Tides

a whole new world

the first miss call was from my mom and a text saying hope you landed safetly, see you in 3 months! xox. Next 5 missed calls and text messages where all from Bree saying dude you know Dylan Rock? he tots just asked me out!, bitch why arent you answering? just because you went away dosent mean you can ignore me this whole time! . text message after text message, looking at my phone i had a tiny bit of singal and everything that i got from the outside world finally caught up with me. my phone started to vibrate again and Bree's photo popped up. "hello?" "son of a bitch, didn't think you would answer" i could almost smell the alcholo on her breath, hangover breath. "sorry i was in a no singal range i didnt't get anything tell i came into town" "sucks, how long are you there? three months?" "yeah" "damn it hasent even been one, but anyways, have you done the dirty tango with anyone? i know you said the lake was in a dry, religious town but i bet someone there wants to see you naked" bree laughs and i almost shiver, from thinking of Austin but when i notice Sam in the distance he walks with a larger man, with a wide grin on his face. without thinking "not yet" Bree almost explodes over the phone "what do you mean not yet! did you find someone?! bitch don't leave me hanging!" "i have to go" i say as soon as Sam and what looks like his boss come closer. "Don't you hang up on me-" when I do hang up on her if feel better defying her, Bree was always the confident one, always the one who got the guy. I may not have a lot of confidence, I might be extremely clumsy but I know how to be me.

"Becca this is my boss, Mr. Welsh. Mr. Welsh Becca" Mr. Welsh was a large man pro ably in his late forties, his black hair was blushy, he had light Carmel skin and he had a slight beard growing. He seemed laid back and fun especially how he wore a regular shirt and jeans and patted Sam on the back like he was his own son, for all I knew he probably considered him it. "Please, call me Mike" mike held out his hand and I grabbed it and felt a slight squeeze crush my fingers. "Please to meet you mike" "Sam here has told me a lot about you, your much more beautiful than he says" the red of Sam's cheeks were reder than a tomato. his lips sat in a straight line, and made a nervous laugh in the back of his throat. all I did was smile, did he really talk to him about that? "Why Mr.Cook, you start and I'll make sure Becca has something to do, we won't be out here long a storm is coming and I don't want to risk you guys working in the rain" Sam nods to his boss then glances at me and gives me the tiniest smile.

Mr. Welsh has appearntly been in business since he was fourteen and started to work for his dad and when his dad retired he took over. "I would pass down to my son, like a tradition, but I have two girls" he shows me a picture on his desk, it had two girls one looking around my age and the other near Elsa's. Looking up from the picture I saw a lot of them in Mr. Welsh-Mike-. "There beautiful" I say and he nods "thank you, there into animals. my eldest Courtney is going to study to become a vet" the way he talks about her is like he couldn't be more proud, whenever my parents would go to parties with my parents which meant dressing up in pinchy shoes my mother loved. I never heard anyone asked how I was it when they did, my father would give a strong good. like that's all I was going to be good. I know I didn't know what I wanted to be but I was sure as hell better than good.

I set the photo back on his desk, smiling. "do you have any idea what you want to do when you go to college?" the question catches me in my throat, all my life I thought of it, I played piano (not much anymore), I loved English, I loved painting, but I didn't think my technique was good enough to be in a museum, so I gave up. my room used to be filled with little doodles, but when I got to high school and my Russian art teacher said she wouldn't spit at my works direction if she had too, that day I cried and threw away all my art, and swore it off. ever once in awhile I will doodle in the side of my notebook, but I never bought another art book after that. I told Mike that I liked to draw, but I haven't in awhile. "i don't know what I want to be" I confess, he seemed so easy to confess too. "well Becca that's all about growing up, we discover what where good at and what where not" his voice was soft and caring like a father talking to a baby when it learns to walk, between his words I know he saying you'll know eventually. "would you mind drawing me something?" The thought of drawing on command, was weird. I haven't drawn for anyone since before art class, I've always been scared of being criticized, even since then I didn't tell many people that I could draw. it was a hidden talent people forgot over time but I never did. he hands me a pencil and paper, he offered me the desk directly opposite of him and I sat. he didn't watch me as I drew, part of me just wanted draw stick figures and be done with it but my fourteen old self exploded inside me, I kept in so many things, everything was exploding out of these days. i looked causally on the picture of his eldest daughter, Mike didn't see me tracing with my eyes the lines of her face and the roundness of her eyes. it didn't look a lot like her though, it more looked like a girl someone might know. the sketch was quick but it still showed skill. it was a small drawing of a girl surrounded by butterflies and the sun, the butterflies surrounded her head, as like a crown. Mikes eyes narrowed together, before he looked at me "you have a gift Becca, why aren't you perusing it?"