'Our mind is a library of its own'
"We leave in five," Wesley says before leaving me to get changed, making it a point to drag Kayden back with him.
Shutting the door behind them, I move to gather my things. Changing into some shorts and a loose tank top, I don't bother with a bathing suit not having any intentions of actually going into the water.
Once satisfied with the amount of SPF I have on and making sure every visible inch of my body is lathered in it, I slip on my sandals and head down.
"I'm not changing," I declare as soon as I catch their gazes assessing my choice in clothing.
"You're wearing shorts," Kayden remarks unimpressed.
"So are you," I roll my eyes.
"Don't roll your eyes at me, little girl," Kayden reprimands taking a threatening step toward me. Against all my self-preservative instinct, I hold his gaze and don't budge.
"Alright, that's enough," Wesley says, with a grip on Kayden's shoulder pushing him backward creating some space between us.
Kayden doesn't move at first, but eventually gives in and takes a few steps backward, his eyes narrowed at me.
"You don't leave our sight," Wesley is quick to remind me pointedly. I just nod. With that, we exit the house.
"And Liv?" Wesley calls my attention as we set out on foot towards the beach. I wordlessly turn to face him with a questioning look.
"Do you have more clothes like this?" Wesley asks once we're out of the house. I shrug.
"Burn them," he instructs nonchalantly. I refrain from an eyes roll.
The warmth of the sun spreads over our skin, as we step out from beneath the shade of the palm trees that had lined our route uptil here.
"Shit, I forgot sunscreen," Kayden grumbles rubbing his arms that are now exposed to the unforgiving harshness of the sun.
"Of course you did," Wesley rolls his eyes at his younger brother's predictability.
I hold my silence and wordlessly hand him the bottle of sunscreen I had carried. "Thanks, little sis, I knew I could always count on you," he ruffles my hair, only to have his hand smacked away by me.
'Why do I put up with him?'
We find ourselves a spot on the otherwise empty beach. Wesley's quick to retrieve a surfboard out of thin air, while Kayden breaks out in a sprint towards the waters, pulling off his shirt and discarding his shoes as he does so, and diving headfirst into the waters.
"Aren't you joining us?" Wesley asks when he notices I'm not advancing towards the notably calm sea. I shake my head negatively.
He frowns. "Stay somewhere we can see you then," he instructs and I nod, flopping down on the sand.
I breathe in the saline air, the sound of waves crashing on the shore finding its way to calm my anxious mind. And with what I'm planning, I need all the calming I can get.
I spend the next few minutes just basking in the morning sun and watching two grown men act like five-year-olds splashing water at each other while trying to evade getting caught by each other.
I finally conclude that's it time to put my rather well-scrutinized plan into play--for a plan I put together in less than half an hour, it is considerably well-thought-out and detailed.
My eyes say prefixed on the boys, as I slowly get up from my spot in the sand and cautiously back away from the scene. One step. Two steps. Thre--by now I'm running to find cover behind some trees while executing my escape strategy.
They don't notice me leave. I sigh in relief.
With determination fueling my strides, I make my way toward the forbidden marketplace. My hypervigilant stance making me well aware of all the stares directed my way as I maneuver my way through the crowd.
Ignoring the calls from every vendor I pass by, and the over-enthusiastic tour guide following me behind that won't take no for an answer, I just opt to focus on the goal and not on my journey towards it.
"Ma'am you look really lost, I can show you around!" The guy calls out behind me.
"No thanks," I grumble back, just like have been doing since he started following me.
Had it not been such a safety hazard, I would have allowed myself the liberty to be annoyed with this person, but instead, I clutch tightly in my palm my only defense -pepper spray. My finger sitting anxiously at its release button, ready to act at a moment's notice. My other hand firmly clasping my phone.
So when an unknown pressure is applied to my arm to form a firm grip, I do the only logical thing. I turn and mace them.
To my utter horror, I watch as neon orange liquid coats the ground right at the feet of my attacker.
'Guess pepper spray does expire'
"Did you just try to mace me?" A familiar unimpressed voice questions.
My gaze snaps to meet those of my attacker, only to gulp in wide-eyed realization. Enrique.
"Olivia." His authoritative tone efficiently snaps me out of my shocked state. I look at him questioningly.
He doesn't respond, just holds my gaze. I given in. "Yes?" I use my words--much to his satisfaction--my tone barely a whisper.
"Minding explaining to me, what are you doing here?" He demands impressively. I shrug. He seems to ignore my wordless answer while waiting for me to verbalize it.
"Exploring?" I lie. Well not a complete lie, I am exploring the way to prove I'm right.
