Defy the Stars (22 page)

Flynn’s sister Siobhan keeps in touch, though these days it’s mostly just texts on birthdays and at Christmas. She’s still married to Gary. Together they run a whole network of
hair and beauty salons which make them a lot of money. Not that it’s changed Siobhan. She’s still the same, sweet-natured person even though she and Gary now live in a big house with
four kids, three dogs and a hamster. Siobhan and Flynn’s mum lives with them too. Whenever I see her we have a quiet word about Flynn. I think she’s the only person who really
understands how I feel about him.

Caitlin visits them occasionally, but spends most of her time travelling around Asia and India, living hand to mouth as an artist. I know Siobhan despairs of her, but of all the people I know,
Caitlin reminds me most of Flynn. There’s the same slightly wild look in her eye. I know their mum worries that she hasn’t settled down, but I love to hear about her adventures abroad.
It’s like she’s doing all the things Flynn never had a chance to and I love her for that.

I still see most of my old friends. Emmi lives not far away. She dropped out of uni after just one term to work as a model. It’s funny, I would have bet then that it was Emmi who would
live the wild life but actually she’s settled right down now and is happily married to a banker. I know she really wants kids and though I would never have imagined it when we were younger, I
think she’ll make a great mum so I hope that happens for her soon. Grace and James stayed together throughout university, then broke up soon after. Compared to me and Flynn, they were pretty
chilled about it. There was no big drama, they just both said that the relationship had run its course, that maybe they’d met each other too young for it to last.

I didn’t see much of Grace for a while, but we’ve been close again for a long time now. She’s a teacher, living with a really nice guy and their twin boys. We’re both
still in touch with James, who’s a solicitor now and married with a little girl. James is still the same as he always was. He’s the only other person, apart from Flynn’s mum, who
I really talk about Flynn with.

That always makes me sad, even after all this time.

And what have I done with my life? Somehow I got enough A levels to get to uni, where I studied History – just like Flynn had said he wanted to. It was good to get away to somewhere new,
where no one knew about my past. I moved back to the commune afterwards and stayed there with Dad and Gemma in Leo’s old apartment for a year. There was a new family with a baby in the flat
we once lived in and when I went up to take a look at the bedroom Flynn and I had once shared it was unrecognisable – a nursery all painted in pink with ballerina figures on the curtains. I
found my old heart bracelet on a chain under the loose floorboard and I still have it, just as I still have the leather string with the little blue ‘R’ on the end that Flynn kept around
his neck.

For a long time it helped me keep him close.

There were many years when I really gave up on other relationships. I tried for a while, dating quite a few guys at uni, but none of them matched up to Flynn. It’s funny . . . when
you’re young, adults tell you that your life hasn’t really started yet. They say that nothing that has happened so far really counts, that all options are still open, that first love is
meaningless.

It isn’t true.

I’ll never love anyone with the same intensity that I loved Flynn. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe Flynn and I would have burned out eventually. Maybe it’s all happened just
as it was supposed to.

One thing I know for sure is that loving Flynn and living with his death brought me closer to Mum and Stone than I probably would ever have been otherwise. You see, like Dad and Gemma and my
sisters they love me. And now I know that when people love you, you make it count.

My family and friends helped me through. So did writing. That’s what I do now: write stories. I’ve written lots of books but these are the only ones that tell the truth about who I
am.

But it’s my son who really turned things around for me. He was conceived by accident and born, a week earlier than expected, on the tenth anniversary of Flynn’s death. I knew that
night, that his birth was a sign that Flynn had been right to make me live and I had been right to promise I would.

From then on, I opened up, letting myself love and be loved. I made a proper commitment to my son’s father, Will, and a few months later we got married.

Will is a good man, a lot easier than Flynn ever was, that’s for sure. And I love him. Not with the same blazing passion that Flynn and I loved each other but with something calmer and
steadier, that brings me a level of contentment I used to think would never be possible.

Even so, there are still nights when I dream of Flynn and how he sacrificed his own life to save mine. And there’s a part of me that will always be his, that still lives inside our love
for each other even after all these years

I don’t regret a second of our time together. Because Flynn was right that our love was meant to be . . . every bit of it, from tip to tail.

In our heads. In our hearts.

And in the stars.

Forever.