Come What May

12. the sea and me

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE SEA AND ME

—

• tuesday, march 30th •

The words 'meet me at 3795 Mission Boulevard' are the only words that are etched into my brain as I tug my sweatpants on, the four a.m. exhaustion washing over me as I do so, so strong that I have to take a moment to steady myself to prevent myself from falling over.

"Oh my God," I mutter to myself, fumbling around in the dark as I hunt for the hoodie that I was wearing just yesterday. My fingers curl around it only after two minutes of searching, but I hastily pull it on and run my fingers through my hair.

It's four a.m., Storm. Four in the morning.

Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I yawn, grabbing the keys to the house and the keys to Mom's car, having to pause a few times just to make sure that I haven't got the wrong keys, or worse, haven't got any keys in my hand at all.

Once I'm fairly certain that those are keys in my hand, and not a random keychain, I shove them into my pocket, trying my hardest not to let the early morning nausea take over my body, because if it does, I don't think today will be very pleasant at all.

I still don't know what Storm wants. They just sent that text to me with absolutely zero context, and replied with a thumbs up when I sent back a small, ok?? and nothing else because I didn't know what to say.

It's a miracle that I even managed to wake up when they sent the text, but last night had been a fitful sleep plagued with nightmares and nausea, so when I received a text asking me to drop everything and meet them near the beach, I had to agree.

"Okay, okay," I mumble to myself again, fairly positive that I look and sound like I've lost my mind. "Keys, pants, what else? God, I'm tired." Yawning again, I grab the tin of cookies from the table, because knowing Storm (as well as I can know them), they'd want some cookies. "Okay, okay. Don't crash the car. Don't crash the car. Don't crash the car."

And that's what I repeat to myself when I step into the car, when I pop a window open so that the cool breeze stops me from falling asleep at the wheel, when I drive all the way to 3795 Mission Boulevard, and even when I park the car at the designated car parks.

There aren't many people around, I realise. Well, there aren't any people around, except Storm, who's seated smack on the cement of the boulevard, their eyes reading something on their phone, so engrossed in it that they don't even notice I'm here.

I open my mouth to say, "Hey", but instead, a yawn escapes it, my third one of the day that's barely started.

That does it to startle Storm though, and they glance up from their phone, letting a small smile spread across their face as they take in my attire.

"Jesus fuck, you look tired," they mutter softly, but their words are louder than I expect since we're the only two here. Shaking their head, they push themself off the ground and make their way over towards me. "Dude. Did you even sleep last night?"

"It's literally four a.m., Storm. I got three hours of sleep, and now, it's four in the morning," I hiss, harshly rubbing my eyes as if that'll help get rid of the sleep that lines them. "I haven't woken up this early since my high school days of track."

"Not a morning person, I see," Storm muses like the annoyance that they are, laughing quietly. "You could've just said no, you know? Actually, I wish you had said no. Maybe then, you would've gotten some more sleep. I could've come by myself."