Total Eclipse of the Hart

Time of my life- Days 3 and 4

Personal Story: I drew a really cool eye the other day, it's actually pretty accurate (claps wildly for my accomplishment).

Quote: "I don't mean to be awkward, it just kind of happens..."

Advice: "Quality is not an act, it is a habit." -Aristotle

Fun Fact: A single piece of spaghetti is a spaghetto. Mind. Blown.

¡Vamos a la novela!

Harto's POV!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I nod quickly at Grace, silently thanking her, and she smiles. I bolt away, desperate to not make us late. I press the elevator button, but it's stuck on Deck 7. 

It's taking forever.

"Fuck it," I mutter, running up a million stairs until I reach our floor.

I slide the key into the door lock, praising the green light when it flashes, allowing me access into the room. I sprint in, grab the notebook and my pen, and rush out, flying down the stairs and running into the long line of passengers trying to disembark from the ship. I finally get to leave after scanning my card, and I walk across the gangplank, scanning the crowd on the pier for the three of them. They were fairly easy to spot, as I see Grace perched on Mamrie's shoulders, her hands waving about wildly. I run over to them, and reach them in record time.

"Got it?" Grace says, dismounting from Mamrie.

"Yeah," I reply, "Thanks. I appreciate it."

Grace smiles at me, and we walk on. Mamrie and I lead, while Grace and Julie tag along behind us, talking about something like how clear the water is. It looks blue to me, I mean, turquoise, but still. It's water. After a few minutes, Mamrie turns to me.

"It looks like Blue Curaçao to me. I don't get the whole 'five layers to the ocean' shit they're discussing."

"Heard that!" Grace says, retorting, "It's only four layers by the way, aquamarine, cobalt, cer-"

"Ooh the bus!" I say, effectively cutting her off. Grace glares at me, and I smile, winking at her. She smiles back and rolls her eyes.

"Screw you, Hart."

We hand over a ridiculous amount of money for the bus fare, and we grab the four seats in the back, gazing out the open windows at the swaying palm trees and the island natives going about their daily routines. I'm mesmerized; the culture here is the opposite of the crazy L.A. one. Here, everyone is happy without being superficial, something hard to come by in my city. Julie rests her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her shoulder. We stay like this for the entire ride, enjoying each other's company and feeling the tropical breeze kiss our faces.

***********************************************************************************

"How was your weekend, Hannah?" She asks, as I take a breath from the story and grab my water bottle.

"Fine." I don't ask her about how her weekend was because I feel like she tortures people for fun, and I don't want to deal with the police again. 

"Where'd you go?"

"I went to the beach." I say, forcing the words out.

"Ah... well, it is prime beach time, the beaches are always jamming in June."

"I didn't go for the fun of it. I was just drawn to it."

She arches an eyebrow at me. She doesn't get me. And Lord knows I sure as hell don't understand her either. I take another sip of my water, hoping it magically transformed to vodka and I can get myelsf drunk enough to be able to leave.