The Feel of Water

Eight - She's Not Here

Becca grabs me tighter. "What was that?" She questions.

My eyes are glued on the hallway. Something shattered in the kitchen. Suddenly voices clog up and Sean comes down the hall with a straight face, a face telling me that he's holding back. Two guys follow after him, but he brushes them off.

He notices me and says, "Dani, come on," as he walks by.

"Dani, no. You've been drinking. You're not in the right mind," Becca says. "Come on, let me take you home. You can see Sean at school."

I watch eagerly as he walks out the door. "I want to go with him," I breathe. "I really want to."

"Dani. Listen to me. Guys like Sean only want one thing."

"I don't care," I murmur. "Becca. Becca, I have to go with him."

"What? Why? Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?" She asks, genuinely taken-back. "How much did you drink?"

"I have to live. I want to live."

I free myself from Becca's hold and quickly push through the few people blocking my way. I hear her yell after me, but I can't help it. The night air envelopes me, and I catch Sean getting into his truck. He looks over and our eyes connect. I hardly tear them away as I hurry down the porch steps.

"Where are you going?" I call to him. He closes the car door and nods with his head, nodding for me to get in.

On a limb, I make my way to the other side and I climb in the passenger seat. Once my door closes, he says, "I need to get away. Just for a few minutes."

"Can you drive? Is this safe?"

"I had a beer. You coming along for the ride?"

I know people are watching us, but in my head, I block them out. "You want me to?"

Sean buckles in, so I do the same. He pulls out of the driveway, mindful of the many cars parked along the curb, and makes his way out of the neighborhood. I simply observe until a question returns to me.

"What happened?"

"Jen showed up," he says.

"Oh."

I feel like I'm losing my mojo. Before he was drinking up anything I said, but now I'm competing with his thoughts.

"Where are we going?"

Sean stays silent, but we end up at the beach. He parks in a barren lot then walks until the cement is replaced by sand. I follow along, stumbling once or twice, but ultimately keeping my composure.

Sean walks toward the water until he's satisfied. After reaching the perfect distance from the stretching waves, he stands and looks out at the blackness. I catch up and stand beside him. "Is this your spot? The place where you go to get away?"

Sean sits down in the sand, knees bent and arms resting on them. I wander closer to the water, not wanting sand in my pants. I make sure to take off my shoes before stepping into the water, or at least to where the waves crawl up to, but the bottom of my jeans get wet. Bending down, I roll them up but lose balance. I fall into my knees and suddenly my shins are soaked and spotted with grains of sand.

"Dani!" Sean calls from further up the beach. "You aren't going swimming!"

I stand up and stare at my hands. All the wrinkles and crevices are stuffed with sand. "The feel of the water," I mumble. "You just feel the water."

Sean comes over and leads me from the water. I peer back at it but move on when he sits me down with him.

"Do you feel better?" I ask.