Rayne

Chapter 2

The rest of the day seemed to pass in the same manner. Enter classroom, find seat, listen to teacher, pack up and then leave. I met Ashlee at the same tables at lunch, however the student from earlier wasn't there. I didn't bring them up to Ashlee; instead we focused on our classes, weekend plans and events later on in the year.

Slowly the school emptied out, students piling into cars parked out front, others walked down the road and others ran to catch the bus. I waved goodbye to Ashlee, Cassie and Stacy as they piled into a rather new looking car and drove away.

I sat by the entrance to the school, waiting for the familiar grey car to pull up. Then, I saw him. The student from earlier. How did I know it was him? Something pulled at my insides, my eyes automatically turned in his direction and I had to stifle a jaw drop. He couldn't have been more than fifteen years old the poor kid.

But what made my head race was I recognized the student walking behind him. She a tall well-dressed girl. If I was to guess I'd say maybe my age; or possibly even a little younger. She was the one who kicked the ground. They walked together and waited for a blue car to pull up.

As the girl got into the car, the boy turned and in a fraction of a second, his eyes connected with mine. Heat filled my cheeks as I looked away in embarrassment but I knew he caught me staring.

God Rayne, why do you have to make everything embarrassing? They both climbed into the car and drove away, while I stared on as their tires picked up mud.

"Hey fish!" The familiar deep voice sent forced a smile to creep on my face. I couldn't deny the childish nickname that still continued to make me giddy felt right. The grey van pulled up to the front, and I almost ran to jump inside.

"Hey papa!" My dad wore a very, very stylish grey vest with a long sleeved shirt underneath. I could see he was wearing his purple palm tree shorts and a pair of sneakers. "You out fishing?"

"Nope, heading out now. Want to come or do you want to be dropped of home?" We pulled away and the smell of fish and bait sent me back many years. The idea of going home alone didn't quite sit with me, so I agreed to go with him even though the sky didn't look too friendly. This was the best time to go fishing.

"How was school?"

I shrugged, telling him about the rather boring day as we pulled out onto the main road. I included the three girls and my feelings towards them. Dad smiled but didn't interrupt, being polite as always. He told me last night that I'll make new friends, just like I did when I was a child. However, as I recalled the day's events I made sure to leave out the boy who was crying. I felt awful leaving him out there in the rain. But then I knew that my actions wouldn't change if I was to be back there, watching him. I feel like a coward admitting that, but it was the truth. And mum wanted me to stay truthful. Our talk continued for the hours trip down south, winding through the hills and down freeways. When we had exhausted the topic, a song would come on the radio and we would sing along before finding something new to talk about.

The water was cold. Chilling. And yet, soothing. Its blend of ripples, bubbles and current caressed my skin, brushing my eyelashes as I resurfaced. Air filled my lungs and I rubbed the water from my eyes. I heard laughter from across the water.

"I swear you're a heart attack, fish." I giggled, gently breast stroking towards the boat where my father sat. The fishing line long wound up and a small white bucket holding a lone capture. An over sized obnoxious fishing hat rested over his eyes. His once white skin now tinged red from the non-existent sun hiding behind the clouds. "You were down there for a good two minutes, you know."

"Nice to see your concern for me is within your comfort levels." One eye peeked open from under the hat and his face broke out into a smile. My father seemed most at peace out here. This rather large lake running down from the mountains and mostly out to the sea seemed to bring a peace of mind to him. Maybe he remembers the times when I was a little girl and I would rush out to the lake on a hot summers day, licking an ice cream off my fingers and singing campfire songs as the sun set behind the mountain tops. My mother's voice would be the soft tune, hidden in the background until the emotions grew and grew; before turning into a full blown swarm of rough energy. I remember those nights well. I believe we all remember those nights well.

"Shouldn't we head home now fish? Tis' getting late." We both looked to the sky, and I sighed in defeat. The blackened clouds seemed less enjoyable than what they were an hour or so ago. I slowly made my way to the shore line. I could feel the rocks and stones slowly turn to pebbles and then soft mud and sand as the shore grew closer.

The air was chilly and I quickly hobbled across the sand to where I had dumped my clothes, grabbing a towel and wrapped it around my shivering body. By the time my father had brought in the boat, and docked it close to the shack I had stripped myself of my wet underwear and had redressed. The sky had darkened dramatically and the cold breeze was sending shivers down my back.

I helped my dad pack the fishing rods into the car, securing the white bucket on the back seat before climbing back into the front seat and blasting the heater.

"It's getting chilly. Isn't it supposed to be spring?" I laughed to no one.

"Yes, but we still have the rains coming. Just a few weeks of crappy weather. But soon summer will come and we will be sipping juice by the river, catching fish left, right and centre." I looked at my father as he winked at me.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't like summer though. Autumn is the best. Fallen leaves, hot chocolates with mini marshmallows." I sighed and sank lower in the chair, old memories swarming to the surface like bubbles in a pot. I could practically feel the warmth of the fire against my skin, engulfing me in its friendly embrace.

Dad remained silent throughout the remainder of the ride, the silence broken by the tunes on the radio.

We arrived home rather later than expected. The house was cold and stale; only having life when someone walked within its walls. I remember looking at my house like the kids from Monster House. Afraid, alone and terrified of the life I had left behind. But just as the old men from the movie came to leave his wife and start fresh, I did too. Mum would make snickerdoodle cookies every Tuesday for the kids in day-care and pretty soon I had a few friends who would call me snickerdoodle. Once my parents decided on home schooling I lost them. Being a little kid I had no idea how to stay in contact. So I turned to the house. Decorating every room, every corner with anything I could find; Flowers, leaves, toys and scribbles of figures labelled 'mother' and 'father' littered the rooms during my free time. The house had been given new life when we moved in. But over time even that new life had slowly ceased.

I didn't know why that past memory of the scary movie came to my mind as I walked through the front door and I brushed it off with a smile as I helped my dad bring the fish into the kitchen. Within the hour, a steaming plate of fish and lime sat on the counter and we were tucking into a homemade version of fish and chips.

By the time my head hit the pillows I was knackered. I sighed and rolled deeper into the blankets of heaven. I tried not to think about tomorrow. Tomorrow was yet to come and Ill tackle it when it arrives.