Ephemeral

• Kylie Truong, Grade 8, Keilor Downs Secondary College
• Short Story
• 2016

Excellence Award in the 'Top Secret 2016' competition

Adam was a whirlwind of beauty, thrown into James’ life through searing hot coffee and stuttered apologies. Bright splashes of pink and blue among the dreary clouds he called home. It was sickeningly sweet, a boy dressed in pastel colours, chattering away aimlessly to a boy clad in monochrome, eyes void of emotion. It had taken weeks before Adam received a response to his rambling. (“Do you think I should adopt another cat? I don’t know if I should. I mean, I already have two cats but one more couldn’t hurt? What do you think, Mr I’m-too-cool-to-talk-to-the-barista?”) It was a quiet murmur, Adam had barely heard it, but he had seen the other boy’s mouth move, correcting Adam.

“James. My name is James.”

Snow gathered over the autumn leaves littered on the ground, signalling a year since James had first stepped into the coffee shop tucked away in the corner. A year since Adam seemingly appeared out of nowhere and spilled coffee on the lap of a new customer. From a stranger’s eye it didn’t look like much had changed but they didn’t know James like Adam did. Adam noticed that instead of being met with a blank stare when he babbled on, he received a slight upwards turn of James’ lip. His puns (“What currency do they use in outer space?” “Starbucks.”) were answered with an exasperated groan and a delicate giggle.

Adam had fallen in love with James. He didn’t know when, or how, but he knew that he had started to fall for the boy with the bright blue eyes and melodic laugh. James, in turn, had realised there was only one way to keep Adam safe. Safe from the tenebrous hands, safe from the whispering on the street, safe from the trail of destruction James left behind with every touch.

James always knew it wouldn’t last. He was a mess. Ghostly hands gripped his throat with every passing breath. His face contained the scars of his battle with his own consciousness. Strangers cowered away from him, pulling their children close and whispering, “Don’t stare at him, sweetie. He doesn’t belong with us.” They were right. He didn’t belong anywhere. Adam was too good for someone like him.

Blue eyes stared down at him, illuminated by the street lamp they stood under. Adam trusted James with his life. “This is the best for you, Adam. I love you.” James whispered, cradling Adam’s face gently. Adam blinked in confusion. He didn’t understand why James was crying. James never cried. “It’s alright, I love you too.” Adam whispered, trying to comfort James from whatever was wrong. James let out a quiet laugh, pressing his forehead against Adam’s. “Yes, it’ll be alright. It’s been a year.” “A year?” Adam questioned, “A year since what?” James let out a bittersweet sigh, smiling fondly at the confused boy.

“A year since I died.”