Lost | √

Chapter Seven

He rolls his eyes and reaches for my cup on the table behind him. "Here," he says as he extends the warm cup into my hands.

"Thanks," I sing cheerily with a large cheesy grin plastered to my face. I lift the cup to my lips and let the sweet caffeine warm it's way through my chest and veins.

"You're an addict," Chase gripes at me as we head out of his bedroom.

"Tell me something I don't know," I hum against the rim of the coffee cup finishing off my delicious drink.

As we make our way down the stairs and into the main living room we both spot Chase's parents immediately, and his arm instantly wraps around my shoulders. Over the last few days we've fallen into step with this whole pretending thing. We rarely touch when we're by ourselves besides the random playful touch or hug. Neither of us are touchy feely people to begin with, but when we are around his family his hand is either wrapped around mine, hanging off my shoulder, or lightly placed on my hip. Even the occasional kiss on the cheek happens.

And all of this doesn't bother me one bit, unless we are in front of his brother. I watch Clayton watch his brother touch me innocently, and I hate the way a part of me wishes it was his hand on me instead of Chase's familiar one. Clayton is a kiss from a year ago, a memory fading away the longer I'm around him and he barely gives me the time of day.

He's Chase's older brother, he's rarely around, he barely speaks, so he's no one.

But when my eyes land on him, and his land on his brother's hand that touches my shoulder delicately my stomach flips.

Stay away Hayley. Stay. Away.

* * * * *

"I love the beach," I speak quietly into the warm wind. The sun burns down on my skin causing tan lines almost immediately.

"Same," my father responds next to me. His fair Irish skin the opposite of mine, and already beginning to turn red.

"Why don't we live by the beach?" I ask, as my eyes take in the majestic blue of the ocean before us. The soft grainy sand run through my fingers and I have this sudden moment of realization. That this is home. Nothing's ever made me so safe, ever felt so perfect, besides my family.

"Because we live in Illinois," my father states as if it's obvious.

I turn my head slightly to take in my father. The way he looks at the ocean is the same why he looks at my mother, pure unadulterated love.

"But why?" I ask not understanding at my trivial teen age why we can't just pick up and move miles and miles from our home.

My father turns and his light green eyes, the same as mine hold me in place.

"Because," he says simply.

"Because?" I question. "That's a lame reason dad," I tell him truthfully.

He laughs at my words. He always loved my more sassy sarcastic side, definitely more then my mother who always wants me to act like a lady.

"Because," he starts his lips smirking at the word. "We appreciate it more."

"We do?" I ask as confusion laces not only through my words but my face.

"To people who live here it's just the beach, it's apart of life," he tells me. "And at some point it loses its glory."

"What makes it magical?" I push watching my father watch the waves.

"Exactly," he agrees instantly as if he knew I would understand his words.