11.
chapter eleven
I Know.

The sun above glinted off the dark metal of our car, warming the surface so much that I could barely open the door without scorching my hand. 

And Dad had the nerve to joke about it. 

"She can't open the door, but she's gonna drive." He was all smiles, but I knew, deep down, he was already missing the short vacation from work and city life. 

"Dad~" I groaned, motioning for him to quicken things up and stuff our backpacks in. He lugged one suitcase into the boot, then gave up. 

"We have time to leave, don't we?" he sighed, holding a hand up to his eyes. I nodded after checking my phone for the time, and that was all the confirmation he needed to leave the hot air and seek the air conditioning of Uncle Meyer's home. 

My eyes glanced back at my phone, the time lighting up the screen among other notifications—navigation turned on, the weather being pretty humid, and the antivirus protecting my phone from malware. 

We planned to leave town at eleven to avoid both the morning and afternoon heat. Pallet was known for heatwaves during the peak hours of nine to ten. Thus, several schools and workplaces only opened after eleven. 

Seeing as the clock had barely slid past 9:23, I decided to retreat and grab a drink before loading the car with all the souvenirs, trinkets, and things Uncle Meyer had bought for us to take home. 

But the minute I turned on my heel, I knew I would be dialing Mom and telling her I needed some time to get back to being a coolie. 

My hands clasped behind me, I took slow, careful steps. The air was crisp with a comfortable silence that could also be termed as the apprehension that only came with parting. 

Ash reached a hand out when we paused at the foot of the hill we were supposed to scale. I quirked an eyebrow at his brave action. 

"How will you push your cycle?" I asked. "Besides, we're not kids, you know?" 

The boy shrugged, still not giving up. So, I obliged, letting our fingers meld together the way they always had been. Perhaps this would be the last time I would hold his hand. 

The ascent was not easy, but somehow, with Ash by my side talking about anything and everything and tugging me along whenever I fell behind, it felt like a piece of cake. 

Once we reached our tree, both of us flopped down onto the soft grass and relished the shade our sycamore buddy gave us. I drew in a sharp breath, prepared to speak. 

"I visited Shake and Shack yesterday, but I didn't see you there—" 

"I was doing grouped deliveries yesterday so that I could see you today—" 

The minute we blurted out what had been weighing on our hearts, laughter bubbled up in the atmosphere. I let it die down and watched as Ash lay beside me, his arms serving as his pillow. 

"What's with grouped deliveries?" 

"I did ten batches of grouped deliveries ranging from within Pallet up to Viridian," he explained, seemingly unaffected by the heavy gust that stirred our hair and clothes. "They let me off for an hour or two if I do that. I just requested to be let off today so that I could be here to wave bye." 

A lump formed in the back of my throat, and I hastened to swallow. "You didn't have to do that. We did exchange numbers, after all." 

"It's not the same as being here." 

I exhaled slowly, watching the leafy canopy above us shift with the soft breeze. He was right. Even if we texted, called, or even FaceTimed, it wouldn't equal the warmth I felt lying beside him. 

"Mhm." 

Ash turned to me, the morning sun filtering through the leaves to sun-kiss his glimmering brown eyes. My breath caught when he abruptly stood up and extended a hand. "Remember when we first came here? When we scribbled our names on the bark?" 

I sat up, a wave of déjà vu rushing through me. This place was where he found me, lost and crying all my tears out. This place was where we returned nearly a year ago, racing each other up the hill, chasing the vast sky above. This place was where we returned again, a little longer after Grandfather left for eternity, to promise that we would never forget each other on the dark wood. 

"The first time, I lost myself in this foreign land," I whispered, tilting my head up at him. He still held out a hand like he would wait forever. 

Then, in a tone as soft as the rustling leaves, he spoke. "We would have never met if you didn't get lost." 

The corners of my lips tugged up, satisfied. "You almost broke your arm trying to race me up." 

"I did win." The determined glint in his eye reminded me of the time he wanted to help a sobbing city girl out of the wilderness. 

"I chipped my manicured nails trying to etch the 'S' on the bark." I reached forward, and his fingers met mine halfway. He pulled me up with more force than necessary, and I hit his shoulder softly. 

"But our name remains here forever." His breath tickled my exposed neck. I closed my eyes, taking in as much warmth as possible before withdrawing. 

His glimmering brown orbs dissolved into mine, like he wasn’t staring at me as just the girl standing before him but rather as the girl he knew without being there physically. It somehow egged me on while also making me want to cover myself up further. 

I hesitated, doubt clouding my better judgment, before giving in and reaching for his cap. Let these feelings be damned if I didn’t get this one thing from him. 

Before Ash could react, I tipped the hat forward, hiding us from the rest of the old-fashioned world. The shade settled over us, and then I kissed him—a tiny peck. Just a press of lips against his, a squeeze of my fingers laced through his—yet it swelled my heart with warm affection for this boy I called Ash. 

We came apart fairly quickly, though the sunlit moment seemed too long to be accounted for. I couldn't bring myself to look at him, so I occupied myself with righting his hat. 

But then, a pair of warm palms pressed on my wrists and pulled them down to the space between us. I was forced to meet his penetrating, sizzling gaze. 

"Just my way of saying goodbye." I nervously tried to laugh it off, but he didn’t seem to be buying it. 

"I told you, didn’t I?" His throat had gone hoarse, like it wasn’t the little boy I knew but rather a young man in bloom. "That I didn’t see you that way." 

My stomach clenched. But I couldn't let the squirming thing within my ribs betray my composure as a girl from Goldenrod City. 

Ash had this weird influence on me that, I realized with alarm, even Calem lacked. Thoughts of him would forever consume me when I loudly breathed out a sentence. So extraordinarily loud that he didn't catch the faintest hint of my heart shattering. 

"I know."