Love In Destin ✔

14 - sunshine

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𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒌

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A WARM FEELING creeps into the cold walls of my heart as Mark makes me recall the pranks we pulled on the seniors during Freshman year.

"Mr. Collins was mad for days," laughs Mark.

"Man, those were the good days. Now, all we have to think about are the SATs and University," Jace groans.

"You should've been thinking about that last year," Camille remarks, lifting her eyes from her phone, and her words make Jace groan even more.

We are all gathered at my locker as I change my books, trying to soothe my heart for the game. School has ended, and practice starts in a few minutes.

"We promise to be there tonight," says Jace.

"That's what you said the last time, and I didn't see you anywhere on the bleachers," I shut my locker, my voice almost a whisper in the chaos of conversations as everyone makes their way to the exit.

"Come on, dude, your game was the same night as my brother's gig. I had to be there,"

"Yeah, we'll see," I say as he mumbles another something under his breath.

Mark pats my back in encouragement, and Camille hugs me before they join the crowd heading to the exit. I begin my journey to the boys' locker room.

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𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒂

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"Alright, that's enough smoothies for one day," Aunt Abby grabs the glass from my grip. "What's up with you, Maya?"

The minute I got home, I immediately went for the blender, grabbing some frozen strawberries and bananas from the freezer and mixing them with milk and ice cubes.

The instant it was blended, I gulped glass after glass, making even more after the first batch was over. I wanted to drown my mind in the delicious and peculiarly refreshing drink. This is what I do every time things get the better of me. It's an impulsive habit that happens without a single thought, just like when we all wake up and go to the bathroom without thinking about it.

"You've just had five glasses of smoothies. Five, and the strawberries are almost over. Damn, it's as if you were drinking alcohol or something," she says, rinsing the utensils I used. I bite my bottom lip, wishing I didn't drink as much so she wouldn't have to do this.

I stand from my seat, strolling to her, "I'm sorry, Aunt Abby. Leave it, I'll do it,"

"Nope," she snags my hands with her wet ones and sits me back down on the barstool. "What I need you to do is tell me why you're so down?"

"I'm upset at myself," I sigh. "Sometimes I think I'm helping people, but instead I just make matters worse,"

"Then what were the smoothies for?"

"They help me feel better," I shrug.

Aunt Abby dries her hands with a kitchen towel before standing by me, an arm sliding across my neck. "Darling, instead of wasting strawberries, why don't you just go out and have fun? You're eighteen, for goodness sake,"

"How is going out supposed to make me feel better?" I turn my head to look at her, her green eyes appearing more vivid than usual.

"It helps take your mind off things," she takes her arm off my shoulder. "Why do you think I go out so much? Life as an adult can surely be a headache at times, especially if you're working with a bunch of imbeciles and Karens," she groans, her face clearly showing disgust.