Chapter 25: There's Nothing For Us To Talk About

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The hot sand of the beach burns the underside of my legs, but I don’t really care. I shift my position and pull my legs up to my chest, resting my head on top of them. I look up at the sky lethargically. The sun has gone to sleep; the moon has come out to play. Not literally of course, but that’s always the way I think of it. I don’t know what time it is, but judging from how empty the beach is and the color of the sky I assume it must be about seven, maybe eight thirty.

I’ve been here sitting in this exact spot on this beach for about two hours, maybe three. When I broke up with Ryder I ran out of the house and just walked around the town pretty much. Then after about two hours of walking around aimlessly I found myself at this beach. I didn’t let myself cry until I got here. I don’t know where my phone is, I don’t care. I probably left it up there in the room Ryder and I were sharing. I wasn’t wrong for breaking up with him, was I? I mean he lied to me. And he kissed Mollie at the party. He didn’t know that when we left the party a week ago I already knew everything that he told me. He didn’t know because Mollie had already told me. I asked her and she flat out told me. No hesitation, no questions. She straight up told me exactly what Ryder told me. Well not the parts about Scarlett because I’m assuming she didn’t know those things.

So I waited. I waited a whole week, just to see if Ryder would tell me what I already knew. And yeah, he did but he didn’t want to. And I don’t think if he was given the opportunity he would have. My stomach growls for the second time since I’ve been out here. I’m starving. Strangely though, I don’t want to eat. I’m tired, I’m sleepy, and I’m sick of being here in Australia. I wanna go home. And I don’t mean to Vernon. I mean to Dallas. Phil and my mom won’t be back for a while still, but I want to go home. I know I can’t stay out here on this beach forever, and when we go back to California it’s gonna be so awkward with Ryder everywhere I turn.

I probably look horrible. Like a wet raccoon or something with my mascara running down my face. Well it’s not running anymore, that’s because I’m not crying anymore. Why am I not crying anymore? Because I just cried for two hours straight, there are no more tears left in my body. So I’m just sitting here, no intention of getting up. Ever. No I’m not depressed, I’m just sad. I’m pretty sure I’m entitled to be sad.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my mouth growing dry. I lick my lips and sniffle. I look around the beach and the last two people besides myself are now leaving. Assuming from the way they’re walking together, hands intertwined, I assume they’re a couple. A happy couple. They look young. Well not young, but younger than me. They appear to be about sixteen. They get into a car, and drive off, away from the beach.

Finally, all alone. I stand up, my body stiff from sitting down for so long. I walk across the sandy terrain of the beach and stand along the shore line. I stare out at the dark blue water. A small gust of wind engulfs me, and I wrap my arms around me, trying to stay warm. I’m not exactly wearing the most appropriate clothing for outdoors though. My head is pounding, a headache searing through my skull.

        “Hey.” A familiar voice says, suddenly beside me.

I turn my head, and look at the person. What is he doing here? I don’t even know him that well. “Hi Cash.”

        “You look terrible.”

I nod, not in the mood to defend myself. “I know.”

        “Everyone at the house is worried about you.”

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