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The rest of what he says might as well be static.
Usually, he’s the one who can’t focus.
Now, it’s me.
I know he talks and then points at an image of a book with a starry cover. He also points at boats on choppy waters, and I tune back into him saying, “None of us can change where we’ve sailed from. My first hero stopped me from sinking. Taught me to never give up on people while their journey isn’t over. My second hero confirmed it. Now I’m making a career out of doing the same. You can too. That’s pretty cool, right? Worth sticking it out here at Glynn Harber just in case you can make a difference to someone else’s journey one day?”
The kids nod.
He does too before saying, “Show me how your stories pan out one day, yeah? Track me down. I want to hear where your journeys take you. And if you ever need help drawing yours, I got you.”
I guess that’s the end of his session because he untacks that roll of paper and slides it away in his portfolio.
I’m aware that the kids roll up their journeys as well. I hear plenty of them sayingthanks, andgood luck in London, andsmash it, sir,before we’re alone together in the clearing.
Rae slings his portfolio over his shoulder before joining me at the tree line. Fallen leaves are thicker here but haven’t dried yet. They’re as soft underfoot as him saying, “I thought we already said goodbye.”
I nod.
He does too. Then he snorts. “Great minds think alike. I was gonna come and find you before?—”
A horn beeps in the distance.
Rae glances in that direction. “Shit. That’s my ride.”
I nod again, still silent because everything I came here to say has dried in my mouth.
Rae wets his lips. “Listen, I’ve been thinking. Maybe I don’t need to shut myself away in the studio my agent offered. I could meet the head of this charity and then come straight back on the last train tonight.”
“No.”
He doesn’t listen. Or maybe he didn’t hear my croak over the sound of a zipper opening. “Because I think I’ve already got all the images I need. Look.”
He digs in a portfolio that might be filled with more of what Sol already showed me. I back off before he can show me more versions of my own face in pencil. Or in ink as permanent as I wish we could be if I hadn’t heard him say,there’s no future in it.
I’ve been slide-tackled plenty. Was trained to defend myself against it by running forward. To attack.
Today, all I can do is retreat.
Willow fronds part around me.
Rae follows me through that curtain. It closes behind him, and every single time we’ve been here before, we’ve kissed where no one else could see us. Now, I keep backing away, putting distance between us.
“Wait,” he blurts. “I’ll show you. I’ve already got the whole story, Hayden. Been drawing and drawing without realising I already had everything I needed.”
“You don’t have time to show me.” I swallow thickly, still backing away, and almost stumbling, which is wild after all that academy training about how to stay upright even with my hands tied behind me. I’m so off-balance this stutters from me. “N-not if you want to make your train.”
He keeps coming.
I keep retreating.
The other side of that willow curtain divides us again.
He shoves his way through it, moving faster.
“Maybe I want to be free this weekend. Foryou. For the girls’ birthday?”
The internet told me that impulsiveness is another key ADHD indicator. One which could jeopardise the only chance he has for the same brighter future he just promised all those students.
