Stranded | ✓

four

Unexpectedly, anger courses through my veins. Like the drunk kind of anger. The kind of anger that made you spit out things that you had never meant to utter out loud. I couldn't stop myself. I was drunk off of tears and heartbreak.

"You're right, I'm not okay!" I spat. "You wanna know why? Because all of the people closest to me hid something so big from me for four fucking years! And none of you were even planning on telling me, were you?"

"Rory, we didn't tell you because we knew you would get this mad." He said calmly, looking at me with cautious eyes.

I clenched my fists. "I wouldn't have. At least not this mad. I'm mad for other reasons."

Don't say it. Don't say it.

"What? So you're not mad that your aunt—"

"Beck, I fucking loved you. I still do. That's why I'm mad. I went through all of that unexplained heartbreak without so much as a word from you. One day we were best friends and the next you were putting gum in my hair."

And there it goes.

Beck didn't say anything. My stomach dropped. I swallowed hard, looking down at the sand. Beck still remained silent.

"I-I shouldn't have said that," I mumbled, my voice cracking. The tears resumed, falling down my cheeks again. "I'm just—I need some time alone. Please don't follow me."

I hastily pushed myself off of the sand and rushed off in the opposite direction of our makeshift campsite. I protectively wrapped my arms around myself. My body started to shake from the sobs threatening to leave my body.

I walked until I couldn't walk any further, then sat back in the sand. I just wanted to go home. All I wanted was to lay in bed under all of my thick blankets with a bag of candy and nurse this broken heart just like I had over the past four years.

But I had no choice but to stay here.

Eventually I started to get tired and my eyes started to droop. I took off my jacket and balled it up, putting it on the sand before laying my head on it. If I was back at camp, I could've used my backpack to lay on, but this would have to do.

I curled into a ball to stay warm and shut my eyes. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore helped to lull me to sleep.

•••••

When I woke up, the sun was shining bright. There was still a slight chill in the air, a sign that it was early in the morning.

I quickly took notice of the large jacket wrapped around me, and then the body sprawled out on the sand a couple feet away from me, surrounded by our stuff.

Beck was laying on his stomach, his arms underneath his head that was turned to me. His eyes were shut, his long lashes casting a barely noticeable shadow on his cheeks. His lips were slightly parted, his back slowly rising and falling with each breath.

I took a couple moments to just look at him.

I knew he didn't love me back. Why would he? If he had, surely sometime in the past four years he would've said something. Something would have happened. It felt like my heart was broken all over again.

Wanting all of my emotions to stop wreaking havoc on my mind, I got up, walking to the edge of the water and sitting down. I didn't care if the ocean water soaked me. I had clothes to change into.

I shut my eyes, allowing the sound of the waves and the sound of early morning nature to relax my body. The warm water brushed the skin of my thighs. I sighed softly.

I heard Beck stir behind me.

I ignored him. Just like I did for the rest of the day. And the day after that.

The only communication that Beck and I held was him asking me if I was hungry. I was quickly getting tired of fish, but we had nothing else to eat.

It was currently evening time. Beck was sitting by the fire, drawing meaningless patterns in the sand while I was standing ankle deep in the water, looking out at the moon shining on the water.

I really hoped that they would come back for us soon. All of this mental stress and heartbreak was starting to take a toll on me.