Chasing Sunsets

29

There were a few reasons that I was embarrassed to know that Chase had heard my phone call this morning.

The first reason was the obvious. I knew what it sounded like, and the fact that I arrived to school with Brock, wearing his hoodie only confirmed it.

The second took a little longer to realize the root of, but finally I tore through my distant memories to find it. Not only was it before the day at the beach happened, but I was drunk when it happened too. Which meant, the moment was practically buried in metaphoric sand.

It was the night I called Chase and invited him to my house, after Brock's birthday party. I can remember looking at the picture that Brock had posted of us in annoyance, and telling Chase that I would never be with Brock.

So, not only did I look like a slut, I looked like a liar.

The third reason, well, it was more personal. Frankly, I didn't want Chase to think bad of me. I didn't want him to think I was either of those things.

Which is why my foot was tapping against the linoleum floor of my photography class. My knee was bouncing in place, because I wasn't sure what to say to Chase when the teacher inevitably gave us time to work on our project. Did I ignore the subject completely? Would he say something? Knowing Chase, he wouldn't. He'd pretend like it never happened. But, I didn't want him to think it happened in the first place.

But then, I realized it didn't really matter, in the end. Chase probably didn't even care. Why would he?

As if on cue, the class began to rearrange, which was the usual for photography classes lately. Though, Mrs. Wilson reminded the class that this was the final day to work on our project. Even though Chase and I had an extension, it meant we still needed to do a lot of work before we handed it in.

"Hey Indie," Chase said softly, as he sat beside me. Though, I noticed he didn't look at me the way he usually looked at me. It was subtle, he wasn't glaring at me or staring me down. It was just different, and I couldn't explain it.

"Hi," I replied, the awkwardness of my self-made situation coursing through me. I was about to open my mouth, to tell him something. The problem is, I didn't even know what I was about to say.

"You know," Chase said, interrupting my poorly thought out plan to explain myself, as he pulled out his binder. "I miss when you would call me Mr. Sutton."

I didn't expect those words, and I couldn't help but smile at them. Though, like anything that happened before that day at the beach, the memories of me calling him that stung me.

It's one of those facts that I'm struggling to accept. Even though certain things that happened before the accident didn't have anything to do directly with Isla, they still hurt. They hurt because they were mere weeks, or days, before the worst day of my life. The day I never saw coming. Maybe, if I'd known what lay before us, I would have done things differently. I would have lived differently. Maybe.

"I didn't think you actually liked that," I finally answered, trying my best to keep the fallen memories off my face.

"I like everything you say, Indie," Chase let out, and it sounded so casual.

It made me freeze, my chest filling up with elation like there was a helium balloon inside of it.

"But, I don't know why you called me that," Chase continued, he obviously didn't realize the effect his words had on me.

I titled my head as I tried to remember, but I couldn't. I don't think I ever had a specific reason. I was just lighter then. I was a lighter person. If I was a dreary grey now, I was a warm orange then. I was different, drastically changed by unplanned events.