I climb up after him. There’s lots of traffic and he’s already halfway across the bridge, but there are no other people, only him.
‘Akash!’ I call after him. ‘Stop! Please!’
He spins round to face me. His face is soft and his eyes shine bright as always.
He has stubble on his cheeks.
My breath catches in my throat. ‘It really is you,’ I say. ‘You came back!’
The traffic calms. The stars fade. The moon disappears.
The moon is full and bright, and I try to focus on that, try to distract myself, but it’s not working. Nothing’s working.
We’re standing in the middle of the garden, Akash and me. Bare feet on crisp, dry grass. Akash has brought me out here because Mum and Dad are arguing inside. Their voices are getting louder.
I feel sick. I’m breathing fast, as fast as I can, because there’s not enough air and I need more. My chest is tight. It hurts. My whole body hurts. I try not to cry.
Akash crouches down next to me. ‘Breathe in deep,’ he tells me, his voice low and calm. ‘Like I showed you, yeah? Deep into your belly.’ He presses his hands against his stomach.
I nod. Akash knows all about helping me breathe. He’s fourteen and I’m eleven. We’ve done this before.
I close my eyes, ready to breathe into my belly. But everything – my chest, throat, my whole body – is too tight. Dad’s still shouting but Mum’s now quiet. Somehow that’s even worse. Pain shoots across my chest, up my arms, my legs. ‘I can’t!’ I tell Akash, my eyes flicking open.
There’s a lump in my throat the size of the moon. The moon has fallen out of the sky and down my throat. That’s impossible, I know, but this is how it feels. The tears I’ve been holding back drip down my cheeks.
Akash buries his hands deep into his jeans pockets, his eyes bright. ‘You can. Try again. And think of somewhere nice this time. Remember?’
I nod. Dry my cheeks. Yes, somewhere nice. A happy place. I keep my eyes open this time; focus on Akash’s wonky smile and straight teeth. I picture the seaside we go to in the summer. See Mum and Dad lying on the beach. I hear waves crashing against rocks. Feel my toes sink into warm sand. Smell salt and doughnuts.
And I breathe. Deep. Into my belly. Eventually, my chest stops hurting. My body feels looser. And, although my chest is still a bit tight, the moon is back in the sky, not in my throat.
‘Do you think they’re … getting a divorce?’ I ask, remembering my best friend, Raheela. She cried for months when her dad left. Even in lessons.
‘Nah. It’s just a disagreement.’ Akash shrugs. ‘It happens.’
‘Really? You’re sure?’
He nods. ‘Don’t worry, OK?’
We sit down on the grass, facing away from the house, looking towards the shed at the back of the garden. Mum and Dad are now quiet. Maybe Akash is right.
‘You’re very wise,’ I tell him, smiling now.
Akash laughs. He drapes his arm round my shoulders and I press my face into his soft, cosy hoody. He smells like he always smells: of deodorant, mints and cigarette smoke. ‘Yeah, full of the wisdom, me! What would you do without me, eh?’
Akash walks across the bridge towards me. My legs are heavy and my throat aches. But I manage to step towards him too. And then we’re so close we could touch. Rain falls on us, soft as snow.
‘I knew you’d come back for me,’ I whisper.
Akash tilts his head. ‘Is it you?’ he says. ‘You … you look different.’
‘Of course it’s me!’ My throat hurts. ‘Have I changed that much?’
He scratches his chin. ‘No, no …’ he says. ‘It’s great to see you.’
‘Yes,’ I say, my breath as light as air. ‘You too.’ And then I reach out. I reach out to touch him.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Time.
Slows.
Down.
Like the beating of my heart.
A car beeps its horn. I catch my breath. I touch him. My brother. I touch my brother’s arm. And his hoody is damp, but it’s also soft, and I feel the warmth of him through it.
Light fills the sky. The sun comes out. A warm breeze blows over us.
I sink into his soft white hoody. It smells of smoke and deodorant and whisky and mint. I breathe him in. Hold him tight. My whole body shakes.
I’ve missed you, I want to say. I love you. But the words are stuck in my chest.
‘Where did you go?’ I manage to ask, the words scratching out of my throat.
Akash shrugs. ‘I … I’ve been busy,’ he says. ‘But it’s been good seeing you.’
I gaze into his shiny dark eyes. I want to stare into them forever.
‘I’ve got to go,’ he says.
The sky darkens. Stars peek through the darkness, half lit, shy. A moon, full and bright, appears, and then dies.
‘No,’ I say. ‘Don’t leave me. Please. Take me with you.’
Try to be happy, Neens. You deserve that. Be happy.
‘Please,’ I say again. ‘Please don’t leave me.’
Akash steps away. ‘I’m sorry. But I really have to go.’
I lunge towards him and grasp hold of his arm. ‘Take me with you,’ I beg. ‘I want to go with you.’
He tilts his head. Smiles his sweet, crooked smile. ‘Yeah?’ he asks. ‘You sure?’
I nod, feeling suddenly calm. I let go of his arm.
‘YEAH!’ he shouts, punching his fist in the air.
Then he jumps up on to the ledge of the bridge; holds out his hand.
I take it. He grabs mine. And then I’m up, standing next to him, and we hold on to each other tight.
His fingers press against mine, and I feel light and strong. My heart is on fire. I’m half bird, half lion.
Akash roars at the darkness.
‘I used to be afraid of heights,’ I tell him, remembering the old me.
He squeezes my hand. ‘Are you scared now?’
I smile. ‘For once in my life, no.’
He grins. ‘Don’t let go of my hand, OK? We’ll do it together.’
I nod. ‘OK.’
I look out at the black water and the black sky. It’s hard to tell where the water ends and the sky begins. It looks so peaceful out there, in all that still darkness; I want to plunge into the eternal quiet. Away from all the loud thoughts in my head. Away from Fi and Josh. Away from Mum and Dad. And any new brother.
I have a brother and he’s here. Akash is here.
My heart races. ‘What will it feel like?’ I ask him.
‘What do you want it to feel like?’
I spread out my arms, picturing a bird gliding in a windless sky. ‘Flying. I want it to feel like flying.’
Akash smiles. ‘It does,’ he says, nodding. ‘It feels like flying!’
The fire in my heart spreads. It bursts across my chest. Down to my stomach.
‘I’m a bird,’ I say. ‘I’m free!’
‘Yeah!’ Akash says. ‘YEAH!’
I lift my arms, and I grow wings. Akash raises his arms too. I look at him, at his spiky black hair and his smooth brown skin and his big, brown, shining eyes. The world swirls around us like hundreds of fireworks. Just like my sky-sea painting at home.