When We Were Younger
middle of the night, my thoughts swam with images I couldn’t quite explain. My mind was up and running and clearly had no intention of sparing me a good night’s sleep. I slipped out of my bedsheets and left Gene fast asleep, I wasn’t quite fond of her but I still didn’t want to be as malicious as to wake her when she’d spared me the experience earlier that day.
I made my way into the kitchen and put some warm milk onto the stove to heat it up in the hopes that it’d help me rest. I poured the milk into a glass and found my way to the outside porch to bathe in the moonlight and clear my head. I sat on the porch swing and took a sip from my glass. I almost didn’t hear River when he walked onto the porch and loomed over me blocking the moonlight.
‘Who in their right mind drinks milk?’ He asked and I rolled my eyes at him,
‘My bad I didn’t mean to upset the rabbit king and his empire of carrots and tofu.’ I scoffed and he smiled in amusement before sitting down next to me and watching the night sky just as I did.
Sometimes I couldn’t help but feel like I was nothing but a nuisance to him, like while I relished his presence he merely tolerated mine. Like he only hung out with me because he felt like he had to because he felt pity for me. It was a thought I didn’t often want to entertain but it crept up on me when I least expected it. I gazed down at my glass and then at the silver cross around River’s neck, he was almost always wearing it.
‘My parents are Catholics.’ River said breaking the empty silence, ‘My mother gave it to me when I was twelve at my baptism.’
“You didn’t have to tell me that.” I reminded him.
“I wanted to.” He insisted, his captivating eyes holding my gaze, pinning me in place.
‘Are you religious yourself?’ I asked and I’d actually been meaning to ask for a while actually.
“I do not think so…” he wavered, seeming confused.
“My family is extremely religious and I went to church every Sunday when I was a child and all throughout my teenage years.” I disclosed, “What about you?”
‘Well, I was once,’ River replied, playing with the silver cross between his fingers.
“You’re incredibly vague, Kennedy,” I told him.
“Is that so?” He bantered.
‘Sometimes I feel like you merely tolerate me.’ I finally let slip, I couldn’t not say how I felt anymore.
River tilted my chin so I was looking him in the eye, his hypnotic sapphire eyes more stern than I’d ever seen them,
‘That’s not true,’ River assured me and I wanted to believe him, I wanted to.
‘Then why do we never talk?’ I queried not giving up so easily,
‘We’re talking right now.’ He said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes,
‘No, like really talk.’ I clarified and he narrowed his eyes In question, he paused for a moment before he asked,
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Tell me about your parents for starters,’ I suggested putting my legs up, and hugging them closer, the air was warm from the autumn breeze, and the swing swayed a little.
‘Ma mère et mon père married young, almost immediately after they graduated. They met at a Catholic boarding school somewhere in North Dakota in the US. I was born a year later in Marseille; mon père wanted me to be born where he was.’ River explained and I listened quietly, ‘However I spent the majority of my years in London hence the enigma that Is my accent, I’ve been told it’s rather prominent but I don’t hear it anyways.’
“You don’t hear it?” I marvelled stifling a giggle,
“No.” He answered.
“Say sike right now!” I gasped.
“Sike?” He responded, seeming puzzled, “What does that mean?”
“It means say you’re joking,” I explained.
“But I’m not.” He remarked.
‘Whatever, well I’ll be the one to tell you, that you definitely have an accent, especially when you call me Ar-mar-knee.’ I laughed and he did too.
‘Is that not how your name is pronounced?’ He retorted, ‘I’m genuinely curious.’
‘Fine, you just don’t sound Kenyan enough when you say it,’ I admitted breaking the news to him,
‘Wow, I’m hurt.’ River winced dramatically,
‘But I like the way you say it, it sounds…fancier and prettier I guess, like it’s not even me you’re referring to anymore,’ I murmured, hiding my face with my hands in embarrassment, River paused before he continued.
