Rickola

Rickola | Chapter Four

© Katelyn Moore

The great thing about alone time was that you could always let your imagination run away with you. You could fall into the depths of your own personal wonderland and there was no one around to criticise your thoughts, or those fanatical scenarios teenage girls came up with when they were on a boy-crazed high. You could do anything you wanted; you could think anything you wanted.

I’d always been annoyed with Kylie and Bianca for animatedly daydreaming about Rick Avery, but I could empathise with them now. Apparently, they were right when they said I was missing out. The dream I was having right now was solid proof of that.

I should use my imagination more often.

I was having the best dream, and Rick Avery was right in the thick of it. I wasn’t entirely sure how I could think so clearly in my sleep—maybe it had something to do with my subconscious and my habit for analysing everything—but it just made this hallucination so much more real. It made it so much better then a regular dream.

The sun was shining, the waves were swirling, and I was at the beach with Rick Avery. We were sitting alone on the rocks, away from the crowd on the sand, and he had just told me his favourite colour was blue. What a big fat lie that was—his favourite colour was supposed to be green. At least, I think that is what it’s supposed to be. 

Something cold bit at my feet then and I rubbed them together to get rid of the chill. It was disturbing me and I just wanted to get back to dreaming about a handsome Hollywood heartthrob.

My thoughts may have been clear, but this dream was as vivid as life with open eyes. I could see everything as clear as day—I could envision his perfection flawlessly.

Those gorgeous eyes.

That shiny hair.

How I would love to touch his hair. It looked so glossy, and I would bet my week’s allowance that it was the silkiest hair on the planet. And again, the eyes. I could just fall into their alluring hazel depths and never come out. I could look at him all day if I ever got the chance.

What a great dream this was turning out to be. Maybe I did spend too much time with Kylie—her obsessiveness was starting to rub off on me, but I didn’t mind. I could dream about Rick Avery for a very long time and not get tired of him. It was a sign of my growing madness and of the crazy fan-girl disease.

Damn it, what is that? I rubbed my feet together again as small flecks of cold touched my toes. Whatever it was, it was bloody annoying.

But Rick Avery… now he was a different story. I once thought his mere existence was a massive pain in my arse, but now I would undoubtedly look for his face any chance I got. Heck, maybe I’d even steal one of Bianca’s posters. Then I could look at him any time I wanted.

A wave of coldness washed over my legs again and this time I sat up, alarmed. Water had crashed against the rock face, the sea spray rising over the edge. Damn water was interrupting my glorious dream.

I glanced around to familiarise myself with my surroundings and almost jumped out of my skin when I saw who was sitting close by. The sun was shining, the rocks glistening with water, the ocean singing along to the hum of beach-goers in the distance. And right in the middle of it was Rick Avery.

It wasn’t a dream!

 Dear Lord, it really happened. I was at the beach with Rick Avery. Alone!

How the hell is this possible?

“You all right?” Rick asked, silky tones penetrating the peaceful sounds surrounding us.  He sat up as he spoke, bringing his hands from behind his head to rest in his lap. Concern clouded his expression as he watched me carefully.

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, looking anywhere but at him. “Did I go to sleep?” My belongings suggested that I had—my towel was spread underneath me, slightly crinkled by my moving around, and my bag rested behind me as a makeshift pillow.

He nodded. “You’ve been out for a while.”

I didn’t mention it, but considering he had been on my mind all night, it was kind of his fault that I’d passed out. The last thing I could remember about today, though, was lying down to read more of the magazine. I looked around and spotted it resting on the rock between us. It was open to an article about a pair of underage sisters living alone.