Well, it's certainly been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry it took me so long;
I just really haven't been in the writing 'groove' since the Christmas
holidays. I promise I'll try harder to post more frequently. Thanks for the
wonderful reviews up to this point! Please continue to do so!
Oh, and I lied. You know how I said there might only be a few more chapters? Well. . .I got a bit of an idea. Let me know if I should save it for another story or if you want me to just continue this one. It could be like a two book thing, with this one being the first novel and the next, incorporating my new idea, could be the second. What do you guys think of that idea?
This could be the end. . .It might not be the end. . .Hmmm. . .
Angelina
++++++++
It's been a week since Alan left, and the pain has begun to evaporate into the dark cloud hanging over the island, pushing it away. He's gone off to the mainland for a fortnight, to visit an old school friend of his.
On our last night of solitude, Virgil and I sit by the pool, watching the moon rise over the palm trees. Alan would be back the next morning, but my feelings for Virgil have never been stronger. Alan's absence seemed to be just what the doctor ordered.
The rescue that afternoon had drained all those who participated, and I'm almost afraid Virgil's going to fall asleep beside me. His head is tilted towards the stars, lids partially hiding his chocolate eyes as he pretends not to be exhausted. I know better.
"Are you sure you don't want to go inside?" I ask, leaning my head on his shoulder.
"I'm sure." He turns to look at me and I sense a smile on his lips. He lifts his hand and I feel gentle fingers on my hair and cheek. "I love you, Tin-Tin."
This time, the smile is on my own face as I raise my head. "I love you too, Virgil." I kiss him lightly and go back to my earlier position, searching the stars for nothing in particular.
"Do you remember when you had a crush on Scott?" He says after a long moment of contented silence.
I look up again, pulling away from him and meeting his gaze evenly. "I never had a crush on Scott."
"Yes, you did. When you first came here, before anything happened between you and Alan."
"That's not true."
"It is, I know it is." I can see the teasing look on his face even in the dark, the starlight making his eyes shine.
"If I did, I'd be the most fickle person in the universe," I point out.
"Who said you weren't?"
"Virgil!"
He laughs quietly and puts his arm around me, resting it on the back of the chair.
"I never had a crush on Scott," I say again, making sure he knows I'm telling the truth.
"I know."
"You what? You know? Then why did you say I did?"
"To agitate you. Gordon does it to me all the time."
I scowl at him. "That wasn't very nice of you."
He sighs, still grinning broadly. "I know. How can I make it up to you?" He asks, moving nearer to me on the spacious lounger and wrapping his other arm around me, pulling me close.
"A simple apology will do just fine," I answer, cuddling up against him under the watchful eye of the falcate moon.
He brings my head up with a slender finger before moving his lips within inches of mine. "I have a better idea," he murmurs, kissing me deeply, his fatigue pushed to the farthest corners of his mind.
+++
The next morning at breakfast, the previously vacant seat on one side of the table has its occupant back. All that's visible is a tuft of blond hair from behind the newspaper held in front of Alan's face.
"Hey dad, did you hear about that landslide in western Canada yesterday? It's too bad nobody called for help. I bet Brains' new earthmover would have done the trick." He peers over the paper, his eyes settling on me. "Oh, Tin-Tin, it's you."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Alan," I answer, trying to sound bright and cheery. "Your father's in the garden with mine."
"You never disappoint me."
His response takes me by surprise and I freeze on my way towards the stove, planning to pour myself a cup of tea. It wasn't even so much the words that shocked me, it was almost as if the tone was laced with an emotion he didn't want to convey.
"How was your visit with your friends?" I force myself to continue moving to the cupboard, standing on the tips of my toes to get a teacup from the top shelf.
Alan seems to warm slightly, relieved just as I was to find a safe topic. "It was great. Tommy got himself a new car, so we took it for a zip around the track. That baby handled like a dream!"
I shake my head lightly, smiling as I poured tepid tea into the china cup. Trust Alan to forget everything when there is a car involved. "Better than yours?"
"None is better than mine," he scoffs good-naturedly, returning his attention to the newspaper he has now spread out on the table next to the bowl of cereal he's in the process of eating.
