Hours

33- Friday, May 18th

12:45 PM

We sit on our towels at the shore of the beach, trying to soak up warmth from the rocks. We've both stripped down to our bathing suits that were under our clothes, realizing that it probably would have been a good idea to change before swimming. I'm shivering a little bit from the wind blowing off of the lake, but the sun is keeping me warm.

"So," Asks Micheal, "What's the story with this place?"

"The story?"

"You know," He says, "The significance. The meaning. What made this place jump to mind when you said you wanted to go to the beach? There must be something about it,"

"Oh, right," I say, not sure how much I want to say about it. "Um, well, yeah, I guess there's a story. It's... Well, I don't know, it's kind of dumb," I really don't want to talk about it. Even with Micheal, who I think I can trust. Who I know I can trust. I haven't told anyone about my childhood in a long, long time. And it just brings up memories of when things were easier. When things were nicer. Everyone just seemed to care more back then.

"I'm sure it's not dumb," Micheal reassured me, but I was stuck trying to ignore him.

"I don't know," I say, beginning to wish that he'd just drop it. Micheal stays silent, and I know he's waiting me out to just tell him. "Fine," I groan eventually, hating that I gave up so easily. "This is where my parents brought me on my sixth birthday. Dad woke us up super early and drove all of us all the way up here. We spent the day together. I was happy. It was... magical," I wince as the last word exits my mouth, though I can't help but feel like it's true. It was magical. Especially when I relived it in my dreams.

"That doesn't sound dumb at all," Micheal repeats, looking at me. "That sounds really nice, why would you think that is dumb?"

"I don't know," I say again, "Maybe it's because that's one of the few memories I have where my family feels like a family. And I don't want to admit that..." I sigh, speaking quietly, "That we're not a family."

"You're still a family," Micheal reaches out and touches my arm, "Maybe there's a bit of distance, but you're still a family,"

"Distance?" I echo, "Micheal, it's more than just a distance. My mom can't help but sleep with every man who isn't my father. Every time she leaves the house, that's what she's doing, I know it. And my dad... he's never home! We don't talk, ever, and I can't remember the last time we had a family dinner together." I breathe in deeply, blinking my eyes to try and stop the stinging that I feel. "And maybe I'm acting stupid, but-"

"Why would that be stupid?" Micheal interrupts me.

"Because so many people have it worse off than me. My parents don't love each other? Some people don't have parents! It's just selfish for me to feel this way when..." Realization dawns on me, "Oh, God, Micheal- This must be awful... I'm complaining about both my parents when you-"

Micheal holds up a hand to stop me, shifting so that he's facing me. "Is that what you think?" He asks, not unkindly, just unbelieving. "That because others are worse off, you're not allowed to feel bad?"

"I mean..." I break off as a sharp wind blows over us, making me shiver. Micheal swiftly takes off his own towel and gives it to me, without hesitation. I smile briefly at him before continuing to speak, "It's true. I'm so goddamned lucky, why should I..." I look down, not wanting to meet Micheal's eyes.

"That's not how it works," Micheal says quietly, surprising me. "You can't fault yourself for feeling things, even if you feel like you don't 'deserve' to be feeling that way. You can't control your emotions, and it's unfair for others to assume that just because you appear to have a good life, everything is fine. Because sometimes it's not fine at all. And that's okay."

"Really?"

"Of course." Micheal sounds sort of amazed, "Who... who taught you that?" I look at him, and he quickly adds, "If you don't mind me asking, you don't have to tell me of course, that's completely up to you,"

"No, it's fine, it's just... I don't know," I shrug, "My friends?"

"Ashley and Lindsay?"

"Yeah- I mean..." Oh, god. No. "Not... No, not really,"

Jesus, no, I am not going through this with Micheal.

"Not them? Who?" Micheal asks, and I close my eyes, desperately wishing I hadn't said anything.

"No one," I say quickly, laughing with fake enthusiasm.

"Kayla, you can tell me,"

I sigh. There's really no way around it. "When I was younger, I was best friends with this girl, Katrina. We were best friends, we did everything together. Sleepovers, birthday parties... everything. At the end of Grade 8, she told me she was moving. I was so sad, we were both crying, and I told her again and again how much I'd miss her. She promised we would stay in touch. She promised that we'd hang out every time she was in the city. She promised that we'd stay friends.

"And then that summer she ignored all of my texts. She blocked my calls, she never responded to anything I sent her. As it turns out, she didn't move at all; she went to our high school for all of Grade 9 and 10. Ironically, after that, she did end up moving. Bu... she just told me that she was back then so I would leave her alone. I was annoying, apparently. I was 'too much'. And I guess I complained too much because the only things ever said to me in high school was, 'Grow up, Kayla- some people have it so much worse than you and you don't hear them complaining.'" I take a deep breath, stunned at saying it out loud. I never have. I've never told anyone about Katrina. "I guess I just... kept that in mind."

"Kayla..." Micheal says, and I hate the pity in his voice and the sympathy in his eyes.

"I'm fine," I say, probably a little too harshly. "I mean... It's not a big deal."

Micheal looks at me doubtfully before saying, "It seems like one. And that's okay. Look, I hate to say this, but I really don't think that Katrina was a good friend. I mean, I really think that you deserve better than what she gave you. And, honestly- I'd say the same about Ashley and Lindsay. It's okay to complain about things that are bothering you. It's okay to feel upset, even if you have a pretty good life. That's human; it's what we do. And, honestly, Kayla, if Katrina hasn't realized that, then she's in for a nasty surprise the older she gets."

I look up at him, smiling slightly. "Thanks, Micheal. That... that means a lot,"

"Of course," He says, just as another family arrives at the beach. A dog comes rushing towards us, and practically jumps on Micheal before the owner calls it away. He waves it off, smiling, then turns back to me.

I can feel the grin on my face.