The Girl Who Doesn't Speak

Chapter 9

"Riley, don't you think you have been surfing a lot lately?"

I recall the discussion I heard my parents talking last night about surfing too much.

"Surfing is my hobby, Mum."

Mum smiles and pats my arm. "I know, sweetie. It's just that your father and I are concerned about how much time you're spending with the sport."

"Mum, relax. There is nothing wrong with me surfing."

She nods, biting her lip. "I know, I know. It's just that your father and I are worried about you, and whether or not if you are coping okay with Tiffany's death."

I stare at Mum. Is that all she and Dad are concerned about? They don't think I'm coping well if I surf too much?

"Mum, I'm fine."

I turn and walk out of the apartment before Mum says anything else, quickly running down the stairs.

The beach is pack with people still out and about enjoying the warm sun for the rest of the day. There are times when I never liked daylight saving, mainly because there are so many people at the beach still at the end of the day. Sometimes I couldn't surf at all because of the crowds. But other times I'm thankful for it, because if it wasn't daylight saving I wouldn't be able to surf until the morning.

I walk across the warm sand, glad there wasn't too many people near my favourite surfing spot. I paddle out on my board and sit and wait for a wave. The moment the wave appears, I catch it, instantly forgetting the things around me. I surf it until I wipe out. When I resurface, I was about to paddle out again when I spot her from the beach.

The girl with the neon blue hair stood on the sand, watching me. We stare at each other, and I couldn't help but wonder why she was following me. Did she have a place to go to?

I make my way back to shore to see if she was alright. Maybe she needed help with something. But when I get near the shore, the girl took off. She ran down the beach, disappearing among the crowd. I try to catch up with her, but she was too quick for me. I scan the beach, hoping to spot her, but I couldn't.

I walk back to my surf spot, wondering where the girl had disappeared to and why she had run away from me, especially after I had helped her.

I push her out of my head and went back to surfing. I stay out on the waves for a while until it started getting dark and I had to return to shore. People were clearing the beach now and I wonder for a moment if the girl was nearby.

I wander the beach, hoping to bump into her, but it got darker, making it harder to recognise people's faces. I head back home, trying to let myself not feel disappointed about not being able to see her. Even if I don't see her tonight, I could see her around the beach tomorrow. It will be a Sunday, which means I will be able to spend more time at the beach.

Mum was setting the table when I walked into the door. I tell her I was going to take a quick shower before joining her and Dad at the table.

We eat in silence. No one asked how each other's day was or what we had gotten up to. It's not until I was almost finished eating when Dad speaks.

"Riley, I know Tiffany's death has been hard on all of us," he says. "As a family we haven't been speaking much about how we feel. Your mother and I have been doing some counselling to help us cope with her death." He glances at Mum for a second before turning back to me. "Lately we haven't been paying much attention to you or even asked how you have been coping."

"I'm fine, Dad," I tell him, pulling my cutlery down on my plate, reaching for my glass of grape juice. "There is no reason to worry too much about me." I take a sip of my drink.

"Are you sure? Riley, it's important that you tell us if anything is bothering you. Lately you have been doing a lot of surfing, and I know it helps you to keep your mind off everything, and that's good. But your mother and I are just both concerned with how much you have been doing the sport."

I raise an eyebrow at both of my parents. Were they serious? What did surfing a lot had anything to do with how I was choosing to cope with my sister's death? Shouldn't they be grateful that I was out doing something I enjoy rather than isolating myself in my room on out getting drunk or taking drugs?

"Seriously? You are both worried that I'm surfing too much?"

"Yes, we are," Mum speaks up. "We aren't saying it's a bad thing. We are just concerned, especially you have never really spoken to us about how you feel about Tiffany. Plus, you haven't packed anything in your room yet. We are moving next week, Riley."

"So what if I haven't packed yet? Maybe it's because I don't want to move."

"Even if you don't want to, you will have to do it eventually," Dad reminds me. "Look, Riley, we just want to make sure you are alright about everything. Your mother and I know how strong your twin bond was, and we just want to make sure you're coping okay. You can talk to us."

I shake my head. "No. I don't have to talk to you guys about anything. I'm fine, okay? Maybe I have been surfing a lot, but that's because it relaxes me. It keeps my mind off everything. I'm mourning Tiffany's death in my own way."

Dad nods. "I understand, son. We just want you to be happy and open up to us. Your mother and I have talked, and we think counselling might help you to open up more."

I stare at my parents. How could they treat me like a little kid? I'm eighteen years old. Shouldn't I be the one who should say whether or not if I need counselling?

I stand up from my chair, not worrying about clearing my plate off the table or even finished eating. I could argue with my parents if I wanted to, but there was seriously no point in doing so. I walk away from the table.

"Where are you going, Riley?" Dad asks me. "We haven't finished talking."

I start to head to my room, but then stop. If I go to my room, my parents could still try and get me to talk. If I go out to the beach, they may not follow me.

Dad asks me one last time where I was going, and I tell him I was going nowhere. I walk out of the door, and hurry down the stairs before Dad follows me out. Guitar music comes from Rhett's and Devon's apartment and I thought I could visit Devon, but then I thought it might be best I don't. He would probably want to be on his own and practice for his gig tomorrow night.

I head out onto the beach. A few people were still out and about along the path, but I couldn't see anyone on the beach. I take off my thongs, and walk along the sand towards the ocean. I breathe in the strong salty air, standing there on the wet sand with my eyes close. I feel the cool water touching my feet as it comes to shore and quickly washes out. The feel of the water made me want to run back to the apartment and grab my board.

I head down to the cliffs to the left side of the beach. It may be dark, but I can hear the waves crashing into the rocks. I still wonder why my parents want to move away from here. I have grown up here. The beach relaxes me, and so does surfing. I don't need any counselling to help me cope with Tiffany's death. Just doing what I love the most helps me feel better.

I sit down on the sand, staring out into the dark sea. My parents wouldn't look for me here if they do come looking for me. They would either check to see if I'm with Rhett or if I'm along the shoreline, not near the cliffs.

I have only been sitting here for at least five to ten minutes when I suddenly had this weird feeling that someone was watching me. I look around me, but I couldn't see anyone at all. Not in the dark anyway. I'm sure no one is there.

It's not until I'm hit from the back of my head that I realise I wasn't alone.