photo frame, the glossy photo bringing back memories. Anna, Bec, Edge, Heath, Matt, Perri and herself, posing on the beach, the day of the final surf off. Their hair was blowing back, they had smiles plastered on their faces, and they looked so incredibly happy.
Thoughts of what to wear abandoned, she sat cross legged on the carpeted floor, the photo in her hands.
She could still hear Perri and Bec arguing over who got to use the bathroom first. She could see Anna dancing around in her pyjamas, German hip hop blasting through her headphones. She had laughed at the arguments Matt and Edge had had (they were complete opposites of each other and had clashed at every opportunity), and she could still feel Heath's strong, muscular arms around her body. The gentle kisses he had placed on her forehead before bed, the soppy text messages he had sent through the bedroom wall, via Anna's phone.
She remembered every single one. For the first week, Anna had read them out, happy for her friend. The second week, Anna had sounded bored. The third week, Anna had said she felt physically sick and the fourth week she had turned off her phone the moment Fly said she was going to bed.
But, no matter how much Anna and Fly had teased each other, they loved each other.
They had all loved each other. Perri was an only child, and she thought it was a novelty having three sisters and three brothers. Fly was the youngest of six girls, and thought it was a novelty having brothers- and only sharing a room with one other person.
"This is crazy!"
"I know, right?"
"It's all in the past now", Fly said firmly to herself, glancing one last time at the photo.
But, instead of replacing the photo frame in the wardrobe, she placed it on the bedside table. Perhaps there was still a smidgen of hope...
Even if it had been eight years.