Chasing Tides

Chapter 5

*picture of his Truck! I love it!*

Playing the situation over in my head, I made my way towards the forest to find my bag. I romped through the deep green foliage to my black suitcase that laid in the same place, I had left it. Good. I opened it back up and threw on a pair of shorts and my tanktop.

To start, there had been a strange man watching me, almost like he was watching to make sure I was safe. Then a big wave came, that I just barley missed, because I had locked eyes with the man. And, when I came back up he was gone, then I noticed him laying on the beach. I rushed to go help him, which I very well did not have to do, and he storms off like I had just insulted him or something. My head was spinning as I carried my two bags back out of the forest and into the parking lot. The same car that was there when I had arrived, still sat there, parked. Inside I could see the guy from the beach. I scowled at him, though he didn't seem to notice, so I stomped right on by, with my bags rolling behind me. I reached the street, and decided to head right, walking down the palm tree line side walk. My hair wet hair laid against my back, I was so angry, I didn't even know why I cared.

After I walked for a little while, there was a coffee shop, so I stepped inside. I left my bags at a table just inside the door, making sure to keep a close eye on them.

"Iced Vanilla Latte, please." I told the barista, pulling out ones from within my purse. I put down four dollars on the counter.

"Keep the rest..." The girl looked grateful. I walked to the other counter and stood to wait for my drink. I pulled my phone from my pocket. Four missed calls, one from Mom, one from Dad, one from Hunter, and one from the home phone. I ignored them and stuffed my phone back into my shorts. I glanced back at my bags, they were gone.

Shoot.

I dashed out the door, to see a familiar car right there. I ran towards the trunk slowing when I saw the culprit, the guy from the beach was loading my suitcase into his truck.

"What do it think you're doing?" I hissed at him.

"You need a place to stay, I have a couch." He replied.

" You had no right. And how do you know I need a place to stay, I'm perfectly fine on my own." I spit, my anger from earlier events, showing through plainly.

He simply got into his car and slammed the door. I groaned. Knowing I had no choice now, I walked back to retrieve my latte, and marched back to his car, slamming the door next to me. I sat in silence as he drove off, waiting for him to say something, anything. But silent it stayed. After at least 25 minutes, we got off the highway and found our way to a small street. It had little shops on either side and benches for people to sit. We pulled onto a gravel path, that winded back through the trees for only about 5 seconds, really just a false sense of security. He halted the car to a screeching stop and jumped out quickly. He pulled my bags out and took them inside. His house was a pale blue, with a small white fence surrounding the grassy yard. It was surprisingly well kept, for a single guy in his late teens or very early twenties. Unless he wasn't single... Or looked incredibly young for his age. That was besides the point.

I carefully opened the door of his big white truck. His truck wasn't quite as well kept as his home. I slipped into the small gate and practically tip toed up his steps. I put my hand around his doorknob, what was I doing? For all I knew he was an axe murderer, and quite honestly he wasn't exactly charming either. Oh well, I clicked the door open and stepped inside. There was a brown leather couch facing a flat screen TV. There were surf magazines neatly stacked on a coffee table, and a wall full of surfing medals. I strolled into the kitchen looking for my bags. The kitchen was pretty large with only a few dishes laying on the counter. I then walked towards the living room again.

He emerged from a door on the other side of the living room. " Your bags are in the bedroom, I changed the sheets for you."

" What do you mean?" I said, confused as to why my bags were in the living room.

" Well do you want to sleep here, or not?"

I looked at him. His eyes told me to stop there and accept what he gave me. I entered into the room, it's walls were a dark royal blue, and had artwork scattered on the walls. The bed was definitely a California King, it resembled my bed at home. My bags sat on a chair nearby, so I walked over and changed into my pajamas. In the bathroom I brushed my teeth and walked back of to revisit the bed. I pulled back the sheets, and slipped into the bed. My mind was reeling.

I had come to Hawaii, and this was how I was spending my first night? I could easily have gotten a hotel room or rented a house, but here I was in the jerk's bedroom. Classy.