Changing Tides (c.h)

Story Of My Life

Aleena Venessa Oliphant. That's my name. It's odd and believe me - I know.

My elementary school nickname was Ally the Red Elephant. This was because of my last name and fiery red hair, yet despite my lanky form. I've become accustomed to the old nickname. The words that were harsh before aren't anymore. Yes, my hair is as red as a fire truck and yes my last name sounds like the word elephant. I get it. It's not funny. And still, to this day, some sadistic and bitchy cheerleaders use it when they want to see me squirm.

The thing is, I used to be one of those bitchy cheerleaders. I would make fun of people's last names and too bright hair. I used to be friends with the people that now just want to pester me. I used to dye my hair blonde to fit in. But, that all changed when the tide rolled in my senior year. Now, I embody sarcasm and am in my town's college - much to the chagrin of my dear mother and grandmother. They've instilled in me that Harvard is the only acceptable school for an Oliphant. My brother disregarded the pressures, going to NYU and then moving to California afterward. He's been free for three years now.

My father would pull us both aside when those expectations would get too harsh or too demanding. He would lean in real close so that we could smell his minty aftershave and say, "Your grades don't define you. You define your grades." Now to the normal human mind this wouldn't be an inspirational or deep statement. But to me, it was. In my head, I would always replace the 'your grades' with 'the world,' which made it seem more him. My father was always the smartest man I knew. He always knew everything. Well, except for how awful living in this town would end up being. And that he would be alive to see me graduate high school.

We live in Block Island, Rhode Island - aka suburbia. The only thing that sets out small town apart from the others is that we're on the beach. The houses are colonial cookie cutter perfection. Each one has a white door and picket fence surrounding a well-kept lawn and a new stone path. My dad, the only rebellious soul in my family, planted two walls of rose bushes along our path. They're taken care of by my grandmother weekly so the thorns don't scratch us when we leave the house. The red roses are on the right while the roses on the left are white. Those two together represent unity. My dad always wanted us Oliphants to be a united front. The roses are a reminder to at least try to be.

But trying gets tough. And the only two people who can relieve me of that weight are my two best friends Kiandra, and August. Who, currently, are lounging in my bedroom at my mom's house with their eyes plastered to my TV on the far wall. A gory scene from The Walking Dead flashes across my 20-inch screen - courtesy of Oliphant and Co.

Now, you may be wondering why a capable 19-year-old girl is living with her mother. And why she's chosen to be three hours away from her college. It's because I can't bear to leave this small town - no matter how horrible it has been to me. This is the last place that my father was alive in. And anywhere else wouldn't feel like home without the memories of him floating around. And yes, I have been to see a therapist about this. And no, I'm still never leaving.

"Ally." August grabs onto my slim wrist, his tan fingers pushing the silver charm bracelet I have on into my skin. The sudden touch scares me and he laughs at my small jump.

"Yes, August?" I look into his chocolate brown eyes, searching for a hint of mischief.

I find it.

"Can you get me some popcorn?"

"No."

August pouts and squeezes my wrist. "Please," I shake my head. "Please, Ally. Ms. Oliphant scares me."

"Nobody is here, August. I'm alone for the whole month, remember?"

He lets go of my wrist. "Sorry - I completely forgot about that." I move the charm bracelet around my wrist, trying to get rid of the pain from his vice grip on me.

"It's okay; Michael is coming down tonight." August nods and hops up from my bed with grace only a life-long surfer can have. I cringe as I hear August crashing around in the kitchen and sporadic beeps from the microwave. That boy can't even be trusted with popcorn.

Next to me, Kiandra sighs and throws the remote down on my duvet. "I'm going to go back to the dorms." I mimic August's signature pout. "I need to finish our Human Behavior essay for tomorrow." Groaning, I fall back onto the bed; I forgot about that...

"Bye Kia! Can you tell August to take his popcorn to go?" I let out a much-needed breath and move towards my window. Through the curtains, I see their shadowy figures walk through my backyard to the ferry. Once they leave, I get down to business.

I connect my phone into my room's speakers, hitting shuffle on my Spotify playlist. 5 Seconds of Summer's Outer Space/Carry On flows through the room. The song puts me in the perfect essay-writing mood and I plop down at my desk with my laptop to start.

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Four hours later, I've drained six cups of coffee and repeated my playlist twice. I'm exhausted. The good thing is that the conclusion I can do on the ferry before class. So suck it, Mr. Molinaro - essays can be written overnight.

I shut down my laptop, aware of how dark it is outside and how hungry I am. I unplug my phone from the speakers and slip it into my pocket as I tiptoe downstairs.

I step into the darkened kitchen, wary of the mess that August made. I flick on the light near the microwave. There isn't much damage, but there is a whole lot of burnt popcorn shoved into the sink. I let in a deep breath. I take small, cautious steps in the dark and make my way toward where I know the garbage bags are.

That's when I stumble over a large and immobile lump. I fall to the floor and grab my phone from my pocket. I put on the flashlight, shining it in the direction of the thing I tripped on. The light reveals a pair of tanned ankles, the feet clad in black low-top Vans.

My hand is shaking.

I move the light farther up. The guy - I assume - is in fetus position; his ripped jeans are straining against his knees.

I move the light again. The guy is wearing a black and yellow Nirvana smiley face tee shirt - what is it with this guy and black? - while his arms are curled into his chest.

Then, I see his face and my heart stops beating.

He's hot as fuck.

His jawline is soft and his nose is large and pushed in. His plump pink lips are parted, blowing air at a blonde strand of his brown hair. The features are strikingly Kiwi. He seems so familiar, but in the soft darkness, I can't tell.

His eyes shoot open and I find myself staring into a pair of well-known brown eyes.

Holy shit.

That's when Calum lets out a blood-curdling scream and I stay surprisingly calm.

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a/n:

so...

i am so extremely sorry for deleting y.t., but i didn't feel like i could continue the story anymore. sorry.

anyways. CALUM HOOD + ME = TRUE LOVE.

jk (kinda no really) calum + aleena = something called calleena ;)

please vote and comment! it only takes a second or two.

p.s. the chapter titles will all be songs so look out for faves and comment some ideas. always appreciate it.

p.p.s the gif in the side/media box is aleena (played by ebba zingmark)