Nine Lives

List of Lives

He rustled in his backpack as he spoke, presumably looking for something. "When you told me you'd never been on an adventure, inspiration struck." He pulled out a folded piece of paper, crumbled and wet from Velmas condensation. "Once you told me you were willing to come with me, I wrote down a list of lives."

He started to unfold this list, the paper being a page ripped from a book of some kind, big red letters overlapping the smaller black font that told a different story. "This list is our guide. I thought of a few things we could do over the week...things i'm yet to experience." He handed me the page, red ink seeping through to the other side.

I stared down at the paper, reading his block writing.

It was set out unusually, numbers 1, 3 and 5 cascading down the left side and their even substitutes of 2 and 4 filling in the gaps opposite on the right. I read the second first margin out loud. "Drunken Underground." Well, that explained Velma.

I read on, numbers 3 and 5 smudged, but still visible.

3. Tattoo Tour 

5. Scream Team

The riddles behind the names still remained secret, my mind too confused the decipher Blakes own language. Beside it, read 1 and 4, clear as day in the blood red ink.

1. Aquamarine

4. Peaceful Protest

The bold T of tattoo and the sharp corners on the S of scream sent anxiety through my brain, knowingly worried that a tattoo would never be approved by my parents or Jackson, let alone myself who didn't trust their own taste. And scream...god I hope that wasn't a riddle for my murder...

'What is this?" I asked, slightly scared to hear the answer.

"Our missions." He said guiltily, obviously thrown by my lack of excitement. "You wanted adventure, and so did I, so here's a list of some things i've always wanted to do..."

I looked up at him, a slight look of worry in the golden specs of his emeralds...the guilt jumped from him to me. "Wow..." I stuttered, unsure of what to say.

Time slowed as the awkwardness filtered through the cracks, seconds turning into minutes and minutes feeling like hours. My face was cased in red, the list curling its way through my brain. Missions...was that another one of his riddles for a bucket list? I read over them again, trying to decipher the words. Surely bucket lists were too cliche for him?

Blake sat in silence beside me.

God, Amelia...say something. "What do these mean?"

For the first time since I met him, Blake was shy. The confidence had vanished from his face, replaced by anxiety as he took the list in his fingers and cleared his throat "You will find out one by one...after each mission is complete."

I suddenly felt extremely sad. I'd done it again...i'd burst his bubble. I was seriously the most boring person on earth, just like Jackson always said...

"It's like a bucket list" Blake spoke again, "I've had it for a while, checking things off and visiting different places. These are the things i'm yet to complete, and doing them alone would never be near as much fun." So I guess it was a bucket list.

The mood shifted with that, caution disintegrating and curiosity taking it's place. He was trying to include me in his adventures...which is exactly what I wanted, was it not? I let out a breath I didn't know id been holding, and shifted my face to be even with his. "Im sorry." I said, letting my shoulders relax, "I guess I just didn't expect this...no one has ever wanted to include me in something so...adult."

It sounded stupid coming from my lips, but it only caused Blakes to upturn into a booming smile, his body shuffling closer towards me. "Adulting isn't all adventure, believe me. I'm still in my teens and i've already experienced the full life of an adult."

I had to admit, from what Blake had told me about his family life, he'd lived a lifetime of experiences, when all id done is sulk in the four walls of my bedroom.

"If anything, this list is what makes us children." He carried on, "I'm right at the end of my missions, and you are right at the beginning...i'm purely your spark of inspiration."

"I have no clue what I would put on a bucket list." I replied, racking my brain for one good idea, but coming empty with a string of cliches.

"Think of me as...as your personal tour guide. These adventures are just as much yours as they are mine, and doing them in good company makes them all the more exciting." He winked, sending flutters into my tummy.

"You realise this sounds insane?" I questioned, a small smile spreading as I shoved my worries aside and listened to the butterflies telling me to live.

"It is insane. But who ever wants to be ordinary?" And with that, he stood up, confidence reinstated, Velma in his hands and the list carefully folded in his pocket, just as a pre-recorded voice announced the arrival of a late night train.

I stood up beside him, just as the roar of electricity against tracks filled the tunnel and a gust of wind roared in unison with the cold air.

The train came to a halt, and Blake moved towards the door, rucksack hanging from one shoulder. I followed him up the platform as he pushed the button and the metal split down the middle, pushing warm air into my face and introducing a peculiar smell...pickles mixed with sweat?

We stepped into the pickled warmth and were met with an empty carriage, the homeless man still on his bench and the couple no where to be seen. I took a seat to my left as Blake stood to the side of me, hand grasped around the metal pole. He looked older from the side, my position sitting down and the overhead lights highlighting the lines in his face and the pinkish scar above his eye. Yet, despite this small realisation, id still never met anyone more mysterious...I just had so many questions about him.

I snapped out of my judgement as the train jolted, marking the departure on our first adventure.

Song Dedication - Dog Days are Over, Florence + the Machine