Chapter Two: Philippe

"Anaïs? Can you at least say something?" I asked in desperation. She looked up at me, her gorgeous dark eyes pinned on my boring, brown ones. I tried to smile, but it came out all wrong. "Please, Anaïs... Just say something..."1

"I don't know what you expect me to say..." she whispered, turning her face away. 2

"Tell me you love me!" I pleaded. "I love you, Anaïs, I honestly do... I would die for you..." Where these the wrong words? Why wasn't she looking at me? I heard her sob; I could tell she was trying to hold her sadness back. "Anaïs I love you!" She began to cry harder. I thought telling her I loved her again would make everything better, but it seemed to destroy her and I couldn't understand why.3

"Just... Just go... You can't keep doing this to me... You can't keep fucking hurting me, Philippe! Please... Just go be with Camille like you want... Go anywhere, just don't mess me around anymore... I can't deal with it..." She sniffed, but it didn't stop her tears flowing.4

I was shocked, I didn't know what to do! I loved her, didn't she realise that? "Anaïs..."5

"Just get the fuck out of my room!" 6

I didn't know what else to do, so I ran. I just shot out of her house, passing her mother on the way, who looked at me with the oddest expression. I sprinted all the way back to my house, blinking back the tears, promising myself that it had all been a bad dream. But it wasn't just a dream... When I reached my house, I ran straight into my room, and, slamming the door behind me, lay on my bed and cried. I didn't go to dinner. I could tell Mum was worried about me, but thank god she had no idea why I was so upset. 7

It must have been about ten o'clock when Mum knocked on my door. I wiped my eyes and sat up in bed, trying to look like I'd just been sleeping.
"Hey hun. How was your day? I haven't seen you all afternoon!" She was trying to sound positive, and failing. 'She must be hiding something, or getting ready to tell me something huge.' I thought. 8

"It... It was okay. Just the same, really. I've just been... Sleeping for a couple of hours." I couldn't bring myself to tell her that I had actually been sobbing for hours on end - how could I explain to her what happened at Anaïs' house? 9

Mum sighed and sat down on my bed next to me. "Philippe, I have to tell you something... It's very important, and you might get a bit upset."10

I was puzzled. What was going on? 11

"We... We're moving. To France. Not now though, next year. It's not fair to ask you and your sister to leave when there's only a term and a bit left of school. How do you feel about that?"12

God. She was using her psychiatrist tone on me... "Um..." I swallowed, trying to conceal how upset I was. This was already the worst day of my life, and now it had just gotten a million times worse. I would never see Anaïs again... "Um..." I repeated in the same, expressionless tone, trying to stop my thoughts from flicking back to Anaïs again. 13

"Philippe, love, I'm sorry... It's just that I think it's high time we moved back to France. It'll be good for you to come to know another culture. And, love," she added, "it will be excellent for your French! You could even write to Anaïs everyday - in French!" She frowned at me as tears sprang to my eyes. I knew she could tell something was up, but I didn't know how to explain it. She could never understand...
So I turned away, and buried my head in my arms. "Please go away..." I mumbled, my words barley audible. 14

"Philippe?" Mum wrapped her warm, comforting arms around me, holding me close and shushing me as my tears flowed. "Love, what's wrong? You'll miss Anaïs, won't you?" I slowly nodded, shutting my eyes to help the pain go away, but it did nothing to help my sore heart. 15

"Mum," I sniffed, "please leave me alone now... I just want some time to... think things over." Mum sighed, stroked my hair, and pulled herself away from me. Shooting me a sad smile, she left, gently closing the door behind her. I let my tears out then, thinking only of Anaïs and how much I hurt her. I had never meant to, but somehow I just did. 16

I lay motionless on my bed, huddled into a small ball, staring at the photo of her and me on her birthday. It was months ago now, but it was as vivid as if it had been yesterday. We had gone to the park to feed the ducks and watch the little kids slide down the slide for the first time, remembering how we had once felt that sense of triumph and joy. The picture was of us sitting on the bench, her head on my shoulder while we shared a strawberry milkshake. It was amazing how happy we looked - both of us grinning like silly idiots. But we were silly idiots back then. At least, I was. I shut my eyes, trying to block her out, but somehow she always found a way to seep into my thoughts. 17

Slowly, I fell into sleep, her still flowing through my thoughts. I dreamt of her that night. I dreamt that she burst through my bedroom door, declaring her love for me. We ran away to Wellington to escape our parents, who we never heard from again. I dreamt that we got married in a little church on the seaside - she had always loved the beach...