Page 3 of True Sight (Nat. 20, #4)
HENRY
“ B ut I’m going to miss you,” my best friend, Ellie, whines from her spot on my mattress which is on the floor and covered in a heap of sheets, clothing, and a freshly emptied tape gun.
“You should come with me,” I respond, folding yet another pair of athletic shorts into the carry-on bag I’ll be bringing with me on the plane tomorrow.
My eyes dance around my empty flat and a wave of memories overtake me.
I can feel my breath start to stick in my throat as if I’m stranded in the middle of the Atlantic without a life raft.
My brain starts to meticulously count all the things I have to do once I flash my passport tomorrow and take my seat in a giant metal tube going one way.
“Oh stop with that, you know I can’t. It’s cruel of you to even suggest it, pet.” She rolls over on the last remaining piece of furniture left because it’s not able to be hauled away until tomorrow. I plan to force it into the lift and send it out with the morning bins before heading to Heathrow.
I lower myself to my knees and flash her a tight smile.
“You could have, pet .” I shake my head at her sharply, repeating the name she’s called me since we met eight years ago.
“If my memory serves me correctly, I offered for you to come with me on my grand adventure and cover your way. You’re the one who had to fall in love and suddenly be tied to this place forever. ”
Ellie and I met one night when she and her friends found their way into a gay bar by accident.
How they didn’t know it was a gay bar when they walked when it was literally named “Pickles” I’ll never know.
At the time, I was working as a bartender trying to make ends meet.
I’d just come out to my parents who, to my surprise, had no idea their one and only son was into men.
As if my lack of interest in girls or my minor infatuation with Celine Dion wasn’t enough for them to see the signs from a mile away.
Must be a straight person issue.
“Blech, Jordan really is a putz for that, ain’t he?
” She sticks out her tongue and rolls her eyes.
I chuckle as she does because unlike the straight people in my life, I’m not confused in the slightest about her feelings for her fiancé.
I knew as soon as I saw them together that he is her endgame and I couldn’t be happier for them.
“You’ll just have to do transatlantic wedding planning with me instead.
And when you can, you can come and visit me across the pond.
My new place has three bedrooms, and one of them can be yours.
” I flit a hand towards her and aggressively zip my carry-on closed.
When I spot the pack of pills on the window sill where I left it after taking my daily dose, I wretch the bag back open, stuff them inside, and force the zipper shut once more.
“I’ll send you links for what to order for my room with your new found fortune.”
“I’d hardly call it a ‘fortune,’” I correct, pushing up to my feet again and dragging my duffle bag towards the front door.
After tossing a pair of trainers next to the bag, I move towards the kitchen to make myself a midday tea.
I’d intentionally left my electric kettle unpacked and fill the vessel with water from the sink before setting it down on its base and turning it on.
“Henry, my sweet angel of a friend, what would you call it when someone leaves you their entire estate worth millions of pounds when they die?” I turn to face my brown haired friend who’s raising a brow at me.
“Uhm, the last act of love by the one person who ever really understood me?” I lament, pouring my now scalding hot water into the mug I asked Ellie to bring with her. “Would you like any?” I offer, lifting the mug up in her direction.
“Do you have a second mug?”
I squint around the kitchen, realizing that no, I do not. “We can share.”
I make my tea just as I like it—with a little bit of milk that I’d saved for today—and go to sit next to her.
She sits up and reaches for the mug, taking the first sip before I even get the chance.
Once she’s gotten her fill, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and passes the mug back to me.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do? America is a very long way from here and I don’t know if you’ve seen the headlines from over there but those people are bloody mad.”
I laugh at her warning and shake my head. We’ve had this conversation almost a hundred times already but no amount of less than cheerful anecdotes will sway my decision.
“I’m positive. Gran was sure, too, which is why she left me the money in the first place. She told me so in her letter and I want to make her proud—even from beyond the grave.”
“But you could always set up your studio here. There’s loads of people who would want to come to your classes—you’ve already built up such a strong local community anyway.” She shakes my arm and nearly whines.
She wasn’t wrong, I have built up a strong local community here in London over the last five years.
Falling in love with fitness and making it my entire career was never my original plan, it was more so something I fell into.
After my parents kicked me out and wrote me out of their life, I struggled with depression and anxiety.
Then one day Ellie asked me to go with her to a dance fitness class and the rest is history.
I came alive in ways I had never experienced in that class and knew that if it could make me feel that way, it could make other people feel that way too.
Dancing and incorporating it into fitness became almost like an obsession to me.
It helped me become more confident and self-assured and I wanted to give that to other people.
So I did the work and became a fitness instructor with a focus in dance fitness.
Over the years, I started to share my workouts online and had amassed a following of students and supporters who tuned into my live workouts each and every week.
For years I’ve wanted to open up a studio but never had the money to do so—until now.
“Ellie, I’m not staying. I’ve already got a spot for the studio picked out and the renovations start next week.
The new tenants move in here just a few days after I’m gone.
It’s a done deal.” I pat her hand to try and comfort her because I know my leaving is as big of a change for her as it is for me.
We’ve been inseparable since meeting all those years ago and she’s become like a sister to me.
She came into my life at one of my lowest points, picked up all my broken pieces, and carefully put me back together, showing me that I was still worthy of love every step of the way.
She purses her lips and blows out a breath before clicking her tongue at me.
“I know it is and I really am proud of you for going after your dream. I know how much you’ve worked for this.
It’s going to be amazing. You’re going to be amazing.
” She flings her arms around my neck and pulls me into a hug, sloshing our shared tea all over the floor in the process.
“No! That was the last bit of that,” I exclaim, pulling away from her and assessing the mess.
“Oops,” she says as her head shrinks into her shoulders. “Guess you’ll have to let me buy you a fresh cup then.”
“This is your way of getting me to procrastinate on my packing—it won’t work you know.
I will be getting on that plane tomorrow and you’ll be the one paying to ship the stuff that didn’t get packed because of your little distractions.
” I flick a hand at her as I walk to find some paper towels to mop up the spilt tea.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She sighs, standing from our spot on the mattress. “Come on, pet, let me buy you a fresh spot of tea.” She flings her purse over her shoulder and looks at me over the bridge of her small, rectangle sunglasses looking as posh as ever.
Tossing the sopping wet paper towels into the bin, I rinse my hands quickly and grab the keys to my flat before stepping up next to her.
“Think those southerners you’re about to call your neighbors will be able to make anything that even resembles a proper cup of tea? Do they even know what good tea is in Charlestown ?” she jeers.
“ Charleston ,” I correct. “And yes, I’ll have you know that the only tea garden in the entire country is just outside of the city. I discovered that little fact one evening while I was researching my new home.”
“ One tea garden? Just one?” She draws out her words to depict just how sad she finds my fun fact. “I’ll be sure to send you a monthly box of real tea.”
I roll my eyes at her and open the front door, waving for her to go ahead of me. As I turn to pull the door closed, I take in my place and lick my lips apprehensively knowing that it will be one of the last times I do.