Oceans Call

Chapter 1: Macaroni

We made our way out of the tiny grocery store and towards my car. That's right I drove. Despite the fact that I was nearly eighteen, my parents still doubted my driving ability. As soon as the car was parked neatly in the driveway, I leapt out.

I looked up as the familiar howl of my husky cut through the evening breeze, lighting my features with a smile. I ran up to the house and shoved my key into lock twisting it in every possible direction until it finally opened. I stepped in, (more like fell in), bracing myself for the attack I knew awaited me. It came as expected, and I was soaked with slobbery dog kisses from my husky, Breeze.

My mom came in and retreated immediately to the kitchen, where she always went upon arrival. I ran up to my room, taking the steps two at a time. My room smelled the same as always, like the fresh sea. The window was constantly open so I didn't get sick which, I know, makes no sense.

Some people get sea sick because of the rocking waves, but I actually get the opposite. If I can't smell the salt on the breeze, or feel the oceans wind tousling my hair, then I'll get horrible headaches or muscle pains. This has been going on since my birth mother abandoned me in the warm sand by the sea, where I had no choice but to hear the crashing song of its waves and the gentle lullaby of its winds. That's right, I'm a mystery science can't explain.

I was going to read, but decided against it. Instead making my way back to the kitchen and plopping down at the counter, reaching for an apple. The sweet juices burst in my mouth like erupting volcanoes with every bite. 

"Who wants macaroni?!" My mother cried as my father walked into the room. He nodded eagerly and retrieved the supplies, preparing the food before my mother could blink. "I think that's a wonderful idea!" He said happily, pouring the uncooked noddles in a pot of water.

Once I finished my snack, I rushed up the steps to my room and prepared for my evening visit to the beach. I changed into a swimsuit and pulled my golden hair back in a tight braid. My sea green eyes glinted back at me as I checked my appearance in the mirror. My feet sank into my worn, molded flip flops and grabbed my beach bag and surf board as I walked out the door.

"Going out!" I cried as I opened the front door. Breeze jumped at me, begging for a walk. She too felt the ocean tugging her nearer despite California's pummeling heat. "Do you have your key?" My mother's singsong voice rang clearly to my ears just before I closed the door. I slammed all my weight on it just before it closed.

Grabbing my keys from the table by the door, I hollered, "I do now! See ya later!"

I stepped on the sun-warmed sand and kicked off my flip flops so I could sink my feet in. The familiar aroma of salt greeted me on a nearby wind, and I couldn't help but grin. I set off to my favorite place on that beach: a small rocky cave. My parents had taken me when I was seven years old and since then, I'd come at least once every day. The beach was my home. It called me to it and only I seemed to understand its songs.

I was snapped out of my deep thoughts by the sound of people shouting my name. "Melody! Sorry we're late. My parents made me do a bunch of chores and stuff so I was late picking up the others," my friend, Sarah, explained in a rush. I was about to ask why she would be so late if she could just walk, when I remembered - a little guiltily - how far away she lived.

I turned to look out at the distant waves and said, "It's ok that you're late. The waves aren't ready for us yet." She groaned. The waves suitable for surfing were too far out so we would have to wait at least an hour to surf. She turned to me again. "You're right, as always. What should we do while we wait?" 

                            ~*~*~*~

We arrived at the tiny ice cream shop. As usual, it had been Joey's idea to go there. The ice cream parlor was conveniently close to the ocean, ensuring that we were regular visitors. I glanced at the sign on the door which read: Wave Whip, the name of the shop. 

As soon as we stepped inside, we were greeted by the store owner, Mr. Marcus. He was short and plump, with a welcoming grin and cheerful demeanor. "Old friends! It has been too long since you had my refreshing ice cream! Don't tell me you've been visiting another ice cream shop?" He raised an eyebrow accusingly then added, "Mine is the best in town!"

Sarah smiled, her brown bob bouncing. She was small and petite, with light green eyes, a radiant smile, and creamy skin despite the sun's beating rays. Her pink bikini was hidden by a white cover-up with pink polka-dots. She looked the part of stereotypical high schooler everywhere she went. We ordered and I smiled as I surveyed everyone's ice cream order. The menu was vast, yet we always got the same things.

Joey had picked chocolate fudge explosion, and Sarah got bubble gum. I curled my lip at her choice and thought, Bubble gum is the worst flavor you could pick... The ice cream I picked was refreshing and light. It tasted like lime but was pale blue, not green. When we returned to the beach, the sun had begun its slow descent, painting the water luminous gold.

I picked up my white board and traced the pale blue and soft pink Hawaiian flowers that lined its edges, matching my swim suit. I brought my gaze back to the ocean surrounding me like a comforting mother's arms. It was time. I rushed to the water's edge and let the tiny waves lap over my feet. I jogged further out until the waves licked my waist, then I heaved myself on my board and lunged out further in the water. I lay on the board, using my arms to drag myself out into the deeper water. A wave appeared a few feet in front of me and I watched it rise as I swam ever so nearer. I felt myself climb up higher on the wave and, planting my feet firmly on the board, began to stand, sticking out my arms for balance. I found myself at the peak of the wave and watched as it crested over then began to collapse. I lay on my board again and glided away just in time to miss the waves wrath.

I walked back home several hours later, and jammed my key in the lock, twisting it every which way, as usual. When it finally opened, I stepped inside, not surprised that my parents had gone to bed. The kitchen was perfectly clean, it's mellow yellow walls gleaming in the moonlight streaming from the windows. I searched the counter for a note, but found only a lone bowl of macaroni. Steam still wafted from it; liquid gold drizzled on top creating a tantalizing aroma. I downed it quickly then rushed up to my room, and sank into my heavenly bed, breathing in the salty sea breeze.

~*~*~*~

A/N
I hope that the editing I did recently helped with the flow (get it? flow? :D) of this chapter. I had help, (cough, cough dad;)), with finding some choppy parts and errors. :) Thanks for reading!
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