Superstition {On hold}

Chapter 6

Chapter VI

Beth

The car engine purred softly as Beth waited outside Reece's house the next morning. It was a van, black, with a slide door. A Native American dreamcatcher dangled from the rear-view mirror. The seats were coated with dark grey velvet which Beth sometimes loved to stroke. She just loved the way it felt under her hand.

So soft!

She tapped the steering wheel impatiently. How long does it take to put on a shirt, a pair of trousers and shoes and have breakfast? Apparently, it takes more than thirty six minutes. In some ways, Reece seemed more like a girl than she was. She began to wonder if it was a good idea for her to offer him a ride yesterday right before he left. Well, it was great that he came over to listen to her play the Axe Backbiter, and maybe even, um...sweet of him for being concerned about her bruise. It was the least she could do to thank him. She didn't show it back then but she really needed the comfort of a friend. It was a moment of weakness. This time she'll hold in her feelings better, not letting them get the best of her. I won't let my emotions surface, she promised herself later that evening after having a good cry in her room. Yes it was hard, painful even, but she had to try. Beth despised weakness in others but most of all, she hated weakness in herself. Bottling her emotions and hardening was the only way for her to hide her insecurity, like the shell and exoskeleton of a crab, protecting and concealing its soft and gooey body from the rough tidal waves of life.

Beth killed the engine and looked straight ahead.

But even that hard shell breaks...

The waves of life would crash down onto you again and again, slamming you into the hard bedrock of stress, agony and disappointment until your shell completely shattered into a thousand pieces. Broken beyond repair. Then the rest would be up to you. You could either lay there in despair. Build a new shell and go for round two. Or keep going without a shell and expose your soft insides for the world to see and stomp on. But whichever option you chose, no matter how hard you'd try, you'd always, always go back to square one. And that was life for everyone. 

Beth was so lost in her thoughts that she hardly heard the passenger door open. "Morning, Beth," Reece said as he stepped into the van. Beth glanced over as he stepped in. His dark brown hair was still wet; the water trickled down the side of his face and soak into his long sleeved shirt. She smiled briefly. "What took you so long? Hair and make-up? I've been waiting here for, like, an hour or two."

"Ah," Reece said, lifting his index finger into the air like he was about to say something really smart. There was a smug twinkle in his eyes. "Who told you to come so early?" Beth rolled her eyes. "Whoever told you to go shove it, that's who," Beth countered. She turned the ignition and the engine bellowed to life instantly. "Wait, don't you normally take the bus?" Beth asked, suddenly remembering that Reece normally took the bus in the morning as they drove down the road. "Yeah, but it won't be passing by today. I told my mum that I won't be taking the bus this morning, that you'd come pick me up."

"Mmh," Beth frowned. "'Come to pick me up.' Doesn't sound right when a dude says it..." Reece rubbed the side of his arm like he'd just been punched. "No," he agreed. "Not one bit..."

Beth couldn't help but notice Reece passively glancing over at her, looked straight ahead, then flick his head back at her again in surprise. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed with amusement and a pinch on confusion. "You're bruise," he said quietly, his eyes still on her face. Beth waited for him to go on but he seemed too stunned. She bit her bottom lip as questions flew through her head. What was wrong with it? Was it better or worse? Had it spread across her face? I knew I shouldn't have breezed past the mirror this morning! "Dang it, Reece, spit it out already!" she demanded, uncomfortable.