Island.

Chapter 14

Fourteen.

The next couple of days were pretty much the same. I basically stayed in my room for the whole day, only coming down to Earth when I was really hungry. I wasn’t allowed to use the phone, TV or even go for a walk. And since I had a whole week off from school, I couldn’t even use that as an excuse.

For the past two days, I’ve spent a better part of my time memorizing the views from my balcony. Wasting away my youth was probably a better way of putting it. Leia wasn’t allowed to visit, and I sometimes saw weirdo at the beach, with his easel and his paints, from my balcony.

It was as if this Phoebe never existed. He appeared the same way as when we first met, awfully isolated from the rest of the world. It was hard seeing him, and remembering. It brought back memories from the cave. And I suddenly remembered that he never explained the painting of the fire. And I needed to get the truth out of him about that. Every time we touched the topic, I was getting the cold shoulder, and being told to avoid it.

Suddenly deciding on a whim that I was going to the cave, I slipped on a pair of jeans and a tee. I practically ran down the stairs, and half yelled to my mother that I was going for a walk. I slipped out the door before she could get a chance to stop me.

Being out in the fresh air cleared my head. I was missing the feeling of being out, taking a walk, and just being free. Like I didn’t have to think about anything other than what I wanted to do at that moment. It was the most amazing thing.

I made my way to the cave, taking my time going through. The only light was from through the bushes, which I had come in through. It was different, coming back here. The feeling of anxiety wasn’t there. I wasn’t anxious to see anyone. I stepped over the sharp rock slowly and made my way to the clearing. The sunlight illuminated the entire cave, just as I remembered it. The cesspool was filled with starfish, of every color.

It was a relief to have that sense of contentment, or calm again. Like I was supposed to be here. Like it was some sort of sanctuary. And I found it a little easier to think. I was able to focus, and a million things weren’t going through my head at the same time. I sat down at the edge of the pool, just under the sunlight. Even though this place was exactly what I needed, it felt sort of different. Empty. There were no paintings here, just a blank canvas. There was no trace of him anywhere.

I spent a few minutes just collecting my thoughts, and figured it was time to leave. I didn’t want my mother to add another year to my sentence. I was just stepping through the bushes when I heard footsteps coming my way. It would be useless to try to hide at this point, so I just stood there. And what do you know, Weirdo was standing before me, with a handful of paintings.
I stood there completely motionless, hardly breathing for just a moment. It was hard seeing him again, knowing everything wasn’t the same between us. I just wanted some sort of sign, telling me that the person I met at the beach was still there. That he wasn’t completely gone. And for a brief moment, I got a glimpse of him. Just the slightest hint of the guy from the cave, who had a painting of me, staring at all of Hawaii.

“I didn’t know you were here.” He said quietly. He avoided meeting my gaze. I backed up against a tree just looking at him. I wasn’t ready to talk just yet.

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Where have you been?” Keanu glanced at my face for just a second, before he returned his gaze to his feet.

“Grounded,” I said with a small voice.

 I couldn’t help but picture him with Phoebe every time I saw him. Was this some sort of punishment? And what was this uncomfortable feeling in my chest? Almost like a heavy weight pressing against me.

He set the paintings down and walked slowly over to me, coming to a stop right in front of me. I could feel the warmth emanating off of him. He brought his hand to my face, holding it with care, as if it were made of porcelain. His eyes met mine and I was drawn in, all the futile attempts to think clearly were out the window now.

His eyes had an almost daring look, almost daring me to touch or kiss him. To make some kind of contact with him. But I couldn’t move. I was frozen, anchored by him. He was dangerously close now, leaning into my ear. My breathing was becoming fast, short breaths.

“Come with me?” He whispered.

 His breath kissed my skin, making me shiver. I nodded faintly just catching my breath when he pulled away. I could think a little more clearly once he removed his hand from my face. Confusion, hurt and anxiety coursed through me. Confusion because I couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation for saying I’d go with him into the cave. Other than he simply wanted me to. Hurt, because he was probably toying with my feelings again. And Anxious because I wanted to know everything. I wanted answers and this may be the only time I ever get a chance to get them.

He picked up the paintings and walked in pausing for me to catch up. I hesitated a moment longer, finally deciding that I was going to make the most of this opportunity. Once we got in, I watched him place the paintings in different spots all around the cave. He was just so hot. It was hard to look away.


