Page 120 of Sad Girl Hours
The only correct response to a face like that is to kiss it, which I do for the next few minutes.
I pull away after that, though, ignoring Nell’s adorable frown, and pat the notebook. “Show me. Now, please.”
“So bossy,” Nell grumbles, picking up the book. “But fine. Here.” She begins to read.
“I’ ll love you in the spring
when everything’s unfurling and piercing the earthand the fields are strewn with new life.
I’ ll love you in the summer
when the air is sweet with warmth and the sun is the main character in everything I write and the day stretches on into the would-be night.
I’ ll love you in the autumn
when everything draws back in, embracing itself, and change wears a dress of burnt orange as she whispers in our ears that she’ ll take care of us.
I’ ll love you in the winter
when the skylines are unblemished with detail and the joy we light the skies with was made in factories but displayed in the cool open air.
And then I’ ll love you in the spring
when the earth says, ‘Let’s do this again.’
And we reply, ‘Yes. Let’s.’”
God, how she kills me with her words.
I focus right back in on those hazel eyes, securing us in the moment with my gaze. “I love you too,” I say. “So,somuch. It sounds so inadequate after all of that, but—”
“It sounds perfect from where I’m sitting,” Nell says. “Say it again.”
I roll my eyes. “So bossy.” But I oblige because I love the way the words sound slipping off my tongue and the effect they have on Nell’s face.
“I love you.”
We’re only in March and it won’t be spring officially for a couple more weeks, but truthfully? I’ve felt it beginning since January.
“Freedom, sweet freedom.” Casper lolls backwards, resting his head on Jenna’s stomach. “Four whole months where I don’t have to think about soil or rocks, and I can instead focus entirely on my feelings of impending doom.”
“Sounds dreamy, my love.” Jenna reaches down to ruffle his hair.
“You know what else sounds dreamy?” Vivvie says. “Getting feeling back in my right thumb. It’s been poked with a needle so many times that it may genuinely be too late for it. My final project is going to have to be something incredible, so I’m probably going to be sewing non-stop when we get back in October.”
We’re all up on the hill in the park to celebrate the summer solstice and have one last night together before we go ourseparate ways for the holidays. Although I’m going back with Nell until August, when we’ll be coming back here for a while to sort out our new place, ready for the other three to join us in September.
I’m anticipating a lot of chaos, all five of us in one house for our final year of uni, but also a whole lot of fun. And not just because Nell’s bedroom will be right across the hall.
I passed my second-year exams, not exactly with flying colours, but it was enough. I get to keep going, keep poking around up there and doing what I love. And honestly? I can’t wait.
“Don’t worry, Vivvie. We’ll all help,” Nell says. “We can slide food under your door at regular intervals—”
“Or, worst comes to the worst,” Jenna says, “we’ll just pull the fire alarm at your showcase again and get you crazy publicity.”
Hilariously, because so many of the pieces were designed with sustainability in mind, the sprinkler incident at the showcase was spun by journalists into an intentional piece of activism/performance art. The university – thankfully – was more than happy to go with that and not think about who did it. I still berated them all for going to such extreme measures to get Nell to come out to me that night, though, and for nearly getting her attacked by a hypothetical bear, even if it was all in the name of love.
“I would never do the same thing twice. How predictable.” Vivvie looks horrified. “We’ll come up with something else equally dramatic. Jenna, you can help me brainstorm.”
