Shells

two

Natalie pulls the car into a driveway that leads to a beautiful house hidden behind a tall polished stone wall.

"Wow, Natalie, it's beautiful." I peer up at the house.

"Thank you, it's my baby." She replies as she opens her car door. I follow suit and step out of the car. The house really is breathtakingly beautiful. It's a major change of pace from my family's Manhattan home. Lots of plants, warm wood, glass, and stone. I retrieve my suitcase from the trunk of my car and follow Natalie up to the front door.

"Here, I'll take you up to your room. I want you to feel like this is your home. There is a tablet on the wall in the kitchen and you can add things to the shopping list for my assistant Tiff to pick up. Seriously, anything you need. Any food in the house is yours and nowhere is off limits. I had Tiff put together a little list of the best places to go in Huntington for, like, literally everything. It's in a little book on the kitchen island. There are keys to the cars inside the cabinet by the garage. That's down the hallway to the left of the kitchen. Feel free to take any, just try not to crash? You have your license, right? I'm sure your parents just always hired you drivers, but driving is way better here. There's also a bike. Kind of ancient, it's from college." Natalie rambles, barely taking breaths between sentences as we climb the stairs and then turn a corner at the end of the hallway.

"Here's your room, Tiff helped me pick out bedding that we thought a teenager would like. Apparently you guys like plain stuff now? I would've gone for patterns and colors when I was your age. You can get new stuff if you want, just tell Tiff and she'll get it. I considered putting you on the first floor, but it has a door to outside in it and I decided I wanted you to have to work to sneak out at least a little bit. Not that anyone's gonna stop you. Actually, no, I'm such a bad influence, you definitely should not sneak out. Actually, is it sneaking out if you don't have a curfew and I don't care where you go as long as you aren't an idiot? I guess you can take that room downstairs if you want, whatever you want." Natalie continues to have a conversation with herself as we enter my new bedroom. The boxes we shipped with my things are stacked in the corner along a big wall of windows.

"Thank you, Natalie, it's great. You've done so much." I walk over to the window and look at the view. I can see the waves washing up along the sand. A few people mill along the beach and further down the shore I can see a group of surfers paddling out into the ocean.

"I'm glad you like it. I have to go back to work unfortunately, I really wish that I could stay. Your boxes aren't unpacked yet, but Tiff will do that a little later today. Text me or Tiff if you need anything, her number is down in that little book she made. I'll see you later, okay?" She pulls me in for another hug.

"Okay, thank you again."

"Of course, see you later." She smiles and skips out of the room.

"Bye!" I yell after her. I'm left alone in the room and soon hear the front door slam shut from down below. As soon as I hear the door I bolt from my room to explore the house. I wander down the hallway, pushing open every door and peering inside. Guest bedrooms, bathrooms, a sitting area, and an office are the only doors on the upper level. I make my way downstairs and make my way around the kitchen and living room. Natalie's room is down a hallway to the left of the kitchen, across from the bedroom that I assume is the one she almost put me in. The backyard has an outdoor kitchen and sitting area, as well as a pool. A stone pathway leads down to a gate that opens to the beach. The house is beautiful and it's so quiet and calm. In New York, it was always so loud and chaotic. Life in New York in general was loud. It was so fast-paced, and while I loved always having something to do, peace and quiet was something that I rarely got to enjoy.

Feeling the sudden urge to leave the house, I quickly change into a pair of shorts, grab my bag, and head back downstairs. I open the door to the garage where three cars are lined up. I scan the row of cars and then reach into the cabinet and grab one of the keys. I unlock Natalie's old Bronco and swing open the door. My friend Anna from New York had family in Miami and she used to rave about her cousin who went to the beach all day with her friends and drove around with the top off. She would die if she found out my aunt had one. I grab my phone from my bag and swipe into my messages. Anna Castellane is at the top of the list with 27 unread messages. I feel the corners of my mouth turn down as my smile fades. My finger hovers over her name before I shut my phone off and throw it back in my purse. I start the car and back out of the driveway. I begin to drive down the street blindly, not going anywhere in particular. Anna was my best friend. She and I were inseparable and regardless of how different of people we were, we hardly fought. She was cautious and always looked at things logically. She was far more mellow than I was and she used to joke that she was my mom friend. When it happened, I didn't blame her, but I associated it with her. Seeing her reminded me of everything. I isolated myself from everyone, so she wasn't the only person I blocked out, but losing her hurt me the most. I think part of myself is embarrassed to think people know how vulnerable I am. To think about people picturing what happened to me. I was either the poor, fragile girl that they pitied or the lying slut they hated. There was no in-between.

As I drive down the road that runs along the beach, I see a small cafe overlooking the beach. A purple sign above the door reads Lilah's. I park the car and head inside. It's half full with people scattered throughout the tables. After ordering a coffee and a croissant, I walk through the restaurant and grab a table on the patio in the corner. The patio has stairs that lead directly into the sand. I pull out my phone again and look at Anna's name again. She doesn't know where I am. I didn't even tell anyone I was leaving, so chances are she thinks I'm still in New York being the hermit I was. I click on her name and read through her messages.

AC: Mia please text me back or call me or anything. I just want to know that you're okay.

AC: You know that I love you and I'm always here for you

AC: I'm so so sorry, I should've never left you alone with him.

AC: I saw your mom today. I miss you.

AC: Take as much time to heal as you need. And when you want to speak to me again, know that I'm here and I want to help you. I love you, Mia.

I read the rest of her messages, tears well in my eyes and blur my vision. I reach into my bag and grab my sunglasses. I shove them on my face to hide the fact that I'm beginning to cry

"I'm here, I'm here!" I hear a voice shout from underneath the patio on the beach. I look over to see a boy my age racking a surfboard below me. He bounds up the stairs two steps at a time, peeling his wetsuit off his arms revealing tanned muscle. He shakes his head to move his blond hair out of his eyes. I imagine his actions in slow motion, the way they do it in movies when the hot love interest is introduced. An older man approaches him with a dish towel and hurls it at him. The boy steps back and catches the towel with a laugh.

"Christian, you little shit, you're lucky I like you. This is your fifth day late this month." The man grabs the boy's shoulder.

"Look, man I'm sorry, I lost track of time, you know how it is. Plus," he grabs the older man's wrist to look at his watch, "I'm only five minutes late."

"Six minutes." The older man grumbles. The unusually attractive boy, Christian, grins and his gaze slides over to me. I smile lightly before ducking my head to look back at my phone. Bad move, Anna's name remains at the top of my screen. I pause before quickly shutting my phone off and looking back up to find the space by the stairs now empty. I look towards the interior of the restaurant and watch as he slips through a door inside while playfully yelling at the older man. I return my eyes to my table and finish off my croissant. I grab my coffee and my bag and stand up. I drop my plate in the dish bin and then walk towards the front of the restaurant. I pass by the counter as I head out and meet the gaze of the boy as I walk past him. I break eye contact again and walk out of the cafe and to the car.