FOREVER AGO | CHANDLER RIGGS {2}

29.

Emmaline sat amongst the waves. Hands floating over the water, her board drifting listlessly along the calm ocean. Her eyes scoured the horizon. Watching. Waiting.

She had come out early for dawn patrol, now hours later she had still not come back in. Her hair beginning to crust with salt, skin beginning to burn as her sunscreen had worn off about thirty rides ago.

She decided she'd grab one more wave and she'd head home. Face reality. She had been in a state of disbelief for the last few days. As much of a shock it was having her most personal life details spilled out on live national television, there was nothing more she could do about it. What's done, is done. That much she could accept.

But out here, she could get away from it. Part of her wished she could just stay out on the waves forever.

But, life is a lot like surfing, when you get caught in the impact zone, you have to get right back up. You can't just stay below the surface. Can't let the riptide pull you under. That's how you drown.

And Emmaline Goulding refused to drown.

She had come so far from the girl who's 51/50 hospital visit landed her in a two month stay at a residential mental rehab center. So, to keep herself out of the fuss of everything, she had given her phone to Diana, who promptly hid it somewhere in the dungeon mess she called her bedroom. With that, Emma had not been on social media nor had she been aware of any texts or calls she might have received. Which was fine, she lived with her family, Chloe was just next door, and, well, Chandler knew where to find her. If he wanted to come talk to her, he would.

And... He hadn't.

Not after she left the studio in tears, Chandler waving goodbye as he was on the phone with his own concerned mother.

The next day, she waited for him to make an appearance. Or contact one of her siblings. Or something.

But after the article came out, she was happy to have time away from him. She needed to think.

However, her time to think was running out.

She heard him before she saw him, the sound of someone sloppily paddling their way towards her. She looked over her shoulder to see him, on a quite ridiculous looking nine-foot foamie board he had clearly rented in a haste from El Porto on the strand.

"Hey," He called out, around a mouth full of salt water. "Hey, I just wanted to—Well, your mom said you were out here and—Oh, my God. Remember that time you made me watch 'Soul Surfer'? I'm starting to freak myself out. Have there been any shark sightings—?"

"Did you talk to that reporter?" She asked flatly. He went silent. "Were you the source...? Chandler?"

He unsteadily sat up on the board, almost toppling over as he did. "Emma..."

"No, just tell me."

"...They reached out to my agent and my agent talked to me and—"

"How could you?"

"I didn't know what it was for! I just told him what was going on and they all just ran with it. I didn't think that I had said anything bad until Diana broke into my apartment in the middle of the night and poured a tupperware container of clam chowder on me."