The rush of night air against my skin is a huge relief. I run to the sandy beach before sitting myself down to take some deep breathes. I count out the seconds, expanding my lungs to their fullest capacity before emptying them entirely. A breeze tickles my hair and makes my tears feel like snowflakes. I wish that I didn't cry when i get mad. It's one of those things i've always hated and have never been able to control. I hear the sliding door squeak open, but don't look to see who it is. Instead, I quickly wipe at my face, hoping to erase any moisture before whoever it is gets close enough to see me crying. My sleeve is damp with tears by the time someone plops down next to me.
"Hey." I don't turn to look at my guest, but I know exactly who's voice it is. I'd know that voice anywhere. I keep my face turned for a little while longer, hoping to compose a strong and totally-not-sitting-alone-and-crying type of expression.
"Hey," I say with a breathy laugh that I'm not sure I mean. "Sorry about all that."
"Mariella, you know that wasn't your fault." I sigh before finally turning to face my visitor. Ali is looking at me with a neutral expression yet kind expression. Probably trying to mask however she's feeling. Guilt hits me like a brick wall. I'm a horrible friend who's made this week all about myself. Which is exactly what I was afraid of happening. It's like i'm stuck in a jail of self pity that I can't leave no matter how hard I try. It makes me feel disgusting. Which just turns around and makes me feel pitiful all over again. Ironic.
"Ugh, sorry," I repeat, wiping ferociously at my face with the palms of my hands and shaking out my sleeves. Noah can make me feel bad, but I won't let him make me act like a bad friend. "I'm fine, don't worry. How're you? How's everyone else? What's the general mood?"
Ali's controlled expression cracks as she scoffs. "Please, Mariella, you do not have to worry about everyone else right now. You've been there for every single person in there multiple times in the past. You're allowed to feel." A few more tears slip out at the relief. I'm not exactly someone who searches for permission all of the time, but to hear that it's ok to feel the full extent of my hurt from someone I care about so much is a weight off my shoulders.
"Oh, God, I'm a mess," I say with a sniffle and a laugh. I can't remember what mascara I used this morning, but I'm not sure any mascara is built to withstand a cry-fest like this week has been. "I bet I look really good right now," I say sarcastically.
"You always do." Ali's genuine tone catches me by surprise and makes me smile. A real cheek aching, teeth showing kind of smile. She's such a good friend. "Anyway, they all kinda want to talk to you. They sent me to see if you're up to it. Test the waters, so to speak. I guess they want to hear from you. Big surprise, Noah's not exactly their favorite source of information at the moment."
I take a moment to look up at the sky. It's the same sky it's always been. It's comforting to know that even when something feels earth shattering, it doesn't truly affect anything. One day, this whole experience will be like those stars: tiny, and one of millions.
"Yeah, I should probably explain what's been going on. I guess it was a bit naïve to think they wouldn't want to know. But if it's okay, I'd prefer Noah weren't there to interrupt me."
"Obviously. Okay, you wait here and i'll be right back." She squeezes my hand before standing up and running to the house.
Ignorance might be bliss, but it is also unfair. I would want to know if I were on the other side of this, too. Besides, Noah took away all my choices. What right do I have to decide what my friends should and shouldn't know?
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...
