Chapter one-hundred-and-eighteen

I still remember my primary school playground.

There was a lot of noise.

There were games being played, soccer matches, gossip groups, library dwellers.

The sun painted the grass a magnificent golden, tracing magical-looking patterns all across the playground, and I remember thinking how perfect everything was.

There were a few minutes before we'd have to go to the library, where we'd find out who we'd be spending the rest of the year with. I don't think I spoke aloud how nervous I really was. The last year of primary school mattered to me more than anything; it was the last chance to make primary school memories.

From across the playground, Harry and I made our first exchange. I loved his smile straight away.

When I turn around, I realise I still do.

He's grinning ear to ear, but he doesn't say anything else before extending a hand to me.

"Could you trust me, Tasmin? I need to show you something," he asks softly. He sounds so sincere, like a little boy wishing to show their latest crayon drawing.

I take his hand and he leads me across the park. There's a path that winds between the trees and a thick hedge. I've been down this path, but not far. To me, it looked like a dead-end. But it was always the best hiding spot for hide-and-seek.

As we wander at a bit of a hurried pace, Harry comments: "You'd make a good spy. You know, for deciphering my note."

"It wasn't that hard," I say, sounding a little harsh. I see him glance at me out of the corner of my eye, and my heart drops when his grip on my hand loosens. "Ally said the same thing," I add.

He scoffs a little. "She would."

We keep going in silence.

"Do you hate her?" I can't help but ask. When he doesn't answer, I say: "You shouldn't. She was as much a victim as you."

He stops suddenly, and I have to take a few steps back. He's staring at the ground, but then he says, "Do you hate me?"

"I–"

"You should," he butts in. "I didn't expect you to come, honestly."

Now I'm a little angry. I stop myself though, because him being skeptical of my trust for him is fair.

"Harry." He looks up and then he's staring into my eyes, and I have all my attention on those emerald eyes. I feel like they're brighter here, surrounded by more green, though there's not much light. My voice falters and then I say: "What did you want to show me?"

And so he continues down the path, which gradually narrows and becomes more moss-covered. I catch up to him and oh so casually thread my fingers through his. I feel his eyes on me, and I feel the warmth that springs up beneath my cheeks, but then he's facing the path, and I'm smiling.

Finally, we reach… a dead-end. The hedge and the trees come together, and we're standing on pure grass now. I was right; it is a dead-end, but Harry brought me here for a… reason.

I let go of his hand.

"Harry, why'd you bring me here?" I demand.

He takes a step back from me, opening his palms. "Tasmin, I'm not going to hur–"

"How can I be sure of that?!"

"Please," he says, and I watch his eyes light up again. When I don't move, he puts his hands down. "Okay. Watch, alright?"

Right in the corner where the bush meets the hedge, he pulls back a branch and reveals an even greener pathway. I didn't know grass could be so healthy and vibrant, and I didn't know nature was capable of creating such a thing.

He's looking at me, and I wipe the astonishment off my face.

He recites: "It's the green pathway leading to… our haven."

I'm a little taken-aback. Still. But I watch him grin and then bend to head straight through the tunnel. He doesn't stop and wait for me.

He's leaving it completely up to me, whether I follow him or not. And my heart pounds in my chest, and I'm overcome by an avalanche of what-ifs and waves of emotions that I don't understand.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them I don't see Harry's back anymore. I pull back the branch and I have to bend to go down the tunnel made of branches and leaves.

I emerge and there's warmth on my face. I have to squint to look up, because the canopy of me has a skylight where the sun beams down. But around the skylight, the canopy is a whole world of light greens and glimpses of the sky above, and within the branches and bunches there are birds, flowers, insects.

Places like this exist only in dreams, and never in this much detail.

I let the branch seal the tunnel behind me before I stand up and step slowly through this room made by nature. Eucalyptus trees make thick walls all around, and old oaks are the scaffolds that make this place so solid. Then the branches connect them, the vines entwine and pull this whole place together. I think I see a million more tunnels and I wonder how many have been explored.

I can't hear people anymore. There's only birds and cicadas and the occasional murmuring from the wind.

Near the centre of this space, there's a single tree, still small, but the trunk is wide enough to lean on it. When I'm underneath it, I realise that there are so, so many little lanterns strung up. Each one has a flickering golden light, and my eyes strain to see what it'll look like here at night.

Suddenly, the lights inside them fade. Harry's behind me with a little remote. I think I seem a little surprised because he says: "Oh, I was gonna save the battery for later."