Saving Elliot ©2015 Sydney Wray

Chapter 2~Policy: Drink from the straw

I sat at our long business table, overlooking the beach while day dreaming. The sun's heat and rays shone through the wide windows. While some surfers sat on the sand waxing their boards, other's either simply tanned or strolled in a relaxing manner. I still hadn't spotted a wild-haired blonde.

"Elliot, have you finished the Stock Graphs yet?" My Father's voice interrupted my thoughts, making me drop my pen in startlement.

I cleared my throat, straightening my tie and grasping my pen to concentrate on the Graph. "Almost, Father."

He eyed me. "Something is.. different about you."

I swallowed, finding the average of the numbers on the paper. "I don't think so."

My father suddenly snapped his fingers. "That's it! Damian bought you a new tie. Nice color, Elliot."

He crossed the main window I had used for staring and leaned on the kitchen counter.

I frowned at the paper, pausing the pen in midair. I've had the tie for months now and had worn it many times around him. "You're right. It's probably the tie."

Silence ached on; the only sounds audible were my pen scratching away. Finally, I had finished my task and handed it to my father.

"Where are you going, Elliot?" He asked as I began to exit the room.

I parted my lips, about to inform him of my departure outside to look for a certain blonde-when I quickly corrected my obvious mistake. "To the library. I must catch up on the general stocking at hand."

Father nodded in approval, signaling for me to continue.

I quickly slipped out the door into the heat, taking a breath.

[~~~]

Out of all my years living in California, I had never been to The Shack. Presumably, I must've been with my mother when I was younger; but that was years ago. So when I unknowingly entered the beach-crazed "Shack," I definitely felt out of place. Being clothed in a tight, stark suit stood out among the bathing-suit and sand covered teenagers.

Some girls, their bodies too perfect for any human being, eyed me as I nonchalantly peeked over heads of people.

I cringed as I foreignly watched a couple become quite comfortable with their lips, and shook my head to straighten my posture. I was too mature for that, as my Father would say.

"You gonna buy somthin' or what?" A slight southern accent came from my right, startling me as I blinked at her question.

She was a naturally pretty brunnet; her hair was pulled into a slick ponytail and a backwards black hat, which accented her, 'The Shack,' work shirt. She looked wound my age. "So? Are you deaf, too?" She asked with an amusing tone.

"Um, yeah-I mean-yes. Yes, I would love a drink." I stuttered my reply, being caught off guard.

The girl raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. I followed her motion onto a deserted area on the side of the bar, which was strangely empty because of the amount of people in the place.

"What'll it be?"

I was still absently looking around, gaining no luck in finding the mysterious girl. "Just a water, please."

I watched her nod and a water was placed in front of me within a matter of seconds.

It was quite while I glanced around and not at the girl.