𝙾𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢-𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

My eyes open to the cascade of light sweeping in through the ceiling window. Tree canopies bend up above, a morning breeze rustling in silence. I would have fallen asleep sometime within Benji's euphony. But Benji doesn't reside next to me. I sit up to see him in slumber across The Bus, covered in his camping swag. Benji's eyes flitter open and gaze at me. Then his mouth catches up to his wakefulness.

"Sleep well?" Benji murmurs.

I answer with a yes and realise it's the first time in months where I haven't woken up before the sun and filled with thoughts of all I haven't achieved. "How come you didn't sleep in the bed?" I ask. Surely it would have been more comfortable.

"Because it would be inappropriate," Benji says, his eyebrows coming together.

We aren't kids anymore, of course. Long gone are the days of having Billie sleep next to me with Benji's feet between us. My heart swells a little for Benji and I realise I respect him more. I can't say the boys I've dated this year would have been so gracious.

"I didn't want to leave you here alone so I went back to the house and grabbed my swag."

Benji sits up now, his red long-sleeve tight over his torso and arms. His curls hang loose upon his shoulders. Benji gazes at me.

"I should have told you this a long time ago," Benji says, "I really like you, Eden."

Looking into his ochre eyes, I take a moment before asking, "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Why didn't you tell me ages ago?!

"Well, I meant to tell you on Valentine's Day but an old mate of mine asked you to the Ball a few days before."

I can't help but notice the sourness when Benji addresses Mick.

"When I organised that surf session, just the two of us... I meant to tell you how I felt and ask you to be my Ball date. Ask you on a date external to that."

Now my heart is totally swollen. Filled with Benji. The Ball would have been so much better if I had gone with him. Instead, I went with Mick the Prick who always smelt like he didn't shower between gym sessions but on the other hand, not looking like he went to the gym. "I wish you had been my Ball date," I confess.

"I would have made it the best night," Benji smiles, "Would you like to go on a date with me now?"

"Of course," I reply, actually hoping Benji hears my enthusiasm. And I am suddenly conscious of how gross I may look. Scarecrow hair, new pimples, dried saliva on my cheeks.

If I do look horrendous, Benji is oblivious. A smile lights up his face, dimples deep.