Sunday evening, early June

        As the sun began to set, filtering the room with an orange tint, I continued to apply a thick layer of cooled, moisturiser to the ball of my nose and cheekbones. I winced again at the thought of my embarrassing earlier tumble and that fact that not only had I managed to bruise up my hands; I had also caught the sun rather badly on my face. Everything felt red hot to the touch, and when I'd first walked through the porch door, Poppy had unsympathetically laughed and called me Tomato Face.

"No thanks to you." I had snapped back, too hot and clammy to hold my temper at bay. "Your bicycle decided to almost kill me on the way back - one of the tires is completely gone and this is what happened." I'd held up my cut palms, showing her the already raised and visible purple bruising down my forearms.

"Bottom shelf in the bathroom - the green bottle, Aloe Vera for your new tan." Poppy had replied, pointing towards the bathroom. I really didn't appreciate her mocking tone and sly grin.

As the afternoon wore on, I'd resigned myself to the bedroom with cold flannels arranged over my face, hoping that I would be able to sleep, to forget about the stinging pain.

Poppy had stayed away thankfully, too wrapped up in a new batch of orders to ask me how the morning had gone. I'd briefly mentioned everything got there fine along with the reason as to why the bicycle was now back in the garage, deflated and unusable.

My little white lie had left Poppy content and none the wiser.

It was only when she ducked her head into my room, late in the day to announce that there was someone outside on the porch, asking to speak to me - a blonde haired guy, with a black bicycle proped up too close to her neat lawn, did I panic.

Hurriedly I rubbed the cream into my burning skin and put on some shoes, swallowing a deep breath before emerging from the hallway.

By the steps to the porch stood Noah, busy ruffling his hair and eyeing up the front of the bungalow. He looked nervous.

"Hey." I greeted him sheepishly, aware of Poppy hovering behind me.

"Hey, sorry if I've interrupted you, or your sis-" Noah struggled to finish, his eyes quickly flicking to Poppy and back to the ground.

Giving Poppy a look, I hoped expressed fully my desire for her to back off; I shut the swing door and stepped outside closer to Noah.

"My sister, Poppy." I whispered, finishing for him. "Sorry if she wasn't that friendly, she's probably in shock that someone has come to see me."

Reaching into his pocket, Noah pulled out the paper directions I'd given him earlier. "Package has been delivered." he spoke quietly. "Should we have a code name for it or something, as I'm guessing it was your sisters and you don't want her to know the real story."

"It's okay, I don't think she suspects anything." I smiled back, keeping my voice down, in case Poppy could hear us but still acknowledging his particular sense of humour. I liked it, and I enjoyed the way laughter easily slipped from my lips without coaxing when he spoke.

Taking back the directions from Noah, my fingertips stuck to the paper, smudging the ink, and I remembered why they had felt greasy.

Wiping away at my cheeks, I looked back at my white, creamy lotion covered hand and wished for the ground to swallow me. Completely.

How he'd managed to keep a straight face, whilst I spoke with gunk all over me was admirable, but still deeply embarrassing.

"Don't worry, I think we all caught the sun today." he assured, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a red line, shades darker than the rest of his skin.

"This weather still confuses me." I chimed in, hoping he'd realise that I wasn't originally from here, I hoped he'd ask me where I'd lived before. "I can't understand why it's always so hot."

He didn't.

"I heard it's the hottest summer on record, only going to get worse apparently." Noah warned, mock shielding his eyes from the setting light.

I sighed. "Great."

There was an awkward silence that I desperately wished to fill but no words came to mind. I hadn't expected to see him so soon, especially not here at the bungalow. Not when I was looking such a state, regretting my decision to wait until night to shower. I hadn't even changed my dirt sanded clothing since our encounter. Oh the shame.

"Well, I just wanted to stop by." Noah broke in, lifting the silence. "To let you know everything is done and the lady at the shop didn't even notice a few were scratched or filled with sand."

"Thank you."

"No problem."

I was curious as to how he'd known where I lived, because I was sure I hadn't told him. My head was still knocked for six after the fall however, so it was possible.

"How did you know I lived here?" I asked slowly, shifting on my feet and avoiding his gaze.

Noah pointed at the sheet of paper. "The directions from your house to the shop are on there."

Of course.

"I hope you don't mind, thought you might want to know I made it there, in one piece" He joked.

"I appreciate it, just didn't expect to see you again." Mumbled words again drifted out my mouth, heightening the blush spread over my cheeks.

Looking past me, Noah clasped his hands behind his back and nervously laughed.

"What?"

"Looks like we have an audience." he mumbled quietly.

Over my shoulder, stood Poppy between the curtains in the front window, watching us. I silently mouthed for her to go away, shooing her with my scowling eyes.