‘Ma mère is from Spain and whenever people ask me where I’m from I never know how many countries to start listing so I just say I’m very white,’ River told me and I nearly choked on air with laughter.
‘Mon père was always busy with the company and I never saw him much but every time I did he made it count, my parents….they are the best people I have ever known.’ River’s eyes lit up when he talked about them, I swore it was the most pure thing I’d ever seen. “They always make an effort, no matter the weather and that is admirable.”
“It really is,” I assured him,
‘When we finally settled in Marseille I spent a lot of time alone in my room painting, sculpting or exploring museums on my own. But that was all until my parents took me to meet our neighbours with claims that they had a son about my age, and that it’d be good for me to make friends and all that shit.’ River paused and his eyes darkened as his sentence began to trail off, ‘That was when I first met Jace Monet.’
‘It’s okay.’ I told him as I placed my hand on his, and he let me, ‘You can tell a different story?’
River gave me a sad little laugh, ‘There’s no story of mine without him in it.’
‘Oh.’ I realised not knowing precisely what to say, but also wanting to lighten the mood ‘Well my childhood was the time of my life, I grew up in Nairobi with a very big and traditional family. I had lots of cousins to play with and talk to about all the things that fascinated me. My grandma would tell me stories all the time and I would still swear on everything that I was that she was better than any JK Rowling.’ I laughed,
“Anyone is better than her.” River scorned.
“True!” I affirmed. ‘Anyways, that was until I moved away to Florida of course, I had quite the culture shock and everyone sounded different and acted different— it took some time for me to adjust to everything.’
“I have been adjusting all my life.” He whispered. “But…it’s strange.”
“What is?” I wondered,
“I never felt like I had to adjust to you.” He disclosed and I could’ve sworn that my heart skipped a beat, “It’s so easy to just exist alongside you.”
“You’re quite the ladies’ man aren’t you, Kennedy?”
“Ladies man?” He repeated almost as if the idea sounded ridiculous.
“You’re the kind of person who doesn’t need anyone to remind you that you’re beautiful.” I mused with a slight smile. “You just…know it and act like it.”
‘I like it when you talk.’ River admitted, ‘It makes me forget.’
‘Forget what? I asked just as Gene made her way onto the porch with us too.
‘Why are you two vampires awake, it’s almost midnight?’ Gene asked and River and I just gave each other a knowing smile. ‘Whatever, I can join you, let me go make some snacks!’ She suggested before she disappeared into the kitchen, I didn’t really want any if I was being completely honest.
River squeezed my hand so hard that I didn’t even realise he was still holding it and whispered, ‘Let’s go.’
‘Where?’ I whisper-laughed but he just got up and pulled me along with him into the attic, we made sure our footsteps were quiet enough that Gene didn’t realise we’d snuck away. River grabbed an oil lamp and closed the attic door behind us, the luminance of the lamp giving the room an iridescent glow.
There was an old reading chair in the corner of the room and I pushed River onto it before planting a kiss on his lips. I liked that he was not surprised by my actions and that I took it that I could just kiss him whenever I wanted now.
‘Pick a book,’ River suggested and I made my way over to the shelf and picked out the Swiss copy of Gone With The Wind. I handed it over to him and he brushed the dust off of the hardcover.
‘Wise choice.’ River complimented and I looked around for a place to sit but there wasn’t another chair and I wasn’t about to sit on the cold dirty floor.
River laughed and pulled me into his lap, now that took me by surprise. I relaxed and leaned my head into the nape of his neck. He opened up the book and started reading it to me, his voice like a lullaby, and only in his arms am I but a babe. He ran his hand slowly down my back as I listened to the sound of his voice telling a story I’d heard many times before.
But It sounded good only on his lips.
And I felt alive only in his arms.
Our little trip to Geneva was short but eventful and I learned a lot about everyone and we were all definitely closer than we were before. I never thought things would get so heated in one of the coldest places in the world.
