Hope Begins to Fade

Daybreak

I stretched out and winced at the crick in my neck. My back ached, my hips ached, my entire body ached and I was cold. I opened my eyes and blinked in the dawn light. Where the hell was I? I closed my eyes and pressed the heels of my hand to them before opening them again in the hope of a different view. Nope. I was still looking at the open panoramic roof. I lifted my head and yep, there it was, the steering wheel. I turned my head and saw Matt fast asleep and snoring softly in the seat next to me. No wonder I ached all over, we'd slept in Matt's car. The leather upholstery was comfortable but not that comfortable. I was covered with what looked to be a picnic blanket and Matt had a couple of beach towels draped over him.

In sleep Matt looked peaceful and more like the guy I remembered from Skype chatting with him alongside Val. Don't get me wrong he still looked the only thing differentiating him from a homeless person was the fact that his shoes were still mercifully free of tape. It wasn't much of a difference. He looked comfortable, more comfortable than I'd felt so it made me wonder how much he was actually sleeping at night. His lashes were dark against his cheeks and without his ever present grief weighing down on him he looked ridiculously young. Even with the kind of beard that was more Sasquatch than lumbersexual. Tucked up under a Sponge Bob beach towel he should have looked ridiculous instead he looked like....something strictly off limits. His situation and the ever present grief snapping at my own heels meant that my admiration for him needed to be confined to strict parameters. He was gorgeous, heck I could deny it to the world but I couldn't kid myself considering his starring role in my secret Pinterest life, but he was to be admired from afar. He was to be admired like a great work of art, touching him would set off more alarm bells than touching the Mona Lisa.

The sky was gradually growing lighter and the ocean visible out the windscreen was changing from a cold pre-dawn grey to a deep green. I could see board riders paddling out through the surf. It reminded me of long gone times in my past when I'd sat huddled under a blanket, cup of tea in hand, and watched someone I loved pursue one of his grand passions in life. The difference between then and now was that I was huddled in the car and the sun that should have been rising over the water was coming up behind me. Plus I would have killed for a cup of tea. Matt's car was pretty fancy but it wasn't in-car-coffee-and-tea-facilities fancy. That would just be stupid anyway, most people just made do with a Thermos. Most importantly none of those out in the water meant a damn thing to me. In that moment my heart ached so hard for Tim I felt choked by it.

I sat up and flipped down the sun visor to check myself out in the mirror. Surprise, surprise I looked like I'd spent the night in a family friendly BMW SUV. I snapped a hair band off my wrist and twisted my hair up on my head, the best option. I had a lot of hair and no amount of finger combing was going to tame the bird's nest that had developed on my head overnight.

I was contemplating rifling through the centre console or the glove box in search of a mint or some gum when a knock on the window startled me. I glanced across at Matt who grunted in his sleep but otherwise didn't stir. Peering in at me through the window was a guy with a mop of curly brown hair wearing a wetsuit. I turned the key to get the heat going and let me wind down the window a little.

"Hey," he grinned at me, "You okay in there?"

"I'm fine," I croaked my voice early morning rusty.

"Okay, I was just checking. It's not exactly the best weather to be camping out in your car you know." He gave me a friendly smile.

"Oh well...you know...we weren't..." Why the heck was I explaining myself to this stranger? God did he think that we'd been parking instead of just parking? I'd never even done that as a teenager. My sister was the one who'd made strategic use of scarves in the middle of the Queensland summer. She'd also worn long sleeved shirts and jeans more often than necessary to hide the scratches from the Bougainvillea outside her bedroom window.