"I'd best get going." Noah said, because Poppy was still watching us, defying my warning stare. "Scarlett?" He asked, in a way that made my tired name sound fresh, and alluring.

"Yeah?"

Noah shifted on the balls of his feet, pushing back his hair so it stuck up awkwardly "If you ever want someone to hang out with or to explore Pesmo with, call me and I'd be more than happy to come over."

I shouldn't have but his flustered, concious delivery made me giggle. "Yeah sure, that would be cool."

"Cool." he repeated, lowering his face down.

"Cool."

"Cool, so give me call when you want to go out." Noah smiled.

"I don't have your number."

Again, he nodded to the paper in my hand. "I wrote it on the back."

The thought of the digits, safe in my grasp made me giddy and when I unfolded the paper to check, I felt relieved to see his name and number scribbled below the directions.

"So you did."

"I'm gonna go now, but it was nice to see you again Scarlett." Noah started the walk back to his bicycle. "Hope you feel better soon." He called out.

"Thank you!" I replied, waving him off, still clutching tightly the paper in my hand.

When Noah had turned the corner at the bottom of the street, I walked up to the window where Poppy was still observing and tapped it hard. If only there weren't glass between my fist and her stupid, prying expression.

As expected, once back inside I was greeted by a grinning Poppy who was ready to fire out questions and had blocked my path to the hallway, and to my room.

"So... who was that then?" she inquired, wide eyed. "Do tell."

"None of your business." I sighed, walking round the coffee table in an attempt to get past her.

"It is, especially since they left tire marks on my lawn."

"Just a guy." Was all I offered back, to sate her appetite for gossip.

"Didn't seem like your type." she mused, putting out her arm to stop me bolting past. "He was handsome, in a scruffy way."

I ignored her.

"He looked older than you."

"I don't know Poppy, please just stop with the questions and let me go lie back down."

"Alright but next time please tell him to park his bike on the driveway, and not on the grass." she asserted, before finally allowing me to slip past.

I slammed the door shut behind me and fell onto the bed, to stifle my howl of annoyance at Poppy's behaviour, still clutching the piece of paper that held Noah's number.

When it came time to sleep, I placed it carefully under my pillow and hoped come morning it would still be there.

That the faintly scribbled numbers, my first glimmer of hope, would not wash away with the start of a new day.

. . .

Friday, early June

When the purple bruises on my arms had formed into light smudges, and only when the redness of my cheeks had blended into a more favourable colour, did I find the courage to contact Noah.

With a twist of fate, Poppy had early on the following Friday morning, casually mentioned she needed the bungalow vacated, so that she could prepare and host a dinner date with a new suitor of hers. Maybe it was a sign or maybe it was just well timed, but I liked to believe it was the cosmos' way of pushing me into action to dial in his scribbled digits.

Either way I sent the message, carefully following the number I had copied into the pocket diary I used to keep track of my daily activities, or recent lack there of.

I had kept it since my first day of the disastrous internship, when I would enter promising engagements - dinners, films to see, museum exhibitions to visit.

Now, for the past month, each day was indistinguishable from the last:

Slept

Slept

Slept

Cleaned the kitchen/Slept

Slept

Slept

Argued with Poppy

Why I kept it as a sad reminder of my loss of living, I wasn't always sure but I often wanted to believe it to be, that I hadn't quite given up the hope that something better would happen, something worth noting. Eventually.

Noah's number had been etched into the void of Sunday, a space usually left blank because not even Sleeping was worth remembering on the quietest day of the week.

For the first time, I was glad Poppy had told me to take a hike, banishing me from our forced, shared home. Now I had a valid excuse to take him up on the offer to meet again.

I asked him:

Would you like to meet up this evening, maybe grab a bite to eat? - Scarlett

It was the best I could do, without spending all day procrastinating over how laid back I should sound. I wanted to peak his interest but not scare him away with too much eagerness. I really didn't want him to know, I needed him as a friend more than I needed the air to breathe.

He wasn't to know I was living a lonely existence.

Which is why his reply, when it flashed up on my phones glass screen left me with a confident and joyful feeling and the relief that my short message had been received positively.

The five-word reply carried me though the morning on a wave of anticipation that couldn't be washed away no matter how hard anyone tried. Not even Poppy with her orders for me to do the dishes or dust the living room.

When she teased me for wearing a dress, a simple strap design, I didn't even care. Her scoffing at my decision to wear trainers with it, slid from me like water off a ducks back.

Like a mantra, I repeated his response over in my mind until the time came for me to leave the bungalow and Poppy behind.

Because Noah had replied with words that I needed to hear, since the moment I'd arrived to my new home.

He replied:

Absolutely. Let the adventure begin...

. . .