Keomi, Mer, and I had been studying in our room for hours because of exam week, every student within range was beyond stressed out. I hadn’t seen River all week nor Fabes or Gene, this was the first time I was seeing Merilla In a few days. My parents had been calling relentlessly to make sure I was studying because God forbid I let them down even once and they couldn’t brag to their friends about me anymore. I was their shiny trophy on the shelf that was their lives, they showed me off and I relished in the spotlight. Just then Keomi’s phone started ringing,
‘Oh shit, I forgot, sorry I’ll be right there.’ She spoke and got up immediately to put on her shoes.
‘Where’re you off to?’ I asked taking notes from my maths textbook,
‘I promised Gene I would go get boba with her.’ She told us before heading out the door, ‘I’ll be back by five.’
Then it was just Mer and I and she kept throwing glances at me like she wanted to say something, so I just closed my book and stared back at her until she started to talk.
‘Fine.’ She sighed, ‘What’s going on between you and RK?’
‘Nothing, we’re just friends,’ I told her and she scoffed,
“No sane person would ever be ‘just friends’ with someone who looks like he does.” Mer excused.
“I sure can!” I lied sarcastically.
‘Also, Just friends don’t look at each other like that.’ Mer retorted,
‘Like what?’ I repeated and she mimics the ‘look’ she was referring to.
‘Oh River, let’s go on secret adventures together and find excuses to sleep in so you can make out passionately with me.’ Mer gushed acting out the scene and I tossed my pillow at her,
‘Okay okay, I get your point now please stop!’ I laughed, ‘We’ve only ever kissed like once.’ I lied still not wanting to spill the whole can of beans,
‘No fucking way!’ Mer exclaimed, ‘You kissed?”
‘Shhh, yeah It’s not a big deal.’ I assured her, ‘And I’m sure he’s had lots of girlfriends.’
‘Girl this is the first time I’ve heard River Kennedy and girlfriend in the same sentence.’ Mer told me, ‘Come to think of it in all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never really seen him with a girl before.’
I didn’t know what to say to that, and quite frankly I didn’t believe it, I mean there was no way River never had a girlfriend I mean he was incredibly talented and attractive it just didn’t add up. And I didn’t bother to entertain the thought of being the first, the thought of being his first.
That’s if I was even his….anything.
‘I’m sure he snuck them all away to his secret tower in the middle of nowhere.’ Mer figured and I laughed, we both did.
“Maybe he did.” I wondered gazing out the open window.
“Maybe he wants it that way.”
After my little study session with Mer, I made my way to my art class. You’d be surprised how heavy art supplies are to carry across campus. We all settled down into our seats, I took notice of River who was wearing a plain white Dior t-shirt and those edgy-looking razor blade earrings, he’d painted his nails black and I thought they looked pretty. I liked that he wasn’t afraid to express his femininity in the littlest things. So many guys had trouble doing that and found themselves unable to express themselves in the ways they want to because of toxic masculinity. But I guess that wasn’t River. Not at all. One of the things I liked about him was that he was so secure in who he was that outside opinions would never be enough to get to him. It was admirable, maybe I could be like that someday.
Monsieur Etienne rushed into class and told everyone to remain silent while he made an announcement.
‘There’s going to be an art competition held at the museum of modern art Wednesday night.’ He announced and everyone was on the edge of their seats. ‘Now I know this is pretty last minute but if you can find it in yourselves to create a masterpiece worthy of winning, you’ll get the opportunity to have your painting displayed in the museum for an entire week!’
‘Excusez-moi monsieur, but who will be judging?’ A girl who I think was called Elle asked,
‘The competition will be judged by Art Critic Eloise Alarie, now I suggest you do your best, it’s not often that opportunities like this are made available to such young talents like yourselves so make the best of it, bonne chance!’
I could already see everyone making notes and researching their ideas but I know exactly what I’m going to submit to Madame Alarie, But I had examinations all week and I wasn’t going to have the time to craft something new without sacrificing my grades in my other classes. I wished that I had the time, but I didn’t. So I would submit my lost girl painting. You could never go wrong with what you know, right? That painting was what won me the Ohio exhibit and got me into this very school. I made my way over to Monsieur to tell him the news.
