It's Time (Sequel to Radioactive)

Chapter 4

Kelley's POV

I walked along the strip of sandy beach, holding a glass of something in my hand. Charlie had ordered it for me, although she hadn't told me what it was exactly. I tried a bit of it, but didn't like it. In general, I didn't fancy alcohol, but I agreed to try it. It felt rude dumping the glass out, so I carried it around with me. A full glass was also an excuse for someone not to offer me another drink.

If asked, I wouldn't be able to describe why I was walking alone on the beech late at night. Maybe it was because the dance hall was crowded, maybe it was because I didn't want to be here at all.

Walking in the sand was nice; I had taken my shoes off and left them by the stones steps. Feeling sand beneath my feet was relaxing and brought back old memories of walking in the waters at home.

I kept walking on the beach for another half hour or so, until I heard someone call my name. I thought it was Charlie till the person came closer and I was able to hear their voice better. It belonged to Mike, the cook and tennis champion.

"Hey Kelley, can you do me a favour?" He asked, running down the stairs and onto the sand. I laughed when he almost fell, trying to move quickly in the sand.

I nodded and stood still, so he could catch me without much hassle.

"I've been told I've got to assist these people for a week, basically tour them around the island."

Once he caught up, we continued walking along the beach. The waves crept up the shore, so I could just feel the warm waters with my feet.

"I don't want to do it," he explained slowly. "It means taking a week away from the kitchens, I don't want to leave Sam with some new guy, and I was also supposed to go into town with a couple friends through the week."

What I'm really trying to say is," he finally spoke up, so his voice was clear and confident. "Would you be willing to take the job? It's more money than lifeguarding, and you basically just look after some people for a week. No big deal. So what do you say?"

I looked up from the water and saw Mike's eyes locked on mine. There was despair, longing and hopefulness intertwined in his dark brown eyes.

I timidly shook my head, and gave Mike a small smile.

"I'm really sorry, but I can't. I promised Sam I'd take her extra shifts this week, and I don't want to screw her up. Thanks for the offer though. Maybe someone else would want to. I can also honestly say, I don't fancy babysitting for a week."

Mike softened and laughed at my last remark.

"I don't think anyone fancies it. Thanks anyways though."

Mike gave me a light kiss on the cheek before heading along the beach to the stairs that led back to the dance hall. He was really nice, and I felt bad for saying no, but I owed it to Sam to take her shifts. I also wanted to enjoy my summer, not scream at a million little kids.

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George's POV

It was getting late, people were beginning to clear out of the dance hall.  The band had long left, and someone was just spinning old records on the table in the corner.  John and Paul were still talking to girls, Rings had crashed in the corner, which left me alone.  In some way I appreciated it.

I wanted to join Ringo, who had found a pillow on a chair and snuggled into a corner.  He looked quite comfortable.  I was tired from the travelling and the social events, being forced to talk to people and pretend to care about their lives. 

Yawning, I walked over from the wall I was leaning against to the corner where the house band had left their gear.  I would have gone to our rooms to get my own, but I doubted I would be able to find my there and back again.  I searched around for a minute before finding a newish looking Gibson acoustic.  Satisfied with my catch, I picked up the guitar and silently slipped out the room, heading for the stairs to the beach. 

I was happy to find no one else sitting on the stairs.  The emptiness left me alone, with the sound of the waves finding their way to shore, and the rustling leaves on the trees. 

As I sat on the stairs, I fiddled around with the guitar, not playing anything in particular.  It was refreshing, not having anyone commenting on the playing, not taking requests for songs,  not having to play for someone else.  I was playing for myself, which I hadn't been able to do in a while.

Sitting there along brought a memory back to me, one that I had hoped vanished a while ago.  I remembered standing at the window, slowly watching while the car came and hit the younger girl, then having to face her friend.  It haunted me, and for some reason this place brought the terrors back.  They had stopped after we left Toronto, but now they were back, and I couldn't exactly say why.

Very slowly, I started playing Like A Rollin' Stone. I had heard the girl sing it when she was alone in our rooms.  Singing the song brought some peace to my mind, and helped the terrors go away.

When I finished playing, I looked up from the lake which I had been staring at, to see a person climbing up the stairs to the docks on the opposite side of the beach.  I could hear the faintest sound of the song coming from the person, who was picking up a pair of shoes from the steps.  Apparently I hadn't just been playing for myself.