I refill his coffee cup before casually taking a seat beside him at the table. I lean back in my chair, watching him as I sip my tea.
"Penny for your thoughts?" He asks quietly, turning the page in the newspaper to read up on the latest hockey scores.
"They're not worth that much," I admit, staring into the pale depths of my teacup. "I just wanted to know how you were doing."
"Overall, or in our situation?"
Alan's direct response wasn't something I expected. I was waiting for him to dodge the topic, to beat around the bush and procrastinate before finally giving in and talking to someone -- anyone -- about it. He's always been the most soft-spoken when it comes to personal problems.
"About us," I answer, not daring to look at him.
He lets his breath out quietly and I finally let my eyes drift from my tea to him. The newspaper sits forgotten as he traces the pattern of the tablecloth with his index finger, thinking. "I'm, well, better, I suppose."
"Really?"
He glances up at me, his sincerity plain in his expression as he nods. "I wouldn't go as far as to say I've completely accepted it, but I think I'll survive." He tries a smile and I return it in liberation. "I'm going to miss you," he whispers and I almost don't hear him.
"I know," I answer just as delicately. "I'm going to miss you too."
And it's the honest truth. Alan and I went through a lot together, and a part of me is sad to see it go. I guess it's true what they say: old flames never die. Alan Tracy will always be in my heart, no matter whom I'm with. As my first steady boyfriend, no one will ever be able to replace him.
"Alan?"
"Yes, Tin-Tin?"
"Thank you. For finally putting my mind at some sort of ease, I mean," I say timidly, feeling a weight lifting off my shoulders.
"I didn't have much choice, did I?" He replies, tone holding not an ounce of self-pity.
I shake my head regretfully. "No, I don't think you did."
He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, snapping me out of my silent thoughts as I look up at him.
"Tin-Tin. . ." he begins softly, as if searching carefully for the words before choosing what he's going to say.
I wait patiently, curious as to what he wants to tell me.
He removes his gaze from the tablecloth and looks at me, his eyes boring into mine. When he finally does speak, his words aren't what I thought they were going to be. They drip candor, devotion and the sense of a locked up confession finally being brought to the surface.
"No matter what happens," he murmurs, "No one and nothing can ever make me stop loving you."
. . .THE END?
Oh, and I lied. You know how I said there might only be a few more chapters? Well. . .I got a bit of an idea. Let me know if I should save it for another story or if you want me to just continue this one. It could be like a two book thing, with this one being the first novel and the next, incorporating my new idea, could be the second. What do you guys think of that idea?
This could be the end. . .It might not be the end. . .Hmmm. . .
Angelina
++++++++
It's been a week since Alan left, and the pain has begun to evaporate into the dark cloud hanging over the island, pushing it away. He's gone off to the mainland for a fortnight, to visit an old school friend of his.
On our last night of solitude, Virgil and I sit by the pool, watching the moon rise over the palm trees. Alan would be back the next morning, but my feelings for Virgil have never been stronger. Alan's absence seemed to be just what the doctor ordered.
The rescue that afternoon had drained all those who participated, and I'm almost afraid Virgil's going to fall asleep beside me. His head is tilted towards the stars, lids partially hiding his chocolate eyes as he pretends not to be exhausted. I know better.
"Are you sure you don't want to go inside?" I ask, leaning my head on his shoulder.
"I'm sure." He turns to look at me and I sense a smile on his lips. He lifts his hand and I feel gentle fingers on my hair and cheek. "I love you, Tin-Tin."
This time, the smile is on my own face as I raise my head. "I love you too, Virgil." I kiss him lightly and go back to my earlier position, searching the stars for nothing in particular.
"Do you remember when you had a crush on Scott?" He says after a long moment of contented silence.
I look up again, pulling away from him and meeting his gaze evenly. "I never had a crush on Scott."
"Yes, you did. When you first came here, before anything happened between you and Alan."
"That's not true."
"It is, I know it is." I can see the teasing look on his face even in the dark, the starlight making his eyes shine.
"If I did, I'd be the most fickle person in the universe," I point out.
"Who said you weren't?"
"Virgil!"
He laughs quietly and puts his arm around me, resting it on the back of the chair.
