Someday The Waves ✔ *Wattys15 Winner*

Chapter Thirteen

Early August

Just as the begonia stems grew and it's vibrant petals intensified, basking in the light of the endless summer days so did mine and Noah's friendship.

With a little care and a lot of sun, we too flourished and I found myself feeling more alive than ever before.

Sure, I still had moments when the weight of thoughts and feelings tipped the balance but it wasn't like before.

Noah and I had meandered through July rather easily but all the while still tiptoeing the invisible line that had been drawn between us, one I often wanted to cross but didn't have the courage to commit to.

And even though we knew the boundaries, somewhere along that line Noah had begun to affectionately call me Scar. Often he would appear on my doorstep, just to talk or to take a walk down along the shore. Every time I'd see his silhouette behind the porch door or his name flash up on my phone, life would seem a little brighter and all the more bearable.

For the first time in months I had a purpose and a reason to get out from under the covers each morning. I'd started to value the blisteringly hot afternoons and the freedom to seek out adventure.

Noah and I had formed an easygoing bond and a connection due to our lack of choices - we both knew we would be stuck in Pesmo for the coming summer months and that it was no fun to be alone. It helped of course that he was so charming and cheerful; his sunny deposition had affected my own general mood too.

Poppy had certainly noticed a change, and in a way I had to admit that even she had helped me move on from moping about the bungalow, with her suggestion that I clean other peoples homes, and try and make some money from it.

Which I had, surprisingly in the weeks that followed and I'd even began to enjoy working again, even if I had been reluctant to start.

At first being trusted and tasked with cleaning a stranger's home was challenging. It had taken me a while to realize I needed rubber gloves for anything bleach related and that dust is a complete bugger to shift if you don't have the right tools. I also learned the important lesson of always knocking before entering a room and that when washing kitchen floors; always start from the inside out.

Mrs Swenson had been nice and sympathetic when she found my footprints across her newly cleaned floor and had even started leaving out fresh orange and bagels for me in the mornings.

Noah asked me if it felt weird to be left alone in their homes, and if I ever felt tempted to put my feet up and pretend it was my own. Of course I had done that, a few times before the appeal wore off but really I just loved to see how other people lived and how different each and every family was.

The Swenson's were neat freaks, which I had worried would render me useless but Mrs Swenson or Jenny as she always asked me to call her still insisted she needed the help and she still paid me each week regardless of how little tidying had been done. Sometimes Noah would even stop by and help me fold laundry or make the large bed that I hadn't quite mastered.

The Wilson's on the other hand lived a chaotic life and their two storey cottage, straight from the pages of a magazine, with it's white panelled shutters and wrap around porch was testament to that. Each Thursday I would spend hours on my feet scrubbing peanut butter off the worktops and hanging out baskets full of washing, in their yard. No matter how much I tried, my next visit would always be spent re-doing the same duties, but they paid well and didn't seem to mind leaving the keys out for me to come over to check on their cats, while they holidayed somewhere nicer than Pesmo.