Chloe

Chapter 4 -Collision

   Exhaustion struck me like a raging storm sucking any fool who dared to fight it in its gaping jaws. I was the day’s fool and I quickly succumbed to the violence of exhaustion. 

-Chloe’s Diary

Chapter 4

Collision

   When Chloe woke in the middle of the night again, she was prepared. She wandered her way out into the blackness that engulfed the deck and breathed deeply. Tonight a sliver of a moon was reflecting off the moving water. It was the perfect centerpiece to the numerous stars that encompassed the sky. The sheer massiveness of the ocean reminded her of the cool nights of Texas where she snuck out to the front porch to lay on her back and watch for falling stars. The difference here was the constant roar of the ocean reminding her what laid beyond the darkness.

 The fire was still glowing off to the right drawing her like a flying insect tapping the front porch light at midnight. The desire to move closer was nearly overwhelming but her fear was greater, keeping her firmly rooted on the wooden deck.  She wondered about the silhouettes and why they continued to return. Chloe strained to see any details of the individuals but the firelight distorted them. They certainly didn’t look like they were up to anything other than conversation, she thought. After a few moments she began feeling intrusive and uncomfortable, and so she went back into her room.  She grabbed one of her well read books, crawled on her soft bed, and settled into the familiar pages she had read many times before. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep again. 

Her next conscious thought was that it was too bright and she was too warm. When she couldn’t stand it anymore she flipped the covers and plopped her feet on the ground without opening her eyes. It would be painful if she did. 

Through a narrow slit of her eyelid she was able to stumble into the bathroom. After a short shower and a fresh shirt and shorts, she began to feel more human and made her way out to the living room. 

   It was early enough to where she thought Aunt, the term she began to call Claire, might be up but when she walked into the living room and then into the kitchen Aunt wasn’t there. 

That’s when she noticed a note on the fridge. Her heart pained leading a trail of hurt deep into the most painful part of her belly. Notes never said anything good. She hesitated then forced herself to walk to the refrigerator.

Chloe, I

 had to go into work early this morning, it happens like that sometimes. I will catch you later. Make yourself comfortable. I got you some cereal to eat for breakfast.

 I love you, 

Aunt Claire

  She stared at the note for a moment, her fingertips resting on the, “I love you.” She didn’t question herself when she carefully removed the note, walked into her room, and opened an empty shoebox from the previous day purchases and slid the note in it.  She placed the box on the top shelf and walked out of the room. The single determined thought was the note was hers.

   After breakfast Chloe decided to walk on the beach. Forgoing flip-flops she stepped out to the deck and practically ran down the multitude of steps into sand that was as soft as it was beautiful. She wiggled her toes delighting how the sand slipped through them easily. She then rushed to the water stepping tentatively into it. It was ice cold but she enjoyed it anyway. She felt alive and happy.

Walking aimlessly down the shore, she kept her head down. It was a habit. At first it was because she wanted to stop people from interacting with her, asking her intrusive questions, or finding a reason to be mean to her, but later she learned that walking with your eyes down could be profitable. She often found change or treasures that people had lost or forgotten. Once she found a Euro dollar that bought her a much-needed pair of gloves. Today was no exception.  But instead of something someone had lost it was a gift of nature. She bent down and scooped up a perfect white sand dollar that fit inside the palm of her hand. It was glorious and precious. She held it up to the light and admired how it glowed through the sun. Then she brought it down to study its simple yet intricate design in the center. She set it back in her palm excited to take it back to the cottage.  

Once again she walked down the beach looking for another sand dollar and thinking about the one in her hand, how perfect it was. How wonderful. How fragile.

   The downside of walking with your head down is that sometimes you walk into things. Due to self-preservation she was pretty good about avoiding injury, but today she was distracted, thinking about the sand dollar and she didn’t expect any obstruction on the shore. Therefore when she walked right into a wall, or at least it felt like one, she was more than confused.

Her perfect sand dollar slipped from her fingertips and fell to the ground but instinct forced her to look up to see what she had run into. 

Confusion quickly turned into mortification as she fumbled trying to untangle herself not from a wall but from a well-muscled bare chest. She tilted her head further back to meet a stunning beautiful angry face with piercing cerulean blue eyes. She stepped back and just stared at him loose jawed. He was truly beautiful.  With blonde wavy hair that hung in a popular style that she had seen almost every guy try to emulate but not quite pull off, an evenly proportioned face, oh and let’s not forget the gorgeous flawless body. He was stunning. The truly disturbing feature was that no matter how hard she looked she couldn’t find a single flaw. Not a scar from childhood chickenpox, not so much as a blemish. His body was well sculpted, tanned and his shorts hung low on his hips. Even his feet were perfect. She blinked wondering if she was seeing a mirage.

His perfect pouty mouth compressed into a straight line when he asked, “What the hell are you looking at?” 

Her eyes wide, she jumped back. 

Then her head went down to stare at her feet and her eyes instantly filled with tears. Damn tears, she could control every other emotion but those tears always gave her away.

Words stumbled out of her mouth, “I…I…ddddo beg your pardon, sir,” then she turned on her heel to hurry back to the cottage, humiliated. 

   He barked somewhere behind her, “Don’t you know who I am?” His voice was softer laced with a hint of confusion.

   Surprised she turned around and glanced briefly at him then quickly back down to her feet. “Should I?” she mumbled.

   In a bewildered voice he answered, “No, I guess not.”

A beat of silence, then she turned back around and ran. He let her go. 

She knew he couldn’t have been too much older than her but he was so rude. No, that wasn’t true, she really was an i***t. If she had been paying attention she wouldn’t have run into him. If she hadn’t gaped at him like some monkey in the zoo, he wouldn’t have been angry. She was tacky. She deserved to be yelled at.

   When she got back to the cottage she realized that she had left her sand dollar back at the beach. Her eyes filled up with tears again as she tried to push the loss aside. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just a sand dollar, probably broken in a million pieces. She wiped her eyes and grabbed her book, sat on the couch determined to put the event behind her.

She stayed inside for the rest of the day fearful if she left the cottage doors she would evoke more anger out of people. Or…she shuddered, she might run into him, the Adonis, and deal with his anger. She’s had enough anger directed at her she certainly didn’t need to go looking for it.