plot twist

c h a p t e r t w o

My head was pounding. It felt like my brain had grown two sizes and was trying to escape the confines of my skull. I reached up to hold my head, trying to keep the contents in place. Instead, it met with a matted mess of hair, thick with salty sea spray.

I groaned as a beam of intense morning light came directly at my head, and the screech of curtain rings sliding along the pole was awful.  Sophie's sheets were clean and cold and felt soft against my disgustingly sweaty body.

I sat up in the bed, internally screaming at the feeling in my head. The covers fell onto the bed, and I was left in my black lace bra and panties from last night. My dress, however, was nonexistent. I looked on the floor around the bed, thinking I must've discarded it at some point last night, and felt slightly calm after spotting what looked like a lilac heap on the floor a few metres away.

'Sophie!' I called out into the apartment, but when I received no response, I decided that she must have gone to work. Today was my day off, thank heavens, because there is no way I could handle screaming kids with this monster hangover.

My phone was on the nightstand next to me, and I fumbled around, trying to pick it up so I could check the time.

Six o'clock. I hadn't got enough sleep, but my mind was consumed with the idea of getting onto the waves, so I didn't care.

My stretch of the beach was pretty empty, and I went to quickly pick up my board from the shack where some of us kept our stuff. After, that I shoved my denim shorts and thin grey jumper into a satchel, I put in the space my board was, leaving me in my red, one-piece swimming costume. It was too warm to bother with a wetsuit, and I started moving towards the waves.

A wave came in, and it was like I was watching in slow motion as it exploded in a burst of white foam. 

The sea looked good, with lots of high waves, my skin was itching to be in the water. I paddled, revelling in the bright sun and light breeze on my back. After reaching a good depth, I turned my board, so the nose was out of the water and sat back to wait for a sound wave.

I saw ith then—a beautiful wave coming closer like it was drawn to me. I started paddling to try and catch it. My feet were steady., and my damp hair was blown away from my face.

The wave was beautiful, and riding it, the smooth water gushing past me under my feet made me feel like I was on top of the world. It was perfect—the perfect moment. I rode the wave a little longer but sat back down on my board as the waters started to settle. 

Keeping one leg tethered to the board, I let my self float in the crystal waters, inhaling the beautiful, clean, salty air.

The sky was pretty and blue, with only a few fluffy clouds marring the picturesque blank canvas. It was my place. My moment. But the dark, twisting ribbons of what I had been reminded of last night came spiralling back.

I couldn't breathe. I was inhaling, I could feel the cold air entering my mouth, but it wasn't going in. My lungs were closing up. I needed to leave; I needed to get outside. I pushed past the concentration of moving bodies and didn't stop pacing until I reached the beach, right up at the shore.

When I was running, I had heard Peter call behind me; I think he asked if I was okay, the worry evident in his panicked, high pitched tone of voice. I ignored him. I felt kind of evil or leaving him, but it felt like my lungs would combust if I spent another moment in that room.

I sat cross-legged on the beach, the ebb and flow of the ways surely dampening the bottom of my dress. The cold foam on my parched skin was surprisingly nice and grounding.

Dancing with Peter had been nice. He had been nice. There had been salsa music playing, and he had spun me around and dipped me until I couldn't help but giggle. But then, as I nestled my face into the crook of his neck, it happened.