Fixing phones is expensive. The guy working at the store seems to know what he's doing, but does it really need to cost so much money? I hand over my credit card reluctantly, knowing i'll have to pay my mom back. I sigh as he rings up my total and hands back the card and a receipt. I sign it quickly and stuff my copy in my pocket. I'll have to remember how much it cost.
Ali is somewhere nearby getting coffee for us while I wait. She hates sitting still, and without a phone or person to distract me, I can see why. I sit on a bench in the store as the worker goes to the back to bring me my fixed phone. Staring at the grains of sand falling from the bottom of my shoe, I let my mind drift. Soon my vision is filled with Soren's green eyes and sandy blonde hair. He smiles at me and it makes my stomach squirm.
"Miss? Your phone?" I jump slightly at the abrupt noise. I quickly recover and turn to the man to give him a smile.
"Thank you so much," I say as I take the phone from his waiting hand. The screen is glossy and new and the phone jumps to life at the touch of my fingerprint. Thank God.
"Try not to drop it again," he says with a chuckle. Very funny.
"I'll try," I reply, my smile fake and broad. I hate talking to strangers. It makes me so anxious. I slip my phone in my pocket next to my wallet and stand up to leave the store. Ali isn't back yet, but I feel weird just waiting inside so I decide to just sit in the shade until she's back. A bell chimes as I push the door of the store open and exit. The sun is blazing, proving that today will be another hot day. The air smells of the distant ocean mixed with hot pavement and a hint of diner food. It smells like summer to me. It also reminds me that i'm growing increasingly hungry with every minute. I stand under the awning of what looks to be a neighboring hair salon and keep an eye out for Ali. Man, my stomachs loud. Where is she?
I take the time alone to go through any texts i've missed. There's a bunch from Noah, sent before he showed up. I delete those without reading them again. There's a few from my mom, but none too recent since I was able to speak to her through Ali's phone. I send a quick text letting her know my phone is working again and i'll call her soon. I scan through a few more messages from distant friends asking about Noah without responding. They're probably just looking for something to gossip about. Small towns are fun like that.
"Boo!" Despite knowing it's her, I still jump at the sound of Ali's voice. I really need to work on my jittery nerves. First the guy in the store and now Ali.
"You scared me!" I shove her shoulder as she giggles.
"Sorry, you're just such an easy target," Ali taunts. "Here, I got you an iced mocha and a breakfast wrap." I take the food from her hand gratefully and sip on the reusable straw of the cool drink.
"Apology accepted."
"So he fixed it? Good as new?" Ali gestures to my pocket where i've put my phone back again.
"Works like a dream. I think he overcharged me, though. They can do that when they're the only repair shop for miles."
"Maybe," Ali says, unbothered, while sipping on a drink of her own. She probably wouldn't have given the cost a second thought. Oh, to be her. "You wanna head back now?"
"Back" is the last place I wanna go right now, but I can't think of any other place to go. Shopping takes money which I just spent a whole lot of on my stupid old phone. I already have food in my hand. I don't have a towel for the beach and the movie theater doesn't open until night time. Stalling is out of the picture. I sigh loudly. "I guess so."
Ali nods sympathetically before heading to the car. We let the AC run for a minute before stepping in. The car's leather is hot enough to cook an egg.
"Ugh, my legs are gonna get stuck to the seat," I complain as Ali climbs behind the wheel.
"I hate that," she replies as she buckles her seatbelt and turns on the radio. Ali and I are similar in a lot of ways, but one way we majorly differ is in our music taste. I've never heard any of the songs she plays before in my life, but she seems to know every word. The air conditioner is working hard, but the bright sun is working harder, and soon I begin to work up a small sweat.
I roll down my window and feel the salty air slap against my face. The fresh air cools me down. I close my eyes, exhausted even though the day has only just started. Does everyone get this emotionally tired all the time? Perks of being an introvert, I guess. I drag my finger along the buttons that control the windows, making a game out of the shapes I can draw. It calms me.
"Mariella, do you want me to kick him out?"
I drop the finger that was drawing shapes and rest my head on my hand.
"Maybe in an ideal world. But I think in this one he would just throw a big tantrum and make everything about himself."
"You're probably right. I just can't stand him being around so I can't imagine what it's like for you. I know you're never supposed to say stuff like this when friends break up in case they get back together, but I hate him."
I look at Ali in shock. I knew she didn't like how Noah treated me, but I didn't think she'd ever hate him. We were all friends before we ever dated. I know I shouldn't like it, but it's kind of a relief to hear.
"You really hate him?"
"God, yes! For like two years now! I'm so glad I can finally say it."
"Two years? We've only been dating for two and a half."
"And he's sucked for for twenty-nine of those thirty months!"
"Thirty months... Wow..." I've never counted our relationship out like that. That seems like so much time.
"Well, for what it's worth, I hate him too," I say after a bit.
"I think his egos gotten out of hand for most of his friends," Ali says quietly.
"Really? Like who?"
"Never mind. It's not important." Normally I would press for her to tell me, but her expression combined with the fact that I just hid all of this from her keeps me from pushing.
As the wind tangles my hair, I prepare myself to re-enter the house I was so happy to escape for an hour or two. I just hope that Noah gives up and leaves soon. But I know that's just wishful thinking. You can call him many things, but he's never really been a quitter.
YOU ARE READING
The Beach House
Romance--completed- Mariella looks forward to going to the beach house every single year. She's gone with her friends for as long as she can remember. The same people, the same house, the same summer feeling. But this year something's different: her boyfri...
