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SONG FOR THE CHAPTER
❝ Holoscene ❞ by Bon Iver
(Look for the "♡" symbol within the paragraphs and then play the song for the preferred start time)
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15 hours, 37 minutes and 24 seconds...
It's been nearly an entire day since I've seen Casper Collins. I would think that for the average person it's normal to miss someone after being away from them, but the mere thought of him is driving me crazy. Every time I close my eyes, I hear his laughter and guitar playing. Casper has gotten under my skin and wormed his way into my cold, black heart. Before I met him, I never knew what it was like to be able to look at someone and want to smile for no reason.
I'm standing by my bedroom windowsill, my phone clutched in one hand and the piece of sketchbook paper in the other. I've tried dialing Casper's number about 3 times now, all of which I have nervously hung up before the phone call went through. I don't even know what I would say to him.
How could I possibly think of something to say when I'm not supposed to be calling him in the first place? I told him that I wouldn't, now I'm debating whether or not I want to make a fool out of myself. I don't want him thinking that I want to be friends, but I'm skeptical of how long I can maintain that deceitful performance.
Actually, come to think of it, I once carried out a very good lie. When I was 8 years old, I was living with this foster family that had 3 other children in the household. One of them was this little boy named Billy Barnes. He used to sneak into my room at night and ask me to tell scary stories before bedtime.
I remember one night, in particular, I had packed my bags and decided to run away. I made it down to the Burger King across the street before I started crying and went back to the house. The next morning, Billy asked why I disappeared. I was afraid Billy would tell our foster parents and the police would send me to juvenile detention. Hence why I lied about the whole thing and told him that I had been abducted by aliens. To this day, Billy still doesn't know.
I chuckle to myself and shake my head. The bittersweet memory gives me hope I can pull off this ridiculous charade for a little longer. However, that begs the question: How do I casually initiate a conversation with someone I have a crush on? I glance down at my phone; the number on the screen stares back at me. I still can't bring myself to complete the call. My social awkwardness is sabotaging my attempt to bite the bullet and just fucking talk to him.
I groan loudly and stomp over to the mirror hanging above my dresser. Leaning my palms against the counter, I closely stare at my own reflection, "You're such a coward," I scold myself, "It's just a damn phone call..."
I back away from the dresser and pause for a moment. Tilting my head to the side, I look at myself from a different perspective. I wouldn't call myself ugly, but I wouldn't call myself beautiful either. I'm somewhere uncomfortably wedged between, like a cute moth that's not quite a butterfly but also isn't quite a caterpillar. At least I'm not completely a lost cause.
"Pfft," I remark, "This is no big deal... I got this."
Maybe I can make this work. I probably just need a little practice talking to boys. I clear my throat and straighten my posture. Once making eye contact with my reflection, I pretend like I'm on the phone with him.
"Oh! Hey, Casper," I say while rehearsing my lines, "I was just randomly thinking about you and I thought I'd give you a call..."
No... That sounds stupid, I think to myself with frustration. Maybe I should dial it back a bit...
I readjust my posture and narrow my eyes with a very unsuccessful attempt to look seductive and mysterious. I lower my tone of voice to sound cool, calm and collected. With a false sense of confidence, I prompt a question, "Hello, Casper... How are you feeling today?"
Great, now I sound like Pamela... I quickly realize that my conversation skills are rusty when it comes to basic interaction. I'm pretty sure my cell phone has cobwebs inside it. I take a deep breath and spew as many introduction phrases I can think of.
"Oh, my! I didn't realize this was your number," I mention with surprise.
Of course, you did! He gave it to you, dumbass.
"I had a dream about you the other night," I declare candidly.
Yeah, because hearing about your weird dream isn't going to freak him out!
"You're like those annoying pop songs I hear on the radio 10 times a day... I can't get you out of my head," I blab to myself like a cornball.
For fuck's sake, Chloe... You want to talk to him, not make him run for the hills!
I walk over to my bed and flop down on the mattress in defeat, "I'm fucking hopeless," I mutter under my breath.
