'til forever falls apart | gracie abrams

5 - toeing that line

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The last thing Gracie expected to be doing over winter break was hang out with Amelie nearly everyday. She had been blowing her friends off every time they asked her to meet up, conjuring up some lame excuses like her parents wanting to spend quality time as a family or needing to study. Instead, she was meeting up with Amelie at the beach, watching in an enchanted trance as she honed her already near perfect skills by herself.

Gracie brought her journal with her to the beach every time, jotting down random snippets of thoughts that she would eventually try turning into a song or two, but mostly she was just watching. Amelie's passion was incredibly admirable, and it only made her more attractive in Gracie's eyes.

"Do you want to learn?" Amelie offered suddenly, catching Gracie off-guard as she struggled to stand up in the sand, "It can't be that entertaining watching me hit a ball to myself all day everyday."

"Um, I'm okay. I like watching you practice," Gracie shook her head, brushing off the sand from her tracksuit pants with her palms, "I'd be hopeless at it anyway."

"Nonsense, you're an athlete yourself, aren't you?" Amelie recalled, "Come on, just give it a try."

"Melie, no, soccer is very different to volleyball," Gracie rejected again, "My hand eye co-ordination is appalling, I'll just embarrass myself!"

"Oh, who cares?" Amelie rolled her eyes fondly, "You can't be good at everything you try for the first time. That would make it unfair on the rest of us. Come on, just give it a go."

Amelie pulled Gracie in by the waist, placing the volleyball in her hands and positioning her body in the correct form. If she was inclined enough to try, she could've probably heard Gracie's heart ready to beat its way out of her chest, and the brunette was simply just lucky enough that the hue of the sunset masked the blush that was creeping up her neck.

"Just toss it up like that," Amelie instructed, her hand under Gracie's as she stood behind her, "And hit."

"Melie, the timing of this is literally impossible. How do you make it look so easy?" Gracie groaned after miserably failing and missing the ball when she tossed it in the air.

"Well, for starters, I've been doing this since I was seven," Amelie acknowledged, "And two, my dad actually grew up here and was a coach at UCLA before he moved to Spain."

"Well, that makes a lot of sense," Gracie huffed.

She had never noticed how tall Amelie was until that moment, the sun angled at just the right height for Amelie's body to cast a shadow over Gracie as she stared at her, bewitched. Gracie had never been accused of being vertically challenged, standing at a comfortable five feet, eight inches she had been content with her whole life. Amelie must've been at least six foot one. She was simply perfect, beautiful in the way she imagined people probably fought wars over during sometime in history, confident but not arrogant, almost villainously so. Gracie would volunteer to be her willing victim anytime, should she ask.

The two girls were now sitting together on the ocean rocks, facing towards the sunset. Amelie still had her volleyball in her lap, but she had finally taken a moment to relax.

"Why did you decide to move here? Alone, nonetheless?" Gracie suddenly asked, curious to uncover more of the mystery that was Amelie Maples.

"Well, the States definitely offers more opportunities in terms of college volleyball, which is the ultimate goal, I suppose. I would love to be able to play at my dad's alma mater," Amelie explained, "His sister, my aunt, still lives here so I've been staying with her since I moved."