Who You Are

four | falling quickly

The plane touches down in California six hours later, and the whole time I stared out the window, listening to Greta as she mumbles on about life. She tells me stories about my dad when he was little. About the uncle that's in Afghanistan, and the Grandpa that I would have loved. She lists names of cousins and great aunts and uncles. She tells me about the house, and the beach and all the things I can do now.

She doesn't bother to ask if I'm listening. She knows that I am. She doesn't ask me any questions either, she just talks.

When we exit the plane, and make our way through the gate and into the giant dome of the airport I bump into several people as they rush through. I'm jostled, and I'm wincing from the pain that each body causes as it connects with mine. My mind starts to become cloudy, and my pulse is starting to race. Again. 

My eyes dart quickly around the room, roaming from face to face. I take in the surroundings and I'm wondering how the hell I'm going to survive this chaos. I march alongside Greta as she wheels her carry on towards the luggage wrack, and I'm fidgeting as we wait. Greta doesn't even notice. She just continues to yammer on about unimportant things and watching the conveyor belt circle. I try to focus on it as well. I try to zero in my mind and listen to the steady rhythm that the belt hums as it twirls.

I'm shook out of my mental fixation. Literally shot from my position as someone barrels into me. I shut my eyes as I prepare myself for a fall. A fall that doesn't come like I thought it would because a strong set of arms circle around me before I even timber. I gasp at the electric currents that vibrate across my arms at the touch and I open my eyes to meet a set of pale grey ones. We stare for what feels like hours, but could only be seconds.

I don't mutter a word, and I don't flinch from his touch. I just stare. I stare at his disheveled brown hair, dark stubble across his chin and cheeks and his crooked nose. The last thing that I notice, is his full plump lips and I'm instantly enraptured.

"You fell for me pretty quickly," he says, with a grin. His voice is like a Tennessee whiskey. Deep, rich but velvety smooth. I still don't mutter a single word. I just continue to stare at him. "I'm sorry I ran into you." His arms stay locked around me, my left resting against the bulge of his right bicep, and the caste right one hanging to the side. I don't even notice the pain as he holds me. I don't even remember my own name. I'm completely breathless as he looks at me. Roaming his eyes over my face as I had done just seconds before. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he notices the bruise that sits across my cheek and into my eye. And I'm snapped out of my trance as one of his hands releases its hold to run across the area.

I clear my throat and detangle myself from his hold. I look at my feet as he stuffs the hands that were just cradling me into his pocket. We sit in an awkward silence, before Greta decides to make her appearance.

"Kade, darling," she greets, cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"

He smiles warmly. "Hi Greta. We just landed from Bali," he looks to me for a brief instance, smile still in place.

"Oh that's right, Nicole told me you guys were going. Did you guys have fun?"

"We sure did, though I'm glad to be home."

"I can imagine," she replies. She finally looks to me, and notices that I won't make eye contact with either of them. My body still on fire from his touch. "This is my granddaughter Willow, she's going to be living with me."

He looks at me again, eyes shining. We make brief eye contact, before I'm blushing from the stare. "It's really nice to meet you, Willow."

"This is Kade Brinson. He lives just down the road from us, you guys will be in the same grade," Greta says. "You'll have to be her designated tour guide. I think you guys will be great friends."

"I'd be happy too."

"Great! We've got a lot ahead of us, so we'll leave you to it." she says. "Tell Tom and Nicole I said hello, and we'll have to get together sometime soon."

"Will do," Kade replies. He looks at me again, a small smile still gracing his beautiful face. "I'll see you around soon Willow."

And with a wink and a turn he leaves our presence.

Greta sighs beside me. "They didn't make them like that when I was young." she mutters under her breath. I raise my eyebrows and she smiles at me with a hint of embarrassment before she turns in the opposite direction. I follow after her, voice caught in my throat. I rub my good hand across my arm and feel the raise of goosebumps. I'm still trying to comprehend the feeling he gave me. I can still feel his hands on me, and it's not in a bad way.

We exit through the sliding doors and I'm hit with the piercing rays of sunshine. It's hot. It's so hot that not even seconds later, sweat starts to coat my skin. I put my hand up to my forehead so I can see two feet in front of me. Greta flags a cab and climbs in the back seat, with me following pursuit. The drive takes a while, with the packed streets of cars and the thousands of people that live in San Francisco. The view from the window is intimidating. I've never seen so much traffic in my life, and I'm really overwhelmed. 

"It's a bit of a drive to Santa Cruz, so get comfortable," Greta says from beside me, taking a book out of her purse. I watch her for a moment before returning my gaze to the window, and after leaning my head against the warm glass and watching the colors change around me as we speed across the open highway, I fall asleep. Dreaming of a set of grey eyes.

* * * * *

Greta shakes me awake a short while later. And I glance at the clock in the front seat at to see the time. 4:19 pm. We pull into the lot of a giant house. A mansion. It's not really a mansion, but to me it is. I follow behind her as she exits the cab, tossing a bill into the front seat. With a thank you, a wave, and a have a nice day the cab driver pulls from the curb and fades into the distance. I steal my glance to the house in front of me.

I've never seen something so magnificent.

