Clementine had become a wild child. Born in America but raised abroad, she now had little regard for the expectations of high society. But her reckless ways eventually catch up with her when she is kicked out of college in New York City and forced t...
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21
Clementine lay on her back in the water, letting the sun scorch her skin. She did't care. She needed something that would act physically upon her with as much power as what was happening inside her. And this meeting with Adam didn't help.
It was like bringing her closer to him, without actually getting her near to him. Like trying to grab a sun ray, a reflection on the water, for it to disappear just when you think you got it.
There was a couple swimming beside her. Older, middle aged and they looked so in love that Clementine felt a pang of jealousy. Here she was, still alone, after everything.
She floated in the water, not too far offshore, but far enough to feel that she had distance.
She looked around and saw a couple of girlfriends by the shore, just wading in the water and drinking.
She missed female companionship, but maybe what she really needed was a drink.
After a few laps, she went back onto the shore and there was somehow a waiter there already, seemingly waiting to take her order.
She tasked him, in her butchered Portuguese, for something light and fruity.
He nodded, and left.
She then letdown on the sand on her back, craving a deeper connection with the Earth. Feeling a need to ground herself.
Sometimes, she would feel like she was out of her body. As if she was floating. Her therapist later called it 'disassociating'. She said it happens to people who have experienced trauma, especially in childhood.
Clementine didn't know what this trauma could have been, but luckily it didn't happen to her as often anymore.
She was only intending to lie there for a moment, closing her eyes, feeling the sun warm her body and taking it in.
But soon enough, she felt a shade block her eyes, and she squinted to see the waiter waiting there with her drink on a tray.
"Oh," she said getting up on her elbows, "thanks."
She finally got to her feet, took the drink - all expenses inside the club included - and made her way back to the beach chairs, where her mother was reapplying sun tan lotion.
"Jésus, Clementine, where were you? I was starting to get worried. Look at you! You're getting burned. And you're drinking...Turn around." Her mother didn't leave much room for Clementine to talk but simply applied lotion on her back. It smelled like coconut, and for a moment Clementine felt safe again.
Having her mother rub her back, had Clementine wash over with a peculiar wave of melancholia. Maybe it was the drink, but it made her feel light and like she didn't exist. All she wanted to do then, was stop doing everything else and curl up into her mother's lap.
"I was just swimming," Clementine said with a smile.
She also wished that she didn't have to lie like this. She wished she could tell her everything, but she knew full well she couldn't.
Settling into the beach chair, she used a large scar to cover her, and drifted off into a day time nap, with the sound of the waves lulling her to sleep.
