Turn of the Tide | ONC 2023

[15] The Hardest Thing

    The bag swung in Flick's grasp, and Damien stepped forward to anticipate its release into the air. When she snorted and passed the bag into his chest, he claimed it with both hands and felt around to check the camera was inside. "After all the run-around, you're just giving it back to me. Why now?"

    "I'm not giving it back to you," Flick answered, slipping her hands into her back pockets. "Miri should have her camera with her at her memorial. Even if I don't get to see it, it's what she deserves."

    As Damien approached, the audibly low rattle of the walkway revealed the fading strength of the stormy winds outside. "Not to assume anything, but..." he muttered as he swiped through his phone's photos again. He mused to himself until he stilled his scrolling fingers, reversing his device to show a map screen with a fixed address listed. The screenshot showed a cemetery across the breadth of the country from Porthdruro, far beyond anywhere Sally had been before. "I think after I've explained things, my parents won't mind you visiting Miranda."

    Flick's eyes locked onto the phone screen, and the delight that crackled in her face warmed Sally's cold, wet body. "For real? Like, they're not going to tell the groundskeepers to kick me out too, are they?" she asked, fingers flipping her plait off her shoulder.

    "I'll walk you to the site myself if I have to," Damien laughed, putting his phone away after Sally had made note of the address. "You should get the chance to see her grave too. Clearly, Miranda cared about you a lot more than me or our parents ever realised. I'm...sorry we didn't believe you, Scott."

    "It's chill, dude. I was being a brat too, remember?" A layer of raindrops trickled off the surrounding window as Flick stared through it. For once, no more water took its place, leaving nothing but thin streaks to tarnish the pebble-strewn beaches painted on the far side of the glass. As Sally moved to interrupt, Flick held her hand up. "No, I'll say it. I was petty and selfish and more bothered about sticking it to you guys than looking after Miri's memory. I guess I...just wasn't ready to let go."

    Sally took hold of the hand that Flick had released the camera bag from. "You weren't just being a brat," she said, squeezing her fingers between Flick's knuckles. A grin lit up her face as Flick turned to meet her eye. "Judging by how you described her to me, I'd say you did a pretty alright job of keeping Miranda's memory alive and well too."

    "You think so?" Flick squeezed Sally's hand back, a laugh leaving her lips. "Maybe I'm good for something after all."

    Slinging the camera bag's strap over his shoulder, Damien tapped his fingers against his thigh. "You've been good for more things than we've given you credit for," he said as he glanced outside, then cast his eyes down to his shoes. "You were a good friend to Miranda, whatever we said about you. That means something, so thank you...Flick."

    With her eyebrow cocked, Flick smirked at Damien as he drifted towards the door. "We're doing first names now? Careful, dude, I might start thinking you actually like me." She laughed and waved him away. "Move it, already! Miri needs her camera, remember? Don't keep your sister waiting, Damien."

    Damien bowed his head to step through the doorway, keeping a tight grip on the camera bag. "I'll get it to her, don't worry. Don't you keep her waiting for a visit either, alright?"

    As soon as Damien's footsteps whisked out of earshot, Flick dragged Sally by her hand down to the walkway, pulled her into her chest, and locked their lips together. Sally hooked her arm around the back of Flick's neck to catch herself as she fell, her fingers slipping through the girl's hair as Flick's tongue slipped its way into her mouth to meet her own. 

    Flick's clothes were still sodden with rain, yet that did not deter Sally from leaning into the damp pillow of Flick's chest, fiddling with the back of Flick's flannel shirt, or thinking about pulling that shirt off and casting it out the doorway. She did not even mind Flick's touch tracking down her front and along her waist, learning how sticky and weary every part of her body was on the way. It all made sense in the soft, hot embrace of their kiss.