Living in Non-Existence

Ch.7 Farther Out

A sharp ring woke me up out of the revelry of the night's dream. Looking outside my opened curtains I could see the slightest peak of daylight. There should be a rooster screaming right now, I thought to myself, lunging across the bed to grab my phone.

"Hello?" I said unsurely staring at the blocked number.

"Honey! Hi!" I heard my mother's excited voice through the phone. Oh no. This was never a good sign, the last time she called me while on vacation she told me my dad was in the hospital for some sort of pneumonia. What was it this time?

"Mom, it's like the crack of dawn here, literally," I grumbled through the phone. She was smart, she knew the time difference.

"Well, honey, I just wanted to make sure you're alright. The bank called saying you're at the beach?" I could register the prodding in her voice. As much as I loathed my parents, I had to admit, they were good when it came to finding things out.

"Uh, yeah, you told me to enjoy the summer and since we haven't used the beach house-" my mother cut me off.

"Well, that's great honey, have fun! We're still on the safari but I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Have fun at the beach," the phone went dead. Typical.

My groggy green eyes looked out again. Jesus Christ, I wanted sleep but I knew it wouldn't come. That's what my parents always did to me. Call at an absurd time, hang up before five minutes were up and leave me awaiting sleep that would never come. Any possibility of dreaming shattering into millions of pieces like a glass vase.

I looked at my phone again, texting the one number that I figured would answer right away. He responded immediately.

Pulling my straight brown hair into a ponytail I stared at myself in the mirror. There was something different about me, aside from the golden tan and the sparkling eyes. An almost imperceptible happiness that glowed dimly. A half smile creeping its way up, the beach had worked.

Marc knocked on the glass door to the room. I walked out in my spandex, a loose green top and sneakers expecting to see him similarly dressed. But oh, the surprise.

He was already covered in sweat from his early morning work out. My eyes traveled from his eyes to his gleaming abs, evidently he couldn't run with a shirt on. I realized exactly why I thought he was perfect, because he was.

Marc wiggled his eyebrows, wrapping his sweaty arms around me. I would be disgusted but he actually smelled so good, I couldn't resist leaning in.

"What? You can't run with a shirt on?" I laughed skipping down the stairs with him.

"I could, it just wouldn't be as impressive to you," he smiled widely.

The morning breeze shot past me, whipping my hair backwards. My legs hurling my body forward, every step a new victory, every breath a reminder that I was clearly alive. My arms sliced the air as I kept moving forward.

Panting, Marc and I stopped at the other end of the beach, uncapping our waters. My throat burned, longing for the water that ran smoothly down my trachea. I swear, nothing could feel better in that moment.

"Come here," Marc said extending his hand. I took it reluctantly as he led us to the water's edge. "Get in," he said, clearly he thought I was insane. "Take off your shoes and get in," he said taking off his own. I leaned down untying my nike's, taking them off with my socks.

Marc was already a few feet in when I walked in. The water was beautiful, not hot, not cold and the dawning sky was even better. Marc splashed me with water as I looked to the horizon, a gasp escaping my mouth. I turned around, Marc pretended to be looking the other way, whistling innocently. I splashed water back at him. And so started the battle.

I didn't notice until he was three inches away from me that he was gradually moving forward. I looked up at him as he continued to move even closer, our bodies pressing against each other, neither of us turning away.

My brain shut down, complete black as his breath mixed with mine. I could feel the warmth from his lips on my own. Marc looked me directly in the eyes as his hands slid up, one at the back of my neck, the other brushing away loose hairs and cupping my face.

Every gasp for air was forgotten as his lips pressed gently against mine. Clearly, I didn't resist. My arms moved up his body, my fingers losing themselves in Marc's curls as his fingers gently pressed me closer.

To a day starting in such despair, I had no idea how it had become so great in less than an hour.

My mind was as lost as my fingers. I felt like my heart was bursting, if it did, I wouldn't even be sad because at least I would have felt this.

At least I would have felt the exuberant emotions that come with a boy stealing your every thought, breath, memory. I would have felt the challenge of trying to escape and falling even farther. I would have learned that a small romance can turn into a huge romance if you opened up every part of you.

I would have felt Marc. Felt his lips moving against mine as the ocean moved against our legs. I would have felt his mouth smile as I kissed him back. I would have felt the tenderness of his touch, the sincerity in his actions. I would have felt his eyelashes flutter as he pulled away before kissing me again. I would have felt him, in his most inner being, the sweetest part that showed exactly who he was.

Every touch coursed through my veins like electricity. I wished for nothing more than this, this little piece of daybreak, to last longer than the world would allow.