See The Stars [Completed]

Chapter Three

Jay went home the next day, leaving me in bed. He left a note though and some breakfast. But I didn’t have the energy to move around. I slept and the more I slept, the more tired I got. And the more tired I got, the more my head hurt. But I couldn’t get medicine because I felt tired. So I was in bed, tired and in pain. The little speakers in my old room were blasting random songs I didn’t know. It was an unknown playlist. And I was enjoying it. It was a bit out of my comfort zone to listen to unknown beats but it felt adventurous. I scoffed at the thought. I was a loser. 

Thankfully, there was no sign of Milo or Ducky. The song paused as my phone's notification sounded. I groaned and turned to pick up my phone and pulled the aux cable out. Mom texted me an address with instructions.

Today, 4-6 pm. Session one.

Wow. Mom truly brought tears to my eyes with her sentimental words. As if I wasn’t busy anyway, now I have to go to a therapist too. She found me a doctor in this place too. I plugged my phone back into the speaker and went back to my busy world. I looked around my room, and no— it wasn’t pink. It was colorful. I never really liked one single color for more than a month so one wall was painted sage green and the others were white. But one of them was filled with my paintings. Canvases of all sorts decorated the wall, sketches and painted papers were pasted with tapes, and all in all, it was an art piece that no matter how old I get, I would never take it off. The other wall was a big mirror. The next wall was bare and it had a window that faced the beachside. My furniture didn’t match the other pieces. I had thrifted most of them and with the help of my dad, painted them and transformed them. I was a creator type of human. I rolled off of my large bed and yes, I had a canopy. Who didn’t? They were the coolest. The bookshelf next to my bedside table had a section of my old summer diaries that caught my eyes. I pulled out the first one and laughed when I realized they were arranged according to the years. Everything was organized. Well, I surely did deteriorate. The covers were all leather. These diaries were all self-made. Well, not by me but my dad. We both were a creator duo. 

I recognized my clean handwriting. One thing I was proud of was my handwriting. It was cursive and clean. I opened up the first page and of course, it was some exciting bullshit about when my father told us about this beach house. I smiled at the innocent sentences. He said that the house was exactly like my dream house. And another one was, that he even bought family scooters for us to drive around the town. And another one, I was going to befriend everyone there and then we will have parties around the beach. These kinds of innocent sentences went on and on until my eyes found the diary entry named Ronan. My throat went dry and I shut the diary. Of course, he would be in here. Now that I remembered, he would be in all of the summer diaries. He was almost the topic of my daily thoughts. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I needed to do this. I needed to— get the fuck out of this house. 

So, I did. I pulled out a yellow t-shirt and a pair of black shorts. I walked towards the same ice cream shop and ordered the same ice cream. The diary was still warm in my hands. Tory gave me a soft smile and I gave him back a constipated one. 

“You from Bellowen colony?” He initiated the conversation.

“Yes. But I like to call it, rich people nest.” And after I said that, I realized how that could be taken in the wrong way but he just smiled. 

“Of course, you do.” 

“What?” I raised a brow at his tone and he shook his head.  

“You are ten days earlier than the rest.” He spoke. “Most people start arriving at the start of June.” 

“Well, I am not most people.” I cringed at my reply. Sometimes, I cringe at my existence. Like why? What am I even doing? And why?

“You want a tour?” He offered and I shook my head.