He continues to stare at me blankly. I shift uncomfortably in my place, trying to evade his gaze.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Fo--"Does Wesley know about this little trip of yours?" He asks in a tone that sends chills down my spine.
"By now, probably," I mumble under my breath.
Getting caught wasn't part of my plan, so at this moment I'm at a blindspot really. I have no premeditated excuse or explanation. This is bad. Very bad.
"Am I to assume you were made aware that you are not permitted to come here before being allowed to leave the house?" He asks and I nod slowly.
"Words," he reminds coldly.
"Yes," I reply.
"And you choose to ignore that and to put your safety at risk and come here despite that?" he states sounding it out like a question.
"I-I," I open my mouth to reply, but I can't find my words. "I didn't put my safety at risk, I ha--" I cut myself off my eyes trailing down towards my only form of self-defense--the expired canister of paper spray.
"Right," he says, his eyes following mine to the canister still clutched in my hand.
"We're heading back," he states firmly.
My eyes widen and before I can think it through I grab his hand that held mine, in my pathetic attempt to prevent us from leaving. His eyes slowly trace my arm down to my hand that's gripping his and he looks at me with a raised brow.
"I've come so far, I need to see it for myself," I state making sure my words hold an undertone of adamance.
"You're welcome to try," he replies curtly, knowing exactly what I'm referring to.
"Jut--" I breathe in, calming myself. "What do you have to lose?" I try reasoning.
"Time." Comes his laconic reply.
There is no convincing with him, I conclude, but I also can't let all my efforts that got me so far go in vain. I have to at least try.
Enrique can be a reasonable person--when he wants to be--I just have to find the right words and a convincing argument.
"I'm asking you for something. Just this once," I request in the most convincing tone I can muster.
He just looks at me uncaringly. I hold my temper.
"It's a small request and then we can put this matter to rest," I add. I having to talk so much not helping my building irritation towards him.
"No," he replies without a second of deliberation, before resuming his previous motion and tagging me along with him back in the direction where I just came from.
'Don't yell at him, it won't help anyone' I convince myself, taking yet another calming breath.
"This thing keeps bugging me, I can't even sleep at night," I blurt out in admission and come to hate my decision not long after.
But to my surprise, this is what catches Enrique's attention and we no longer are heading towards the exit of the marketplace. Instead, he stops briefly before redirecting us towards a quiter location, away from the crowd.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" He frowns. I shrug.
I refrain from rolling my eyes when I realize my mistake. "I don't know, it's not like it's a choice," I explain.
"Have you brought this issue to your mother's notice?" He inquires, unimpressed by the situation.
I shrug again. "What's the point?" I reply. But his cold glare of reprimand makes me want to rethink my response.
"Since when haven't you been sleeping?"
I force myself not to shrug. "Since I was last here," I reply. He makes a mental note.
"Look," I take another breath. "I just want to see if that slid is there or not, that's it," I say.
"Your mind won't be at rest regardless of us going there or not," he states causing me to frown.
"Why?" I ask instead of giving him a questioning look.
He stays silent for a few moments, I can see that he's really thinking his words through. Probably even deciding whether he should or shouldn't tell me the truth, I'm not sure he is one of the toughest people to read. Some might even label it as unpredictable.
"The sild?" He finally says and I wait silently for him to continue. "Your prediction is accurate, a giraffe slid is installed at the playground you say it is in," he admits.
And at that moment I realize that Enrique is right, this new information didn't bring me peace of mind if anything it created more turmoil than before.
As though to prove the validity of his words I soon find myself staring at the structure I so vividly had imagined in my head now before my eyes.
Every detail, from its position on the grounds to the rusty coat of yellow paint, that's peeling off from its feet, every detail is precise.
"How?" I find myself wondering out loud.
"That's a good question, indeed," Enrique replies, his tone void of any emotions.
"We have to head back, the others are worried sick," he informs me, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Okay," I reply.
'I hate verbal responses' I conclude.
It doesn't take us long to reach back. But with every step we take that leads us closer to the house the weight of my actions starts weighing on me.
As soon as we enter the house, I try to escape the consequences of my actions and escape to my room. But I have no such luck, as Enrique is quick to stop me.
"You don't believe your little display of defiance would go unpunished, did you?" He asks a detectable note of amusement in his tone.
Shit.
"Your mum wants to see you in the living room," he informs me before directing himself upstairs, probably to his own room.
'Great one more thing for me to deal with' I sigh but nevertheless mosey towards the living room to face the fury of the fire I fuelled.
That's when a daunting questions strike me, 'why did Enrique choose to investigate my theory if he didn't believe me?'
Author's note:
Hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Thanks for reading!
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~Kia