Chapter Three

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Chapter Three

At six pm, I was downstairs waiting with Sam at the table. Mom and Grandpa had decided on a leisurely dinner, spaghetti. I sighed as I looked around at the food on the table. Sam and Grandpa put a considerable helping of the carb-loaded meal onto their plate. Mom put a portion of spaghetti on her own plate.

I reached out to grab the serving spoon and put some spaghetti in the center of my plate. My stomach rumbled, desperate for some sustenance. However, as soon as I looked down at the noodles coated in a thick red sauce, my throat began to close. I picked up my glass of water, taking several large gulps.

It became pitifully obvious during dinner why I was so skeletal. I played with the food on my plate, cutting each piece of spaghetti into small pieces. Then, I trailed the spaghetti from one end of the plate to the other. I did put about five pieces of pasta into my mouth. It was a minuscule amount due to the size of the pasta by the time I had shredded the wheat product. After dinner, I scraped the shredded remains of dinner into the trash.

Sam turned on Grandpa's large stereo. Then he cranked up the volume while letting the greatest hits of the 80s play throughout the house. I winced as the sound was deafening. It was almost hard to hear oneself think. My Mom and I cleaned up everything after dinner, and then she told me to get ready.

I went up the stairs to find my best jeans. I paired that with a band t-shirt and an oversized sweater before grabbing my worn brown boots. I slipped those on and grabbed my messenger bag, which held my journal and Anna Karenina.

After I had brushed my teeth, I brushed my hair, leaving it down. It was long - reaching mid back at this point. Usually, I cut it to chin length by now, but this time, I wanted to try a new look. I grabbed my messenger bag and went down the stairs. I still had about thirty minutes before Mom wanted to leave for the Boardwalk.

I noticed that Grandpa was walking towards the stables. I set my bag down on the porch and followed him, quiet in my steps and voice. Grandpa didn't realize I was following behind him until he entered the feed/tack room. When he turned around to grab buckets, Grandpa jumped. He was startled at my presence.

"Quiet one, eh?" Grandpa shook his head, trying to get his heart rate under control. Used to being the hunter, not the hunted. "I need to brush them all down. Do you want to help?

Wordlessly, I reached out a thin hand for the grooming bucket Grandpa offered. He led me to the three stalls where the horses were kept overnight. Grandpa explained the different tools and patiently taught me how to brush the horse's coat.

As I brushed the horses free of all dirt, I relaxed around the massive creatures. I became more confident in my strokes and less hesitant to brush the beautiful and majestic animals. As I relaxed, I no longer shied away from their actions. One of the grey horses nuzzled my neck with their velvety feeling muzzle. It made me giggle. When we finished brushing all three horses until their coats shone, Grandpa and I put the tools away.

"If you'd like, I can teach you how to ride a horse," Grandpa offered as we walked out of the stables and into the cooler evening air.

"Yes," I replied to my grandfather. He heard my voice for the first time that day. Grandpa gave me a smile and went to say something else, but my Mom interrupted us.

"Time to go!" Mom smiled, seeing that I was already outside. I waved goodbye to Grandpa and grabbed my messenger bag. I slid into the front seat since Sam was still dilly-dallying inside the house. Sam was upset when he had to sit in the backseat.

Mom tried to make light conversation as we drove to the Boardwalk. Sam was practically buzzing out of his skin with excitement. He wanted to see the Boardwalk at night. I was more apprehensive, but this weird feeling was deep in my gut.

I couldn't begin to explain it, but it felt like I was being pulled towards the Boardwalk for some reason. When Mom drove past it, it sounded louder than earlier in the day when we had seen it for the first time this summer. Mom parked the car.

"I want you both to have a good time," Mom addressed both of her kids. "Here's some money. I know being with your Mom on the Boardwalk is not cool. If you need a ride home, I'm leaving by 10 pm. Otherwise, be home at 1 am, Aria. Sam, your curfew is 10 - so be here, okay?"

"That's not fair!" Sam protested, accepting the money Mom gave us. He whined and complained at the heels of Mom while we walked towards the foreboding sign titled Boardwalk in neon lights.

I stopped for a second underneath the welcoming sign. I looked around at the people entering and exiting the Boardwalk. They were the same type of colorful people that I had observed earlier in the day. All walks of life, shape, size, and gender. Seeing so much happening in such a short period made my eyes hurt.

My brother noticed I wasn't following him, so he doubled back. When I entered the Boardwalk, my ears were assaulted with the loud sounds of Carnival music, kids screaming in delight, overlapping radio music, people fighting, and just talking. It was a little overwhelming to the senses - eyes viewing the bright lights, nose adjusting to the smell of fat and calories rich in the air, ears deafened, mouth-filling with the taste of sea salt, and skin being bumped by the overcrowding happening.

"There's a concert!" Sam shouted, pointing towards the beach where many people were gathered. I shook my head, telling my brother I wasn't following him down there. There were too many people, and it was too loud, and I wanted to be left to my own devices. Sam shrugged, leaving me on the Boardwalk. I hugged my messenger bag, wrapping my arms around my torso.

I moved around the bodies on the Boardwalk, trying to find a quiet place. An unoccupied bench on the far end of the Boardwalk would be perfect. I spotted one open on the outskirts of the Boardwalk. I picked up my pace, weaving in and out of the crowd. Lost in my hurry to get to the bench, I didn't notice the person in front of me until it was too late.

CRASH!

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