The house sits in the middle of the plot. Two stories erect with giant white pillars, and two balconies that sit atop them. There's a lookout at the top, with windows on all sides and the pale grey color contrasts beautifully with the white trim, dark windows and the beat of the sun. I'm in awe of something so materialistic. My sights have never before been set on something as grand as this. The only thing I've ever known were square boxes, trailer parks, and dingy apartments.

Greta stands beside me, looking at it in the same manner as I am. "I never get tired of this place."

"It's beautiful," I reply softly.

"Your Grandpop build it forty years ago," she said. "We were fresh out of college and expecting your dad, when we decided it was time for something of our own. And I've always had a dream of living on the sea."

I follow her hand as she motions to the water that sits behind the house. I didn't notice it in the mental picture I took of the building before it. There's a cobblestone walk way that winds down beside the house. Palm trees decorate the edge as it goes. I walk forward a ways to see the sun reflecting off the surf, and I inhale the scent of the salt filled air. My cheeks lift as a smile graces my features and I continue the walk to the edge of the property line.

We sit atop a crest, with a wooden staircase that leads to the sandy beach. I don't take those stairs, not yet. I just close my eyes and feel the beat of the sun sit across my cheeks and listen to the crash of the waves as they high five the shore.

This is paradise.

I'm not sure how long I sit here and marvel in the feel of this new world. I stand until the sun starts to fade across the open expanse of the ocean, and the sky turns a burnt orange. My mind is shut off and the world doesn't turn at an ungodly rate anymore. I exist in the moment and feel a giant weight lifted from my shoulders. The skin on my face feels hot, and sweat has accumulated across my brow. Even the arm underneath my cast is itching from the dampened skin.

I walk back the way I came and enter the house through the front door. Stopping to admire everything around me. The door opens into a wide entry way. Dark hardwood floors flow into the adjoining rooms and a large staircase veers up on the side. There's a kitchen down a ways and a whole wall with floor to ceiling windows. The view captures my attention immediately, and I find myself walking to it. The beach I just watched sits below a massive deck. And a scene so utterly enticing and magnificent greets me beyond it. The water sparkles in the evening glow and I can faintly make out the all encompassing mass of sail boats. All I want in that moment is to sit here forever and never take my eyes off it.

"Beautiful isn't it?" she whispers beside me again.

And there we stand, in utter silence for more than a minute, just taking in the view. I sit here and think that this all must be a dream, because there is no way that I would ever get this in reality. My stars will never align enough for it to be real. "Let's go see your room and I'll give you some time to unwind and readjust."

The walk up the stairs takes longer than I expected, mostly because I admire the walls that surround them. Pictures upon pictures follow you as you go. Of Greta, and a man I assume to be my "grand-pop". And of two little boys, who grows into teenagers, then grows into adults. I look at one face in every single one. Take in his dark hair, and vibrant blue eyes that match my own exactly. I trace his face with my finger, tears welling in the back of my head as they try to force their way out.

I continue walking, breathing deeply as I go. Trying to calm my erratic emotions. But out of the corner of my eye, I find one picture that makes my heart drop and my breathing kick into overdrive. It's of my mom. A young version of my mom, and that same teenage boy standing next to her. My dad. This is my mom and my dad. These are the two people that made me. I stare, eyes never blinking. I look as they laugh at the camera. I look at his arm around her shoulders, standing a whole foot taller than her. And I see the absolute love in his eyes, and in hers as well.

I let out a small sob. Never taking my eyes off of this simple photo.

"They were only seventeen when this picture was taken. Not too long before she left," Greta says. I finally turn to look at her, standing in the doorway of a bedroom. My bedroom. "He loved her fiercely, and Lord did she love him just as much. He was never the same after she left."

I take a moment to catch my breath. "Why did she leave?" I finally ask.

Greta looks at me for a moment, sad eyes glazing over my face. "That is something only she can answer."

"She's dead. How can she answer that?" I say, anger evident behind my tone. I widen my eyes before apologizing profusely. I was told to never raise my voice, never backtalk and never show emotion. If I did, bad things would happen. I bow my head in a submissive stance, only for Greta to scoff and tell me that there is no reason to apologize.

"I wish I had all the answers. Let's get you settled in, then I'll make us some dinner and we can sit on the deck and watch the sun go down." I set my things on the enormous four poster bed, then run my fingers over the desk that sits an incredibly nice computer. I skitter into the closet, that has to be bigger than all twelve of my houses out together, and take a peak into the bathroom that nestles into the crook of the room. A shower, a vanity and a toilet all take up the space. One wall houses an array of floor to ceiling windows, just like the ones below in the kitchen. The view from here is just as spectacular as the other.

I shuffle my feet along as I look around some more, brushing along every smooth surface. This is my own space. A place where I can breathe. A place equipped with so much light that not an ounce of darkness should touch it. But even in the blinding light, it always has a way of creeping in.

I slip out of my shoes, setting them side by side next to the door, and make my way into the bathroom. Igniting the spray of the over sized shower, I remove my clothes and cry a thousand tears down the drain. I'm scared. No, I'm terrified. In one simple night, my whole world was flipped completely on its axis. I'm completely lost in what I'm doing. In what's going to happen. I'm scare of the unknown, I'm scared of meeting him. I'm scared of spiraling. And if the lines that run across my wrists are anything to go by, I know it wont be long before the dam breaks and I'm swept away into a chaos I don't think I'll ever return from. But still, that set of grey eyes linger in the forefront of my mind and it helps me breathe a little easier.