Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 57 - GOD, I MISS HIM

Not for her. But for me.

The day for our batch beach outing came. The sky looked washed that morning, like someone had scrubbed it overnight. Pale blue and nearly translucent, tinged with the faintest silver, like the world was holding its breath. I packed light. Just a medium-sized bag, two pairs of rashguards, some beach clothes, undergarments folded into corners, my wallet, charger, earbuds. Sunscreen and makeup that I might not even use. I packed like someone trying not to take up too much space, even in a canvas zipper. Maybe that’s all I ever did. I wore an oversized white graphic tee, the kind that felt like it belonged to someone I used to be. A rainbow stretched across the chest, blooming above yellow flowers and a calm sky. Around the image, yellow text read: live in the sunshine. Not a command. More like a dare. The faded denim shorts I wore were ripped at the edges, the fraying soft from time. On my wrist, I had two bracelets, one was gold, the charms shaped like tiny stars, each one catching the morning light like little blinks of memory. The other was knotted rainbow strings, worn smooth in places. My fingers brushed it absently. Around my neck: a thin gold chain with a small white cloud. Not puffy or cartoonish, just simple. Still. Like the kind of cloud you stare at when you’re trying not to cry. My burgundy hair was gathered into a messy ponytail, the ends uneven, wild from sleep. A white flower clip held it all together, barely. I wore thick gold hoop earrings that felt too bold for the quiet ache inside me, and dark vintage sunglasses that hid everything else. My anklet matched my string bracelet. And my slippers were white. Unapologetically plain. I didn’t look radiant. But I looked like someone trying. Sometimes, that’s enough.

“Damn, B.” Inez’s voice snapped me out of my own head. “You look like you walked out of an indie film.”

I looked up.

Inez was a sunbeam in human form. Her striped cropped polo, yellow and white, was knotted just above the waist of her high-waisted flared denim jeans. Around her neck, a gold chain cradled a sun pendant glinting with yellow citrines and tiny tourmalines. Each stone seemed to shimmer with something close to hope. A star-shaped sling bag with a gold chain draped across her torso, like a constellation she’d chosen for herself. Yellow heart-shaped sunglasses, a gold watch, flower earrings studded with garnets, a golden topaz ring on her middle finger, she looked like she had dressed herself out of a myth. A bright, blinding one. On her feet: high-cut yellow and white checkered Nike sneakers. The kind of shoes you wore when you intended to live loud.

Her arm was looped through Tim’s, and they looked like the kind of couple people made playlists about.

Tim wore a plain white tee and beach shorts dyed ocean blue, printed with soft, faded flowers. A denim cap rested low over his brows, and his dark sunglasses gave him an easy, confident calm. A gold necklace winked against his chest. And white slippers that looked worn-in, loved. He smiled when he saw me. That smile that said, we’re okay.

“Yo guys!!!” Corey called out, walking beside Drake. His voice was already louder than the engine warming by the curb.

Corey looked like a travel magazine had exploded onto him, in a good way. His camp-collared shirt was a mix of yellowish-brownish-green, like the in-between of seasons. Mocha-colored ferns and leaves sprawled across it in lazy patterns. Khaki shorts, dark sunglasses with brown frames, brown sandals. A Panama hat sat atop his head like he knew he was meant to be remembered. Around his neck, a vintage camera dangled, more like an amulet than a gadget.

Drake was the counterbalance. Quiet. Cool. A mint green button-up with gold hibiscus flowers and deep green ferns patterned across it. Green shorts. Green sunglasses with black frames. An Apple Watch with a forest-green strap. And khaki loafers that didn’t scream for attention but still said: I thought about this.