Page 99 of Save Me

“Talk to me,” I whisper.

James looks darkly back at me. In the end, he gives in and takes a deep breath. “I know that Oxford means the world to you, which is why it’s so hard for me to talk to you about it, but…to me, I find all the drama a bit silly.”

I try not to let that get to me. Not everyone has the same dreams and ambitions. James feeling that way has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him.

“When I was in the interview earlier…Everything just moved on around me. Like in a black-and-white film that someone’s fast-forwarding, and I’m the only person who doesn’t budge.”

“If you really don’t want to study here, or go into your parents’ firm—what would you rather do instead?”

He shakes his head, and I see the panic in his eyes. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“Why not?” I stroke his cheek and feel how rough his skin is there. There’s a bit of stubble coming through, and he’ll have shaved it off in the morning. But James looks amazing with a five o’clock shadow.

“You were right when you said that I don’t know what I want from life. I don’t think about everything I could do, because if I allow myself to dream, it just makes everything all the more depressing afterward.”

He still thinks that he has no chance to take control of his own life. But why would he, when there’s a legacy like that waiting for him, like a huge burden on his shoulders?

“Dreams are important, James,” I whisper.

“Then you’re my dream.”

For a moment, that takes my breath away, but I quickly realize that that was cheating—that he’s just trying to avoid responding to what I just said. “I’m afraid that’s not how it works.”

He gives me a wonky smile. “Yeah, that would’ve been too easy.”

“So, what do you like? What gives you a buzz?”

He has to think about that for a moment. I feel that he’s suddenly tense, and I kiss his chest as if to tell him that it’s OK and to take his time.

“I like lacrosse,” he begins hesitantly. “And books. Art. Good music. Oh, and spicy food. Spicy Asian food, to be precise. Someday, I’d like to go to Bangkok and try all kinds of things in the street markets there.”

I grin into his skin. “What, like deep-fried locusts?”

“Exactly.” His tension gradually eases.

“That all sounds in the realm of possibility.”

“Those are things you do on holiday, not goals in life.”

I run my hand in gentle circles around his stomach. “It’s a start. You could do all those things if you stopped getting in your own way.”

James says nothing.

I have an idea. Abruptly, I stand up and hunt for my underwear on the floor. I find everything right next to the bed and slip into my knickers first, then my bra. I spot a gray T-shirt of James’s on the chair by the desk. I pull it on and then turn my attention to the desk.

“What are you doing?” James asks behind me. I grab his black notebook, the one with the fancy “B,” and a pen, then turn to face him. He’s pulled his boxer shorts back on too.

“We’re going to make a list,” I answer, clambering back into bed with the book.

James looks inquiringly at me. I tap the mattress beside me. The bed is still warm, and the scent of James is all around me. Slowly, he comes toward me, his eyes suspicious. The mattress sags beneath his weight as he sits down.

I lean over him to switch on the bedside lamp. Then I open his notebook in my lap.

“Whenever I feel bad, I make lists. Ever since I was little, it’s helped me to stay focused and to keep a clear head. Even when things aren’t going so well,” I explain. “I find inspiring quotes or make notes of things I want to do one day, or want to change about the world, or whatever.” I pick up the pen. “I normally make it all a bit more colorful, but this will have to do.”

The suspicion vanishes from his face, and he smiles. “You want to make a list like that for me?”

I nod. “Maybe it’ll help motivate you too.”

---