Chasing Sunsets

40

Photography class was boring, once again.

Since everyone else in the class had handed in their projects, it meant we no longer had time to work on them in class. Which meant that instead of Chase sitting beside me, he was all the way across the classroom.

I could still see him though, he was in the front row while I was in the back. He was focused on what the teacher was saying, so it seemed.

I was anything but focused.

I was too busy replaying all the moments I had lived through in the last twenty four hours, almost all of them involving Chase. I was thinking about how he made me feel; he somehow made me feel so much, while at the same time he made me feel less.

He made me feel giddy, like a little girl with an earth shattering crush. Yet, at the same time, he made me feel less... less pain, less grief. Less helplessness, less loss. When I was around him, when his hands were on my body and his lips were on my mouth, when he was smiling at me, when he was speaking to me, I forgot that I was in pain. I forgot that I was grieving.

And, while I was thankful for that, I felt guilty.

In the weeks after I lost Isla, I thought those feelings would have been my life forever. I felt like I was destined to never escape the soul crushing knowledge that she was dead and I wasn't. She was in another world and I wasn't, I was here.

And, maybe I felt like I owed that to her. Maybe, I felt like living in that pain kept her close to me.

I rubbed my hand against my head as the bell rang, trying to make sense of my confusing thoughts.

I gathered my books, standing and making my way towards the classroom exit. I was still lost in my own mind, but as if I had an alarm in my skin, I could practically sense Chase's proximity.

"That was an interesting class," he said to me, smiling down. We began walking together, him slowing his strides down to match mine. His eyes were twinkling, the same way they had been when he saw me this morning.

"Oh, yeah," I muttered, shaking my head. Truth be told, I didn't even know what the class was about.

Chase's lips pursed as he observed me, "everything okay?"

I hesitated, wondering how much I should tell him. "I was just thinking about Isla."

Chase's eyebrows raised, just for a second, like he trying to control his reaction. I knew why. I barely spoke about Isla to him. Sure, I'd spoken to him about my grief, but I've never spoken directly about her. I barely even said her name, unless I was speaking to Bella.

"You know," Chase said slowly, "you can always talk to me about her, Indie. I know I didn't know her well, and I know I won't have the words to comfort you completely, but I can listen. It might help."

"It's hard," I told him, as we arrived at our English classroom. "It's hard to talk about her. Sometimes it feels like talking about her just opens the wound that I'm trying to heal. And I know that's not true, but that's what it feels like."

Chase nodded, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted.

"Indie," I heard Brock call my name, just seconds before he appeared at my side.

I turned to look at him, the smile that was clear across his face as he quickly ran his eyes up and down my body.

"Hey Brock," I let out, and I tried to shoot Chase a look that I hoped meant sorry, but Chase's eyes weren't on me anymore, they were focused on Brock. He wore the same expression that he wore the other day when he looked at Evan. Like he knew the boys were up to no good.