“Are you going to stand there all day? Come here”. He called over his shoulder. I walked the short distance slowly, hesitating because nothing good could possibly come from this. Me and him being together. Alone. In a small confined space. He grabbed my hand, making me gasp and he pulled me closer gesturing over to the painting he had in front of him.

I looked up at him, trying to see why he really brought me here. Trying to see if I could make any sense out of this. But that look, the one that penetrated right through me, making me almost fall to my knees was there. Willing me to turn around.

I turned to look at the painting and it was one of me sitting at the burger place. Everyone was laughing and smiling around me. I was the only one lost. With the sadness etched in my eyes. I looked completely vulnerable, with my eyes cast down. A tear drop threatening to fall. And the only person looking at me is him, with his famous brooding, studying gaze. He was looking at me, one hand looking as if it was deciding to reach over the table to grasp mine. And the other, secured by Phoebe’s.

It was all too much. The heaving feeling was back and I was struggling to breathe. Why was he showing me this? His hands came around my waist, fitting perfectly. Like it was meant to be there.

“I’m sorry, Ava. I’m so sorry.” He said.

“I didn’t realize I could do that to someone.” He said, his arms tightening slightly. The hurt was almost too much to bear. I had to stifle a gasp.

“Tell me how to make this, us, right again.” He pleaded.

 I said nothing and when he got tired of waiting for me to speak, he turned me around. I couldn’t meet his eyes, not when mine were filled with tears that were threatening to spill over. He pulled my chin up, and forced me to look at him.

“Say something.” He whispered. I finally looked into his eyes, hoping I wouldn’t see the guilt. But it was there.

“What do you want me to say?” I said in almost a monotone. There was no life in my voice. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He almost begged.

“I shouldn’t be here, Phoebe will come looking for you.” I didn’t meet his eyes.

“Phoebe can wait damn it!” He nearly shouted.

“How did you two end up…” I trailed off. This was my chance. No matter how much it hurt, it was my chance to get my answers. And why was I being so dramatic? Ugh this guy was going to kill me, I swear.

He released his hold and let me sit down. He came to sit right beside me, giving me a little space.

“Phoebe and I met on the night of the fire.” He said, while pausing to read my expression.

 “I was at the surf shop, a couple hours before the whole thing, and I was waiting for this guy, Jon to come over. We used to hang together.”

“She came into the shop, asking for my mom. I didn’t know my parents knew her family. I found out later that her mother and my mother were best friends in college. Anyway, she asked and I told her they were out, and she just burst out crying. I didn’t know what to do, seeing as I never dealt with anything like that before. So I asked her what was wrong, and she told me she found out her mother died in a car crash, on her way here. My mother was the only person she could talk to.” I suddenly felt ashamed of the things I thought of her. I didn’t know what it was like to lose a mother. Even though I didn’t have the best relationship with mine, she was still here.

“How did the fire happen?” I asked him slowly, changing the subject. I didn’t want to push anything. But I had to know.

“I used to hang out with these guys, and they didn’t like the idea of change.” He said simply. He glanced at the pool for a second, the light illuminating his face.

“I wanted to make things right with my family, again. I was doing it for my mom. She wanted me to have so much. Basically everything that she never had, and I was throwing it all away because I couldn’t get along with my dad. So I was telling the guys that I was ready to give it all up. The stealing, smoking, and the gambling. All of it.”

“Jay was his name. He couldn’t stand to have his name ruined by someone who was willing to fall out. To change for something like school. A person who actually wanted a future that was something more than stealing for a living.” He paused to play with a piece of string hanging from his clothing.

 And he looked back at me and said, “So he set the place on fire. Out of anger I guess.”

“I was coming home from Sam’s house, when I heard the glass popping and saw the smoke rising. Black and thick into the sky. I could just make out their screams. And I swear there is nothing more haunting than hearing your parents scream for their lives.”

He was crying now, the silent tears spilling out of his eyes. He was staring off, as if he were back at his parents shop, reliving the entire thing. I pulled him to lie down, his head on my lap. I stroked his face, to calm him down, and when he was calm enough, he continued.

“I ran back into the shop, with the smoke burning my eyes, and a rag over my mouth. I don’t know what I was expecting to find, other than ashes and my parents’ bodies. I guess I was hoping to see at least one of them alive. To save them.”

This was the hardest thing to listen to. I guess I asked for it. I mean, I wanted to know in the first place. I looked down at him, the mystery of this man’s life unfolding before my eyes. And I realized, I could never hate him. Never.