QUICKSAND

REMINISCING

FREYA'S POV

The plane to Florence, Italy has been flying for about 6 hours now but I still couldn't get some sleep. I've watched the same movie twice already so I decided to just shut the small screen off and tried to doze off but Sandman was a bit too elusive. It does not help either that the memories of three years ago had been galloping in my mind like wild horses in the West. I was on a flight to Italy last year and thoughts about what happened did not crawl back as intensely as today. I have not seen him since we kissed that night. Have not heard from him at all. Somehow even if I kept on telling myself that it would be better if he did not show up even for a few days because that way I could gather everything I wanted to say to him, everything he needed to know, a part of my heart still longs to be cloaked in his presence. Looking back at everything that had happened, I thought, would I have done things differently if I knew it would lead to this? Would I have ignored him completely? Be just another guest who would say hi or smile every time I saw him?

PARKER'S POV

I was standing next to the window at training camp. Our team will be camping here for the next two weeks to keep in shape. When I saw that the natural light outside was enough for me to see my way, I decided to go out and do some jogging. For days, I convinced myself that forgetting her is the best thing to do. I would make myself busy in this camp. I'll stay out of her life. But as the days pass, I found myself to be missing her all the more. Besides I would still like to personally apologize for what I did. Her peace of mind was still far more important to me than any of my childish yearnings. She could be in Italy now, I thought. I wondered if she brought Lucas along with her. I shrugged at the idea, loathed it in fact. I was thinking that Italy was our place. Our getaway. Ours. She couldn't have brought anyone else there. She wouldn't. I admitted to myself that Italy was the craziest thing. I have always lived by codes and worked with discipline but at that moment in that place, being with her made me shed the armor I had put on for so long. But now, I felt like I have to put on that armor once more. Should I let her go? Should I put behind Italy for good?

*****FLASHBACK*****

FREYA'S POV

This is my first vacation alone miles and miles away from what's familiar, from people I know. There is no turning back now. I am here. I can do this. I can live for a week without asking any help from anyone I know. I could still hear my sister and my friends in my head "Enjoy this vacation! Do everything you haven't done ever in your life. Don't second guess, just go with the flow and for sure you'll have the best vacation ever."

Their voices, their excitement for my very first vacation alone had been echoing in my mind as the car traveled from Florence to my destination in Impruneta. Signora Carlina was kind enough to send someone to pick me up at the airport. I looked outside the car window and allowed my sense of sight to bathe in the exquisiteness that surrounds me. I have imagined Tuscany's idyllic atmosphere long before I have decided to have some time off from the stress of putting up a business and I must say that the place more than exceeded my expectations. Old houses, pristine villas, vast greenery, vineyards. The sun touches all these without a glitch and I fell in love with the place in an instant. My eyes were tired from the long travel and I was so hoping to rest on my ride to Signora Carlina's villa but I was like a child lost in a store filled with toys. The car was approaching a medium-sized villa with light brown stones for walls. The front yard is bordered with cypress trees and a small fountain rests marvelously at the center. Near the huge arched entrance a woman appeared. She was rushing down the few steps to where the fountain stood. I studied her carefully and she reminded me awfully a lot of Dolores Umbridge from Harry Potter. They have the same height, body type and hair. But as the car moved closer, I realized there were so many things that set this woman apart from Umbridge. She was more tanned, more Italian and a lot more charismatic-looking than the evil Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. When the car pulled over on what seemed to be a circular driveway, the old woman's face was plastered with the most beaming smile. A smile as bright as the sun in the place. I opened the door and stepped out of the car.