𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 - 𝐁.𝐄

twelve - fingertips

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billie.
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july 25th.

i saw her, she saw me. in that moment, the world seemed to shrink and pulled us into a moment that felt infinite. would she tell people that i'm here? would she whisper it into the wind and let it carry to every corner of the earth? or would she tuck it away, a secret between merely two strangers that shall never meet gazes again? i wondered if she was living alone in that giant house, the one that seemed out of reach, so far in the distance. i could almost imagine myself in the empty rooms echoing with silence, that is, if she's alone of course.

she sees me, i see her. our eyes locked, a singular thread binding us across the water. why she won't look away? do i look bad? i can't help but feel out of place, my outfit a poor reflection of the coastal east-coast aesthetic everyone else seems to fit in around here so effortlessly. i know i stick out, not really helping me try to hide away.

why can't i look away? there's something about her that pulls me in, something magnetic and irresistible. her hair was sleek, beautiful and tamed, framing her angelic face in a way that's effortlessly pleasing to the eye. her cheeks are slightly puffy, a lingering trace of baby fat that makes her look both youthful and endearing. and her lips—should i be looking at them? i squint, trying to capture every detail of that pretty face from afar, as if memorizing it will somehow make this moment last longer. everything about her is impressive, captivating in a way that feels almost surreal. i've never been so intrigued, so utterly captivated by someone's beauty before. is this normal?

but then, she seems to get nervous under the weight of our unbroken gaze. her eyes drop back down to the water, her feet swaying gently beneath the surface, creating ripples that spread out. i do the same, suddenly aware of how awkward this is, how exposed i feel. she must know it's me, right? should i break this silent standoff we've got going on? or would that just make everything more complicated?

whatever, you only live once, right? and let's be real—i'll probably never see her again after this trip anyway. so, i take a breath, letting the air fill my lungs, and call out, "hey!" my voice cutting through the stillness and echoing across the lake, bouncing off the creaky wooden docks, the small and large boats, and the trembling waters beneath us. it reverberates off the cement walls of the houses lining the coast.

she nearly snaps her head back at me, her head cocked to the side, a mix of curiosity and uncertainty in her eyes. she glances around, as if to make sure i'm really talking to her, then points to herself, confusion coloring her features. "me?" she asks, her voice carrying just enough for me to catch the note of disbelief.

i nod, flashing a small smile, trying to seem casual, though my heart is pounding. "yeah, you! what's good?" i say, the words floating over the distance between us, a bridge to close the gap.

she leans in, as if that might somehow help her hear me better, her expression still laced with confusion. "what!?" she calls back, her voice tinged with confusion , like she's straining to catch my words that she couldn't hear.

i chuckle, leaning in myself, even though i know it won't make a difference. the distance is too great, but i try anyway. "i said, what's good!?" i repeat, louder this time, hoping it'll reach her.

but she just shakes her head, a small, exasperated smile playing on her lips. "can't hear!" she shouts, pointing to her ear, her voice calm. i can't help but smile, shaking my head at the situation, at the ridiculousness of it all. "sorry!" she adds, her voice carrying a note of apology, her expression softening into a slight pout that i can just barely make out from here. there's something endearing about it, something that makes me want to keep this conversation going, no matter how absurd and sudden it all seems to be.

i scoff, a low chuckle coming from deep within as i glance down at my feet, toes sloshing along the against the soft waves.

would it really be so terrible to go over there? to talk, to see where this idle curiosity leads me? i've been bored, listless, and this feels like a tiny thrill i could use. why not? the thought flutters through me like a secret, carried on the lazy breeze coming off the water.

"lemme come over there!" i shout, the words slipping out before i can think twice, carried on a breath that feels too loud against the calm of the afternoon.

she shrugs, a quick, almost careless movement that somehow catches the sun just right, casting a halo around her figure. it's as if she heard me through the soft rustling of leaves, through the distant lapping of the water. "sure!" she calls back, her voice bouncing across the lake like when one skips rocks.

she stands, pulling herself up from the dock with an easy grace, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. "don't cut through the trees!" she adds, her hands falling back to her sides, the warning slipping out with a hint of familiarity, like it's something she's said a thousand times before.

i nod, a small movement she might not even see from across the water, but i don't bother yelling back. the distance feels longer, the space between us heavy with the unspoken, and i'm suddenly aware of how my voice might get lost and incoherent in the journey to her. instead, i give her a thumbs up, half-hearted and barely there, still hoping she saw it.

i step up along the dock, turning around. my steps are light as i start back down my own wooden dock, each footfall a mirror to hers, our movements synchronized.

as i weave through the backyard, the familiar scent of damp earth and sun-warmed wood wrapping around me, i pull out my phone, the screen lighting up with the familiar faces in my family group chat—claudia, finneas, mom, dad. i type out a quick message, nothing detailed, just letting them know i'll be away for a few minutes. they don't ask where, they never do. they can track me, see my location hovering nearby the lake and cottage, a tiny blinking dot in a sea of green. their replies come quick, a chorus of "be safe" that feels like a protective charm.

i round the corner of the cottage, the building's shadow lingering against my skin until i walk off and veer right, my steps aligning with the empty sidewalk that stretches out in front of me. each step brings me closer, the dark iron gates and towering trees looming ahead like something out of a story, marking the boundary of where i'm supposed to be.

as i approach, i catch sight of her again, her figure a blur of movement, her brown wavy hair bouncing with each hurried step as she runs to meet me at the gate. there's something almost magical in the way she moves, a liveliness that feels contagious, drawing me in. i find myself smiling, something easy and unforced, as i watch her fumble with the lock, fingers moving with a familiarity that tells me she's probably done this a hundred times before.

with a soft click, the gate swings open, and she's there, her breath coming in shallow, quick bursts, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "hi," she says, her voice still catching on the remnants of her run as if she's trying to catch up to herself.

i step onto the cobblestone, the hard surface solid beneath my shoes as i move forward, the gate clicking shut behind me as she locks it again.

i smile, my gaze drifting to the back of her head, admiring the way her hair catches the light. "hey," i respond, my voice softer now, almost intimate in the quiet that has settled around us. i grow curious, and my question slips out. "...what's your name?" i spoke softly, a gentle curiosity laced with something more—an invitation, maybe.

"julia,"

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1404 words.
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