teapot flowers

part 7

Olivia Walters, waiting at the beach.

I left detention and walked down the hall. I couldn't help but give a little chuckle at the thought of James and that book. "Do you think this is a joke?" Ms.Cruz asked me seriously. It took me by surprise as I had almost forgotten she was there, but I got myself in control fast enough.

 "Oh, I'm sorry, Ms.Cruz, I didn't mean to laugh. But you see, when you came in like that so boldly it reminded me of my late grandmother, rest her soul, and once she told me 'Cricket' - that's what my grandparents use to call me -, 'cricket, now don't you cry when I am gone, and anytime you think of me just give a little smile and a laugh 'cause that's what I loved to see the most." I said, thinking on my feet.

 After this speech Ms. Cruz turned away for a second and tried not to let me see her wipe a tear from her eye, then patted me on the back, saying "you are such a strong young lady." She was so busy with her own thoughts that she didn't speak but I didn't mind. I had my own thoughts that filled my head and we walked down the hall in silence.

Again, what I said was not really a lie as they were all true events. Just the question of how recently it happened is a bit skewed.... You might not believe me but I don't normally behave this way. I really hate lying because one lie gives birth to another and each one gets bigger than the last. Ever since going to this school I have been so desperate to fit in. I know it's not a good excuse but I never was in one place long enough for them to get to know me. It made it hard for me to open up to people knowing that I might be gone next week. I eventually told myself it wasn't worth trying to make friendships or even letting people get to know me. Sometimes it's so hard I don't know what to do, this being here in this school while knowing that if I make a mistake I will have to live up to it. There will be no leaving next week, I am here to stay.

I didn't have to wait long for my bus. I quickly hopped on and swiped my school bus pass, then found a seat way in the back. The bus bounced with every pothole in the road; it was the bus that ran along the beaches near my house. I waited until it passed my house and then got out at the beach right next to mine. It was right next to the metro station where I had met James in the first place. 'And if I am not mistaken it's also only one station over to the beach house in James's picture,' I thought to myself.

I took my shoes off and I walked down the beach, which was almost empty. I sat right where I knew the wave would stop and looked at his wallet one more time for old time's sake.

I blushed slightly, thinking about the book I left a note in. It was so impulsive, to take and write in one of Mr. Cortez's prized books right under his nose. What if James doesn't erase my note? Or what if he leaves it and doesn't even look inside? What if he rats on me? "Stupid, stupid Olivia," I muttered to myself, slamming my head into my knees. Ahhh well, nothing I can do now, I thought with a sigh. I looked up at the waves as they rolled and stopped only two feet away from my bare feet.

The note I had written was the following: "Hey blondie, if you ever want to see your wallet again, meet me at the beach near the station where we first met. I'll be waiting for you at post 18. P.s. you owe me. - sincerely, special agent Walters " and near the end added a little drawing of a little person holding a spy pose.

Sitting and waiting on the beach I had nothing to do but watch the current and think about how dorky that note must have sounded. What was wrong with me? I could always blame it on a heat stroke, I suppose.

But before I had time to think of a better excuse I heard a voice call, "hey miss." At first, I thought it was James finally coming from detention, but to my surprise, I looked up to see a middle-aged man dressed for the beach towering over me. I immediately stood and my whole body tensed up. "Miss, are you all alone on such a pretty night?" The man smiled a charming and snake-like smile. He was obviously drunk. "Umm... I..." I stammered, backing away a step as he inched just a bit closer. "Awww, what a shame, come and join me and my friends.'' He lifted his hand and pointed in the direction of a group of men in fold-out chairs around an ice cooler. "Oh, no thank you, I am with my boyfriend; he just left to get a bottle of water. He will be back any second," I said, forcing a small grin.

But the man did not like my answer. He took a step closer and I backed up a little more, but the splash of the water on my ankles stopped me from going any further. "I have been watching you for a while, and you have been alone since you got here," he said with a sour look on his face. "Oh you see-" I started to say

"I don't like liars," he interrupted. "You think you're too good for us?" He leaned in, his breath reeking of alcohol. He lifted one hand and caressed a few strands of my hair. I felt sick to my stomach but I just stood there, frozen with fear. What the heck was wrong with me? Normally I could come up with a clever solution but this time I couldn't even move let alone think on my feet. I tried to call out but just like in my dream that morning, nothing came out. What do I do?

"Olivia!" A voice called out, like an angel to save me. Both the man and I turned our heads to see who it was. I let out a breath of relief and my whole body relaxed: I felt safe.

"Hey, sorry I am late," James said as he jogged up next to me with a smile. I must have still been a little distraught because James' eyebrows furrowed when he got a look at my expression. James looked at the man from head to toe, then looked back to me. "Well," he said, picking up my shoes and gently taking my arm to lead me, "Shall we go?" He asked with a reassuring smile. "What's this? Some gringo has come to take my girl away?" The man said angrily. "Well you can't have her, see I saw her first."

"Ahh, but did you already call bagsy?" James asked as he stepped in front of me. "Bagsy? What's that?" the guy said, looking confused. "You see," he said, putting his arm around the man and walking him back to his friends, "it's a British thing. It's a much stronger claim than just seeing her first. And since I already called Bagsy, there is nothing I can do for you, sir." James said, patting the man's back. I followed a few steps behind them. The man was still confused but he went along with it for a while. "Wait, but we aren't in England!" He said, stopping in his tracks. "Very true, sir, but the rules still apply, the one who calls it first and all that," he said, putting up his arm trying to lead him again. But the man blocked it this time and put his own arm on James' shoulder, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Just how long have you, have you, called baggie on her?" It was not really a whisper; it was quite loud, but James just graciously led him by the arm again and whispered something back, but it was too quiet for me to catch. Then one of the other men from his group ran up to meet us and apologized for his buddy and took him away. I looked down at my feet and kicked the sand around. Even though I felt safe since James had come, that sick feeling still sat on my stomach and I couldn't stop my body from gently shaking. I didn't say anything because I was afraid that if he asked any questions I would cry, so I kept my head down and kept moving the rough sand around. Two feet stepped right in my sight and I looked up with a worried expression, not really sure what he was going to say. "let's get you home." He said with a gentle smile. 

end of part 7

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