Wind Blown ✔️

3. Scars are meant to be hidden

"So, what'd you have to do?" Marine asked suddenly, seeming to snap out of her sudden moment of grief.

"Oh, Nix made me write a list of things I knew to be true," I replied, nonchalantly, turning my gaze back out the window.

"What'd you write?" Marine asked as the car lurched forward, she muttered an apology but still turned to me expectantly.

I felt my throat constrict, "Uh, nothing just bullshit."

She nodded and chuckled lightly, "I swear ninety percent of what you do in there is 'bullshit'."

"What else is there to do?" I replied with a smile.

She laughed in reply, her mellow laughter ringing throughout the tiny car, bouncing off the walls. I felt a grin creep onto my face, as I watched her eyes crinkle as she laughed.

Once she'd recovered she turned back to me, "It must be helping, though, you seem a lot happier."

I shook my head, "I don't think that's anything to do with this doctor bullshit," I replied, turning my gaze back to the window.

"I think it's everything to do with the doctor bullshit."

I sighed heavily, as another memory washed over me and suddenly I wasn't in Marine's tiny blue Hyundai but rather the standing beside it.

We were at the beach, standing in the parking lot whilst I waited for Marine to dig her towel out of the trunk. She walked over to me triumphantly, holding up the blue beach towel in victory. I chuckled as she wrapped her slender fingers around my bicep guiding me after her to the sandy beach.

"You're gonna love it," she began but I shook my head cutting her off.

"Marine, I hate the beach," I replied, she giggled.

"You're the only person I know who calls me Marine," she commented."

What does everyone else call you?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

I watched her shoulders bounce as she chuckled at my reaction, "Mar."

"Mar?"

She nodded, I shook my head, "No, it doesn't sound right. I prefer Marine," I began, "No offense or anything," I added hastily.

She laughed again, airily and I felt my chest swell, "I prefer Marine, too," she admitted glancing at me shyly.

Once we reached the sand she threw her towel down and kicked off her sandals. I sighed heavily and dropped into the sand, I could feel it sticking to the backs of my legs.

I hate the beach.

I glanced at Marine who was halfway through pulling off the black top she'd worn over her swimmers. I felt my throat constrict as I looked away, I could see her shimmying out of her denim shorts out of the corner of my eye.

"You sure you don't want to swim?" She asked again, but this time she was only wearing her bikini.

"Positive," I replied, waiting until she'd turned around to let my eyes rake her body.

I love the beach.

She practically skipped down to the water, wading in without any hesitation until the waves were at her waist. I had a book sitting beside me but I couldn't bring myself to tear my eyes away from her both out of fear for her safety and because of how wonderful she looked in her swimmers.

After a moment of splashing around in the water, she waded back out, water droplets forming on her body. Once she'd reached me she grabbed my forearm, yanking me to my feet.

"Are you sure you don't want to swim before we leave?" She asked, her eyes practically begging me to agree.

In a temporary moment of stupidity, I pulled off my shirt I didn't realize my mistake until I threw it onto the sand and noticed her horrified gaze. I followed her eyes and realized I'd exposed the scars on my hips, the gruesome scars I'd put there some time ago.

I hastily grabbed my shirt and pulled it back over my head, unable to meet her eyes. I walked away from her as fast as I could, I wished I hadn't let her bring me hours away from home because now I was forced to let her drive me back. I slumped against the side of the car, drawing my knees up to my chest and resting my head against the burning metal of the passenger door.

Overcome with the fear that she'd leave me now, never want to speak with me again, I began to tear up. I couldn't help the fat tears that rolled down my cheeks or the choked sob that escaped my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut until I felt a familiar hand on my arm.

I opened my eyes to see Marine slide down the car beside me, sitting so that our sides were flush against each other. Her wet skin dampening my clothes, she didn't speak. Just rested her head on my shoulder and ran her hand down my arm until she reached my palm and then intertwined our fingers.

I sat there numb, a strange warmth blossoming in my chest and fireworks erupting beneath my skin. I rested my head on hers, despite the fact her hair was still damp from the salty water.

The memory slowly faded away, consciousness replacing it as I remembered that I wasn't at the beach with Marine, rather in her car listening to her terrible jazz.

Marine was talking about her AP biology class, probably under the impression I'd been listening.

"I think I'm gonna drop it," she concluded, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah, I did," I replied, trying to seem as if I'd been listening.

"It's too much work," she added, seeming satisfied and turning her eyes back to the road.

I hummed in reply and paused hesitating before I spoke again, "We should go back to the beach."