Vintage Love

Chapter 11

The lingering aroma of the ocean breeze fills the air, accompanied by the prickling sensation of the cold September wind against my skin. The memory of the laboratory's scent still lingers in my nostrils. The night is tranquil yet vibrant enough for the ocean to engage in a rhythmic dance with the chilly gusts.

There I stand, positioned close enough for the water to touch my bare feet, yet far enough to remain on the dry, crystalline sand. My shirt clings to my skin, inadequate to shield me from the cold, as I embrace myself within the darkness. My bike rests far from the ocean and it waits for my return. 

It's yet another night of thoughts, another night spent meditating on the burden of perfectionism.

"As long as I'm perfect?" I murmur to myself, my gaze fixed upon the moon above. A hollow sensation fills me as my thoughts become entangled. 

Letting out a deep sigh, a low rumble reaches my ears. I turn my head to witness a Mustang parking alongside my motorcycle. I avert my gaze from the sound, and soon, a warm jacket drapes over my shoulder as a presence settles beside me.

"It's been a while since you came here," Grace says gently as she stares into the sea with me. I remain silent as I stare ahead of me, feeling the calmness in the ocean. It felt like I was in another world. 

The wind has died down, and we gaze out over the ocean, listening to the soft waves crashing against the shore. I turn to her and ask, "Why are you here?" 

She looks at me and replies, "I wanted to apologize for this morning. I figured that I would find you here when I couldn't find you on campus or nearby." 

"You shouldn't have come here," I say bluntly, my eyes fixed on hers. I start to get up from the sand, but before I can leave, she grabs my arm, holding me back. 

"Charlotte," Grace says, tugging me back onto the soft, cold sand. Her gaze remains fixed on me as she pleads with her eyes, "Please, let me explain." 

I scoff slightly as I look at her. "What is there to explain? You made it very clear this morning that you don't know who I am anymore. Am I just another problem for you? I'm sorry I'm not perfect for you, Grace!" 

She presses her lips together, and before she can speak, I continue to look at her. "I'm sorry that my mom had to pass away, and you have to mourn for her. I'm sorry that I can't remember how my mother passed away." 

"Charlotte," Grace spoke up, her eyes softening. "I don't expect you to be perfect for me. I'm genuinely sorry about this morning; I was overwhelmed by so many things, and I'm afraid that..."

My eyes narrowed as I waited for her to continue, "Afraid of what?"

"That you might lose yourself," she says softly, her gaze drifting away from mine, fixating on the night sea. I chuckle softly, "What do you mean?"

"Losing yourself, transforming into someone you're not, someone you may not want to be," Grace says hesitantly, leaving me puzzled. 

"What's you're point here?" I inquire. She grasps my arm and turns it, revealing the fresh needle mark on my skin from today. She says, "You saw him today." 

"What you're point here?" I ask her, she grabs my arm and turns it to reveal the fresh new needle on my skin from today. She says, "You visited him today." 

"He's my father, Grace," I retort, beginning to feel annoyed. She looks up at me, "Does it still hurt?"

I shake my head, and she pats me on the head like a child, but I pull away. "At least it doesn't hurt, so I'm glad. Did your father mention anything today?" 

I shrug, "The usual." 

"That you're his perfect child?" She questions me, and I nod. "Is that the reason why you came here today?" 

My gaze shifted to the sand as my fingers grasped it, some grains escaping my grasp. "He tells me that every time I meet him. Whenever I go to see him, it feels like I'm a little kid again. He's like the switch of my life, on and off, making me want to blame him for what happened to my little sister. However, whenever I see him, I can tell that he's trying to save my little brother." 

Grace's hands hover over mine as she grabs my hand and lets the sand fall through my fingers. "Do you think you're perfect?"

"I have to be, and I am perfect," I reply confidently. "When you're perfect, you can assert dominance over others because you know they're not perfect." 

She let out a sigh. "Charlotte, that sounds awful." 

My hand reaches out for more sand. "But it's true. Being perfect means you can achieve whatever you want so much more easily." 

"What does perfection mean to you?" Grace asks, trying to get the sand off my hands again. "How do you know that you're perfect?" 

Once again, I let the sand slip through my fingers. The wind started to pick up and I shivered in response. "I know I'm perfect because I'm Charlotte Wu."

She remains silent after my response, then stands up and reaches out for me. I take her hand and stand up as well. 

"Let's go back to our place; it's getting chilly," Grace says. We head back to our vehicle. Then I hop onto my vehicle, and Grace asks, "What happened to your white jacket?" 

I turn to her, initially confused before processing what she means. When I figure it out, I chuckle, "A feisty blonde has it." 

She looks at me, puzzled, and I grin at her before putting on my helmet. Finally, I give her a playful salute before driving back to our place first. Once in a while, I made sure the necklace was still around my neck. 

I am Charlotte Wu.