Who knew that talking to boys was so hard? When it came to Gabe Parker, I never bothered to try since he was out of my league. But now that I'm putting efforts towards Casper... this is uncharted territory. If I ever want my dreams to come true, I have to swallow my pride and more importantly, stop acting like such a scardey-cat. I roll over on my back and stare at the ceiling, "You can do this," I encourage myself quietly.
I jump out of bed and march over to the mirror. After a few minutes of contemplative silence, I muster up the courage to speak one last time, "Hey, it's Chloe. What's up?"
Nailed it!
Before I get cold feet, I grab my phone and quickly dial his number. It's now or never. With my stomach in knots, I wait on the other end of the line. The dial tone carries out for a few seconds, but it feels like hours. I tap my foot anxiously and try to prepare myself for the conversation to come. Suddenly, the ringing stops and Casper answers the phone, "Hello?"
I don't say anything. I can't manage to utter a single word. I'm completely frozen as the phone is gripped in my hand. Apparently, the rehearsal didn't work whatsoever. I'm about to blow this whole thing! Why can't I just say something?
"Hello?" he repeats with emphasis. There's a brief moment of silence before he says, "Chloe?"
Shit! How'd he know it was me?
I start pacing back and forth across my room, "Oh! Um, yeah... Hey..."
"I didn't think you'd actually call," he admits with cheerful surprise.
"Stranger things have happened," I remark casually. I'm trying my best not to seem nervous but I think that's as convincing as Donald Trump's hairpiece.
There's a painfully long and awkward pause between us before he speaks, "So, what's up?"
"Uhh... Nothing, actually. But I just wanted to... Y'know, see if everything was cool- that you were doing okay, I mean," I bite my bottom lip and cringe internally at the sound of my own voice.
"Yeah, everything's cool," he replies without much thought.
I nod my head slowly, "Cool..."
He waits for a moment, "Yeah..."
I attempt to change the topic smoothly but instead, my question turns into a nervous stutter, "So, um... I actually wanted to say- I mean, ask you what you're doing later."
"I was thinking about riding my bike down to the beach," he tells me.
"Sounds like fun," I respond while trying not to make assumptions. I don't want to sound desperate and invite myself along with him.
"Yeah," he says.
We don't speak for a few seconds, I assume because it's my turn to say something. However, I don't have anything else to add to the conversation. The more I visualize the bored expression on his face, the more embarrassed I become. I gulp down a hard lump in my throat and hope that he rescues me from my own uncomfortable silence.
Despite the heavy tension, I'm almost sure he's smiling when he asks, "Want to come with me?"
I'm surprised but also relieved, "With you?"
"Yeah, if you're not doing anything," he replies casually.
"Yeah, I'm not doing anything," I repeat, then realizing that I sound like a cave echoing everything he says. This conversation couldn't get any more awkward.
"Great, I'll meet you there," he responds with a happy tone.
"What? Oh! Okay, yeah... See you later- I mean, see you sooner than later, so I'll just- nevermind..." I manage to spit out. Yup, this definitely got more awkward.
He chuckles, "Bye."
I clear my throat and try not to sound devastated by my social skills - or lack thereof, "Yeah, bye," I tell him quietly.
I hang up the phone call and squeeze the device in my hand. After pressing my back against the wall, I slowly slide down to the floor. I pull my knees up to my chest and sigh deeply. Surely, that conversation was more painful than poking yourself in the eye with a sharpened pencil. Why do I say the things that I do?
I don't know why I was so nervous. I've talked to him before, but somehow this time was... different. I can't place my finger on it; maybe it's because of that stupid dream. Ever since then, I've wanted to be around him more. I've tried so hard to keep my distance and convince myself that I want nothing to do with him. However, I find myself thinking about him more often than not. It's all so confusing.
My feelings for Casper make me behave against everything I believe in. I've never allowed anyone to get close to me before. There's something about him that makes me forget I want to be alone. Now here I am, putting on my old sneakers and getting ready to go bike riding with a boy that reminds me of sunshine.
I grab my scarf just in case the oceanside weather starts to cool down. Then I scurry downstairs and attempt to sneak by my foster parents. I don't want them to ask where I'm going because then we'll have an entire discussion about boys and helmet safety. They can't know about Casper. They destroy whatever good things I have in my life.
