The Bright Side

Chapter 15 - Part 4

TRISTAN

Alright. Here we go. Not twenty feet away from me Carrie is standing at the pier. I take a deep breath before I approach her with my heart in my throat.

"Hey," I tap her shoulder.

"Hey!" She turns around and tries a small smile. The corners of her mouth are twitching. At least I'm not the only one who's nervous.

In four whole months, she hasn't changed a bit. I'm not sure why I expected her to, maybe because my whole life got turned upside down, but she is still the same. Small frame, lovely face, totally pulling off that skater girl look although she couldn't stand on a board to save her life.

"Thanks for coming," I say and I realize how polite, how ridiculously stiff it sounds, but I just don't know what else to say. When I texted her earlier to ask if we could meet up, I didn't really think about how it would be to see her again. I kind of imagined that it would be easy to talk to her, just like it has always been, but she seems like a relic from a long gone past to me now, all the familiarity between us crumbled to dust on the pavement.

"Sure", she bites down on her lip and averts her eyes for a moment before they refocus on me. "I like your new hairdo."

"Thanks." I run my fingers along the scar and the short hair that clings to the side of my skull. Growing your hair out when you have curls takes forever.

We fidget around in our spots, smiling politely and I have absolutely no clue how to start this conversation. I bury my hands in my jacket pockets, just to do something and inconspicuously fumble around with an old gum wrapper that has so far managed to avoid the bin.

"Want to walk down the pier?" I ask, because then at least I can pretend to take in the view, watch some seagulls, kick some stones into the water, whatever. Everything is better than standing here and getting clobbered by the awkwardness.

"Yeah, sure."

We move around pathetically, because apparently, it's not that easy to start walking in the same direction at the same time and I'm racking my brains for something to say. We walk down the esplanade and maintaining a proper space - not too close but not too distant either - takes up all of my concentration.

"I'm sorry about your Dad," she finally breaks the silence, if only for a few seconds, because after a plain "Thanks" I have to struggle hard for a conversation piece again. Come on, Tristan. There must be something harmless to say. Or something funny to ease the tension. Think!

"Eh, so... what have you been up to all summer?" Not that witty, but sufficient.

"Oh, nothing much." Carrie shrugs. "I've been to Majorca with Ashley and Marie for two weeks."

"Sounds nice."

"Yeah, it was," she doesn't elaborate further. "And you?"

"Eh." Yeah. What have I been up to? "Skating. Working. Skating. The usual."

And then the conversation dies down again. Neither of us says anything all the fricking long way down the pier. We just shoot side glances at each other and every time we meet the other's gaze there's a lot of helpless smiling. But no words. The wind picks up the further we get, lifting some strands of her shiny brown, fluffy hair into the air like gossamer and it gives her that ethereal look that's typical of her. I tear my beanie from my pocket, thinking of how cool Sky looks when he's wearing one and cover my ears that are stingingly complaining about the cold autumn breeze. When we reach the light house, we sit down on the rocks that surround it, just like when it all begun more than three years ago. When I thought that it couldn't get any better than being Carrie's boyfriend, when I had no idea that I'd ruin that.