Pleasant chimes drew close conducting sound from tips of metal shaped dolphins and cylinders. Two inch grass spread to the edge of concrete, which was stamped in different directions, which to me, looked like Jeremy’s bed hair. Drip drip drip -went the worn out hose and nearby hibiscus flowers rustled and swayed and cast shadows in the night.
Hands smacked together. Cecilia finally threw the ball into Jeremy’s awaiting hands.
‘Hungry?’ she said.
The house looked warm as the smoke of the chimney blew steadily into the night. Her fingertips had turned numb at the tips and wind blew through a small section of scarf where she had carelessly wrapped it.
‘Not yet,’ Jeremy replied as another gust of wind hit Cecilia on the face.
She had three seasons worth of Game of Thrones bookmarked on her laptop. None of which she could watch until she compelled Mr. Athlete to stop. Jeremy, oblivious to her intentions, had thought he would have to leave for home after the game. And so the game continued. Cecilia shooting into a plastic hoop attached to the brick wall at the back of the house. Jeremy trying to out play her and then resorting to tickling.
If you knew Cecilia she was hardly ticklish but it produced a few quips from her all the same. The ball fell from her grasp but was forgotten as it rolled down the grass against the fence. She now faced a battle ahead that she was certain she would win. Jeremy only got a couple more squeaks from her until she turned on him. He was rendered weak onto the floor, squirming and crying for a truce that he never met as he pounced on her to hold her down. The grass felt cool against her neck and her hair was splayed out all tangled by the scuffle.
‘Are you done?’ he inquired with raised eyebrows.
She half looked at him incrediously and half concentrated on picking grass from her scarf. When she was done with the stare off, Cecilia propped up from the ground with her elbows. Purely for the reason that her hair wouldn’t be touching the grass any longer.
‘Only if Game of Thrones is a thing,’ she said feeling a bit warmer than when they had been playing hoops.
He was like a blanket over her, she wasn’t even sure if she could be bothered to get up. However he had agreed to her terms and helped her up. Not that she tried to get up and he pulled at her ruffly until she laughed and put effort into the process.
Exhausted. They sat on Cecilia’s bed and watched while Cecilia’s mum cut up strawberries that they were to share. The sweet berries smashed up in their mouths as the wars of the show raged and John Snow declared that winter was coming. But under the heater that was set on 28 degrees, they were left with a memory that was as warm as summer -and in their later years when someone mentioned those first seasons, Cecilia sometimes thought of the strawberries rather than the show and grew hungry.