‘Monsieur I’ll be submitting my Lost Girl painting to the competition,’ I told him and he looked almost disappointed,
‘Madame Nnandi, as your mentor I can tell you now that you must consider something new.’ He suggested placing a hand on the table,
‘Désolé monsieur but you said yourself that it’s a good piece no?’ I retorted, “I don’t think I’ll have the time to make something new.”
‘Good, yes, but good enough? That may beg to differ in a competition like that.’ He delivered, ‘Are you certain of your decision?’
‘I am sure, I’ll be submitting that painting,’ I assured him, it had gotten me that far and hopefully it could have gotten me even further.
Monsieur gave me a disappointed laugh fixing his glasses, ‘Very well then, best of luck.’ He told me and I smiled making my way back to my seat.
As I made my way over to my seat I passed by Victoria’s desk and saw her open sketchbook, it was a sketch of a ballerina dancing on a ledge, on one side you’ve got an adoring audience, and on the other, you’ve got all the terrible things she did to get to that place, all the terrible things she did to stay on top.
‘You’re very talented Tori.’ I complimented and she shrugged with a laugh,
‘Everyone here is talented.’ She reminded me looking around the room, ‘It’s just a matter of who makes the cut, and unfortunately, not everyone is granted such a privilege.’
‘You’ve got to believe in yourself more, if you don’t believe that you’re the best I can assure you that no one else will.’ I advised her and her dark brown eyes remained firmly on me, ‘Too many great artists wither away from their own self-destruction.’
‘I can assure you Armani that I’m no Van Gogh.’ Victoria shrugged,
‘Or Richard Gerstl or Constance Mayer,’ I added as a joke and she laughed, “They both drove themselves rather mad with talent.”
Then my gaze shifted to River who was wholly focused on his art at the moment and paying attention to no one as per usual. Victoria followed my gaze and smiled knowingly.
‘I’ll ask you this only once, do you fancy Kennedy?’ She asked and my cheeks caught fire at her words.
‘What? No, of course not.’ I lied and she laughed,
‘There’s no point denying it, anyone with eyes can see that he’s fit.’ Victoria retorted, ‘Look if you really fancy him I’ll back off, he’s got a little too much baggage for my taste anyways.’
“And here I thought your dream job was in baggage claim?” I joked.
“Oh, never.” She assured me, shaking her head.
I promised Fabian that I’d have lunch with him so I made my way onto the patch of grass on the main campus where he was waiting for me on a red and white picnic blanket and a straw basket in hand. I waved at him and he smiled, beginning to unload the contents of the basket.
‘What’s on the menu Fabes?’ I asked and his eyes gleamed with amusement,
‘For starters, we’ve got carrot sticks and hummus.’ He declared placing the little bowls in front of me,
‘Cute.’ I laughed, ‘And?’
‘For the main course, we’ve got turkey and cucumber cream cheese sandwiches from my mom’s cafe.’ He told me and I smiled. It was nice that he put so much effort into this. ‘And for dessert, we’ve got chocolate chip cookies.’
‘Thanks for doing all this Fabian, you didn’t have to.’ I thanked him placing my hands on his,
‘I haven’t seen you all week, it’s the least I could do with everyone being stressed out because of exams and everything, it’s nice to take a breather sometimes.’ He replied taking a bite out of a carrot and dipping it in hummus,
‘I really appreciate it, I really appreciate you,’ I assured him and he smiled. Fabian had a really pretty smile. By the time we were done eating, it was almost time for me to go back to my dorm and study again, it was torturous.
‘I have a competition at the museum of the arts on Wednesday,’ I told him and he looked almost as excited as I was when I heard the news,
‘What really?’ He gleamed, ‘You’ve got all my support, I’m rooting for you Nnandi.’
It was nice to know what he was, I didn’t realise it then but Fabian always was.
