Behind the Cherry Tree, A Not-So-Short Story

19. A Magical Night

There's a tap running somewhere nearby. Someone's having a shower. Ugh. Leopold is using my shower. He better not use my awesome shampoo, that stuff is my favourite. 

Shit! I sit bolt upright. What the hell have I left lying around in there!? I scrape through my mind groggily. Are there tampons on the sink counter anywhere? Cramp meds? Spare clothes srunched on the floor? Oh god! I groan and sink backwards into my bed. Oh god.

Whatever, if there's something embarrasing in my bathroom at least he's related to me and the mortification will only last two more days. Then he leaves. Hopefully he won't come back.

At some point last night I must have shuffled under the blankets. I feel drained and the day hasn't even begun. I stare blearily at my clock, trying to discern the time. Blinking lights glare back at me with no meaning. Why does it feel so damn unnatural to have my eyes open right now?

"You're up early." 

Leopold. Oh dear god I don't want to see him with only my towel around him- I grimmance internally.

"Are you dressed? And how early is early exactly?"

"Uh, yeah. It's 6:30 cousin."

"6:30!" I can't find the energy to yell at him. "What the hell are you doing up at 6:30?" I groan, one arm slung across my eyes.

"Jet lag."

"The hell is that?"

"Are you stupid?"

I hiss in a breath. "Don't you even go there. I'm sorry it's too fucking early to think."

It's his turn to gasp. I smirk, eyes still shut.

"What? You never heard a gal swear before?"

He snorts derisively, not deigning my question answerable. 

"Whatever, I'm going back to sleep. Wake me up on pain of death Leopold."

And with that threat lingering in the air I slump back to sleep.

.

Hours later with sunlight streaming through my curtains I unwillingly acknowledge that I really do have to wake up this time. At least my head isn't throbbing so much this time. Shuffling around my room I wonder briefly where Leopold has gotten to, then decide that it really doesn't bother me at all.

I quickly jump in and out of the shower to wash away all the crap from yesterday. My emotions still feel a litlte bruised knowing that yesterday I officially said goodbye to my longest standing friend thus far in my life, whether he realised that he was still a friend of mine even after all he said and did was impervious to the truth. No matter how cruel he'd been I still couldn't forget the nice Mike that I knew still hid somewhere far far beneath this new horrid exterior.

For now though I make a deal with myself. I'm not going back to that damned cherry tree again. Everything I felt and feel for Mike has to end now. He's leaving for good. He's not going to change but even if he does somehow make a 360 back into the old Mike, I knew I couldn't just let him back. I had to make him understand that I wasn't a person he could piss about with as he liked.

I scrubbed my hand roughly over my face one more time before straightening out my bed covers before heading out into the crisp winter air outside, heading into the main house for lunch. I guess I've truly missed breakfast.

Skipping in through the back door I'm surprised to hear such a kerfuffle coming from in my living room. On the island is a note tucked under a plum to hold it still. Mum's unmistakable handwriting has scrawled a quick few phrases explaining that they'd taken the rellies out but left Leopold for me to entertain. Lunch was in the fridge if I woke up before they got home. Under that note is another in curly girlish handwriting. It only said three words: We're all here.