Beached (book 3)

Chapter 9

Pearl's POV

Where is Pale? I asked myself pacing in Matthew's old bedroom. She was just saying hello to Brian right?

I laid on my back on top of my bed and stared at the white ceiling.

I'm borrrrrred. Where is Paleeeee?

I turned to the clock on my nightstand. Pale left 40 minutes ago, where is she?

I heard a door slam and I nearly sprinted to the window. Was Pale home? I hope she's home!

I saw Pale walk slowly up the driveway to the house. I noticed a large black machine back away from Pale and joined the other machines on a long black pavement. Pale told me those machines are dangerous and should never cross a pavement without looking out for machines. What were they called...cares? Caress? Carries?

It didn't matter now.

I heard feet running up the stairs, I walked out of my room and engulfed Pale in a large welcoming hug.

"You're back!" I exclaimed still wrapping her in my embrace.

She pushed herself off of me and let out a small laugh.

"Pearl, I wasn't gone for that long," Pale protested, back leaning against the blue walls of the hallway.

I nodded. "You only said you were going to say hi to him."

"Yeah about that..." Pale trailed, avoiding eye contact. "I kind of got caught up with stuff..."

I rolled my eyes. Sure Pale, you keep telling yourself that.

"Hey I mean it!" Pale exclaimed as if she read my mind. "Can we just...not talk about it okay?"

I shrugged and grabbed Pale's wrist, leading her into my room.

I sat on my bed and Pale squeezed next to me.

"Being a human is fun," I said.

Pale shrugged. "I guess so."

What do you mean? I thought. Being a human is great! You can walk and swim, you have big machines and live in big houses! You have no predators to worry about! I haven't seen a shark here yet!

"I just wish they had more comfortable clothes," I complained, recognizing the severe itch around my abdomen, why did it have to be covered up? Can't people just walk around in bikinis all day?

I scratched my head violently. "And my hair is so rough! Why is it so disgusting? It's so knotty and dry! In the ocean, it was so nice and smooth!"

My fingers angrily ran though my hair. Why is it so annoying? Do I need to live with this my whole life? How did Pale even do this for fourteen years?

"Yeah," Pale responded, scratching behind her neck. "I could...give you a haircut."

I looked into her large brown eyes. Near her iris, a slight spindle of green erupted through the mud.

"What's a haircut?"

Haircut. Hair. Cut. Cut of the hair. Cutting my hair? Why would anyone do that! Well, my hair is annoying....