"I never had a crush on Scott," I say again, making sure he knows I'm telling the truth.
"I know."
"You what? You know? Then why did you say I did?"
"To agitate you. Gordon does it to me all the time."
I scowl at him. "That wasn't very nice of you."
He sighs, still grinning broadly. "I know. How can I make it up to you?" He asks, moving nearer to me on the spacious lounger and wrapping his other arm around me, pulling me close.
"A simple apology will do just fine," I answer, cuddling up against him under the watchful eye of the falcate moon.
He brings my head up with a slender finger before moving his lips within inches of mine. "I have a better idea," he murmurs, kissing me deeply, his fatigue pushed to the farthest corners of his mind.
+++
The next morning at breakfast, the previously vacant seat on one side of the table has its occupant back. All that's visible is a tuft of blond hair from behind the newspaper held in front of Alan's face.
"Hey dad, did you hear about that landslide in western Canada yesterday? It's too bad nobody called for help. I bet Brains' new earthmover would have done the trick." He peers over the paper, his eyes settling on me. "Oh, Tin-Tin, it's you."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Alan," I answer, trying to sound bright and cheery. "Your father's in the garden with mine."
"You never disappoint me."
His response takes me by surprise and I freeze on my way towards the stove, planning to pour myself a cup of tea. It wasn't even so much the words that shocked me, it was almost as if the tone was laced with an emotion he didn't want to convey.
"How was your visit with your friends?" I force myself to continue moving to the cupboard, standing on the tips of my toes to get a teacup from the top shelf.
Alan seems to warm slightly, relieved just as I was to find a safe topic. "It was great. Tommy got himself a new car, so we took it for a zip around the track. That baby handled like a dream!"
I shake my head lightly, smiling as I poured tepid tea into the china cup. Trust Alan to forget everything when there is a car involved. "Better than yours?"
"None is better than mine," he scoffs good-naturedly, returning his attention to the newspaper he has now spread out on the table next to the bowl of cereal he's in the process of eating.
I refill his coffee cup before casually taking a seat beside him at the table. I lean back in my chair, watching him as I sip my tea.
"Penny for your thoughts?" He asks quietly, turning the page in the newspaper to read up on the latest hockey scores.
"They're not worth that much," I admit, staring into the pale depths of my teacup. "I just wanted to know how you were doing."
"Overall, or in our situation?"
Alan's direct response wasn't something I expected. I was waiting for him to dodge the topic, to beat around the bush and procrastinate before finally giving in and talking to someone -- anyone -- about it. He's always been the most soft-spoken when it comes to personal problems.
"About us," I answer, not daring to look at him.
He lets his breath out quietly and I finally let my eyes drift from my tea to him. The newspaper sits forgotten as he traces the pattern of the tablecloth with his index finger, thinking. "I'm, well, better, I suppose."
"Really?"
He glances up at me, his sincerity plain in his expression as he nods. "I wouldn't go as far as to say I've completely accepted it, but I think I'll survive." He tries a smile and I return it in liberation. "I'm going to miss you," he whispers and I almost don't hear him.
"I know," I answer just as delicately. "I'm going to miss you too."
And it's the honest truth. Alan and I went through a lot together, and a part of me is sad to see it go. I guess it's true what they say: old flames never die. Alan Tracy will always be in my heart, no matter whom I'm with. As my first steady boyfriend, no one will ever be able to replace him.
"Alan?"
"Yes, Tin-Tin?"
"Thank you. For finally putting my mind at some sort of ease, I mean," I say timidly, feeling a weight lifting off my shoulders.
"I didn't have much choice, did I?" He replies, tone holding not an ounce of self-pity.
I shake my head regretfully. "No, I don't think you did."
He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, snapping me out of my silent thoughts as I look up at him.
"Tin-Tin. . ." he begins softly, as if searching carefully for the words before choosing what he's going to say.
I wait patiently, curious as to what he wants to tell me.
He removes his gaze from the tablecloth and looks at me, his eyes boring into mine. When he finally does speak, his words aren't what I thought they were going to be. They drip candor, devotion and the sense of a locked up confession finally being brought to the surface.
"No matter what happens," he murmurs, "No one and nothing can ever make me stop loving you."
. . .THE END?