When I grab and twist the doorknob, Robert turns around the corner, "Where are you heading off to? Susan is making lunch," he tells me.
"I'm not hungry," I dispute.
He furrows his eyebrows, "You're always hungry..."
"I can't eat right now, I have to be somewhere," I explain briefly, my body halfway outside the front door. If I stand here too long, the truth might come out.
He investigates the situation, "Are you meeting someone?"
"Don't worry about it," I suggest, although it sounds more like a command.
"Chloe, I need to know-"
"Okay, bye!"
♡ I scramble outside and hop on my bicycle. Once I start peddling down the street, I veer around the corner towards the Gray Coastline. I travel down the winding roads with comfortable speed. The weather is perfect - not too hot for the middle of June. I can smell the salty air of the ocean wafting through the breeze as I come closer to the seashore.
Within a few minutes upon my arrival, I watch carefully as Casper drags his rickety red bike down the beach. He appears relaxed and joyful, as usual. I dismount from my bicycle seat and begin walking over toward him. He smiles and waves at me.
"Salutations!" he shouts cheerfully. With an excited grin on his face, he starts to meet within the distance between us.
"Hey," I respond plainly until I close the gap and stand before him. With a quick gesture, I rake my fingers through my tangled hair to make myself more presentable. Looking up into his gorgeous, green eyes, I can see the sheer delight in his expression.
I prop my bicycle on the stand and view the scenery around us. The morning sky is baby blue and the pale peach horizon above the ocean is beautiful. The waves today are calm - brushing against the sand like a shy painter. I'm warm from the sun but also cooled by the northern wind.
"So," he begins, "Where would you like to go?"
"It's up to you," I answer without much enthusiasm, "I don't really care."
Casper looks down at me and his mouth bends upwards, "I want to take you somewhere," he proposes with a gentle tone in his voice.
"That depends," I tell him, "Do you secretly have a white van parked around here?"
"Of course not," he clarifies before holding something to my face, "Hold on, does this smell like chloroform to you?"
"Very funny," I snort before I become curious what he's holding, "What's that?"
He opens the lump of fabric and reveals an article of clothing. I examine the old sweatshirt with threadbare material and faded color, "This is my favorite sweater but it shrunk down in the dryer, so it doesn't fit me anymore," Casper tells me, "There's actually a funny story behind why it was given to me."
I stare at him silently and wait for the story to unfold. However, his smile says more about the shabby item of clothing than his words ever could. While clutching the sweatshirt in his hands, he reminisces about the past.
"My family and I took a road trip to Riverbridge a few years ago for summer vacation," he recalls, "I was super excited because it would be the first time I had ever left Seabrooke. My parents told me to pack warm clothes but I didn't listen. I had checked the weather forecast and it said that the weather would be sunny.
When we arrived, it was raining cats and dogs. Our shoes were covered in mud and my t-shirt was soaked. For the first few days, we didn't leave the hotel. It was too cold outside to do the things we had planned.
My dad offered to take us to the restaurant down the street, but I was so grumpy that I didn't want to go. He left the hotel and I stayed inside to sulk in my pajamas. When he came back, he showed me that he had bought this sweatshirt at a thrift store close by. I said that someone's donated clothes couldn't make the trip any better.
Then he said something I could never forget: This is your Happy Sweater. He told me that if I put it on, it would make me feel all warm and fuzzy - kind of like what happiness does to your insides. When I put on the sweatshirt, I knew he was right. Then instead of visiting the beach as we had anticipated, we stayed in the hotel and watched our favorite movies.
That day I realized that life doesn't always go as planned, but you have to make the best of it."
After hearing his story, I want to smile. The more I learn about Casper, the more I understand why he is the way that he is. I've never met someone like him before. It's beautiful the way that he can find the good even in a bad situation. I wish I could do the same.
Casper hands me the sweatshirt, "Here, it's yours," he says.
My eyes widen in surprise, "What?"
"Like I said, it doesn't fit me anymore," he explains, "Besides, I figured that my Happy Sweater could help someone else. The best kind of joy is the kind that is shared with others."
"What makes you think I want your hand-me-downs?"
"Everyone wants to be happy," he insists.
