Chapter 3: A Chance

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I didn't want to leave the apartment that day. Despite the sun already being high in the sky, the cheerful chatter reaching my open window from down the street, I remained slumped on the window seat. I've spent months not questioning the odd behavior around me, nor my sister's silence. I took it for what it was. 

The world was a strange place and I was a strange girl. I was okay with things that made no sense surrounding me. Everyone felt that way, right? I was open to new experiences, hell, I was the first one in line. I didn't mind the missing pieces inside of me, taking a wild guess that it was normal to feel that way. 

One thing, perhaps, that people didn't know about me was that I didn't remember much about my past. I wasn't running around, always in a hurry. Far from it, actually. I seized moments, I relished in the way the sun felt on my skin. I loved the little, simple moments. 

While everyone around me tried to keep up with a steady and messy schedule, I stood in the back and took in the crowd around me. Elbows pushing into other people's ribs to push them out of the way, snarky comments when the driver in front of them didn't speed up the moment the traffic light turned green. 

I was born and raised in the middle of rush hour and yet, I took my time. I've spent hours upon hours sitting on the beach, toes buried deep in the warm sand and a sketchbook resting against my thighs. I drew everything, from the way the waves crashed against the shore, the kids around throwing a ball at each other, the annoyed mothers, and the laid-back fathers with the third beer in their hands. When the noise became too much, I would stand up and move further down the edge of the sea, until I reached a small corner away from the people but still close enough so the loneliness could not consume me. 

Now that I thought about it, perhaps visiting that very same place didn't sound like the worst idea. I could still be alone with my raging thoughts and yet, feel peaceful. That's what the sea did to me. And maybe that was why it was my favorite place. 

As soon as I reached the hidden gravel path between the patches of tall grass, I kicked off my sneakers. I held a blanket tight in my grip, my sketchbook buried somewhere between the layers of fabric. I kept my eyes on my feet as I took slow steps, trying not to let the small rocks pinch my skin too hard with each step. A small smile rested on my lips as I made my way to my favorite spot. But as soon as I reached the edge, where sand began, I stopped in my tracks. 

"Are you stalking me?" I blurted out, my eyebrows pulled together as I stared at Zach sitting on the beach, his back turned to me. His body shifted and those eyes of his looked over his shoulder, meeting mine in slight surprise. 

"What do you mean? I was here first," he defended himself and shook his head but a mild smile found its way to his lips. 

"Never mind, then. I'll go somewhere else," I said, ready to turn around and walk further down the path in hopes to find a spot just as good as that one. 

"You don't have to go. You can sit here," he then said and I looked at him in slight surprise. "As long as you're not armed with another ice cream, it should be fine." Amusement danced in the multicolored irises and I huffed and brushed my hair behind my ear. I could feel slight embarrassment crawl under my skin, causing my cheeks to turn pinker than they usually were. 

His smile grew. He patted the space next to him and waited for my decision. 

"Uh, okay," I nodded and stepped onto the warm sand before making my way towards him. He turned back to the sea and I spread my blanket over the ground, neatly setting my shoes next to it before I took a seat. I folded my legs underneath me and rested my sketchbook on my lap. 

"I told you we'd run into each other again," he said after a moment of pause. It wasn't until then when I saw a cigarette resting between his calloused digits. He lifted it up and placed it between his lips, the tip burning brighter for a moment as he took a drag then the toxic vapor seeped past his parted brims. 

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