I can't argue with that. I don't know how to respond without flat-out lying. I hesitate before reluctantly taking the sweatshirt from his hand. I hold the clothing in front of me and inspect it, "Red isn't really my color, if you haven't noticed," I mention to him.
He chuckles and shakes his head. Suddenly, the wind blows through our surroundings and hurls against us. My skin is prickled with the cold gust of wind and I squeeze my arms to retain warmth. I glance at Casper and he smirks.
"Are you cold?" he asks me.
"Not really," I reply.
His expression softens into something more serious, "Are you happy?"
I pause for a moment, thinking hard about my answer. Truth be told, I never am. However, I can't let Casper know that. Perhaps he already does - it's quite obvious. I shrug casually and dismiss the question. I really don't want to dwell on the topic.
"Put it on," he suggests.
"But I don't want-"
He doesn't interrupt me, but his penetrating gaze does. I sigh heavily and look at the sweatshirt. I wouldn't ever wear something like this. But then again, I wouldn't ever know what happiness feels like either. I surrender to my curiosity and carefully pull the sweatshirt over my head.
The soft and fuzzy fabric within the core of the sweatshirt hugs me close. The sleeves wrap around my arms and bring warmth the surface of my skin. The neckline hangs loose above my collarbones, making me unrestricted but secure. After a few minutes pass, I can feel the temperature rising in my chest. It's a subtle, tingly feeling that seems to be coming from within me. It's the most gentle and comfortable sensation I've had in a while.
Casper smiles, "Do you feel that?"
"Yeah," I respond quietly, "I think I do..."
"Hopefully, one day you can feel that without the Happy Sweater," he tells me with a gentle tone in his voice, "But for now, this should be good enough."
My eyes cast over towards the ocean. While staring out into the distance, the cold wind blows against me once again. However, this time I don't feel it. My new sweater is almost like a shield that protects me from my surroundings. I guess when you have internal happiness, your external problems don't really affect you.
Casper mounts his bicycle and looks over at me, "Okay, are you ready?"
I nod my head and sit down on my bicycle seat. We exchange glances and he smiles at me like he's never been so excited about anything before. Casper starts to pedal away and I follow behind him slowly, "Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise," he shouts as his bike begins to pick up speed.
The two of us journey down the beach playfully and peacefully. Our bicycle tires leave imprints in the wet sand behind us and interweave together like elegant cursive. The sound of the ocean fills my ears with that soothing music that I love almost as much as Casper's guitar playing. Whenever we are together, I can't imagine anywhere else I'd rather be. With the butterflies in my stomach and the warmth of my Happy Sweater, I continue to follow Casper to his surprise location.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
In a perfect world, I wouldn't have to go to work and school; I would just stay home all day, drink coffee and write till my heart's content. Unfortunately, that's not how life works. We have jobs and homework that needs our attention. If we're lucky, we can have some free time on the weekends to write some chapters for our book.
It's been hard balancing my typical responsibilities and still having enough time to dedicate to my writing. Considering the fact that I have two books (Bikes, Beaches and Afternoon Waffles and Howls Into The Void) it's stressful sometimes trying to figure out how to be productive and also remain committed towards both of my projects that I love so incredibly much.
They're coming along slowly but surely - I suppose all great things take time. I don't want to rush them into being completed. When they're published, I want them to be something I'm proud of. They are one of my dearest passions after all.
BBAAW is much easier to write in comparison to HITV. This book has shorter chapters and the plot is simple, unlike my other novel which is very complex and takes several weeks for a single chapter to be completed. I think that's why most of my focus has been going into this story as of recently.
Whenever I think about this book being finished, I get so excited. I can't wait to share it with others and gain an audience over time. I'm staying patient and waiting for the engaged readers to find this book.
Currently, BBAAW has 883 reads!
I'm so thankful and can't wait for more people to discover my story!
I will continue to show my appreciation to all of my readers. It's you that inspires me to improve my writing and continue chasing my dreams! My ultimate goal for writing has always been to entertain, relate, and connect with my readers.
Thank you for reading this chapter! There's much more to come!
Yours,
Paris
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《 Published November 25th, 2018 》
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