AN:: blaaah, I'm so sorry for the long wait on this update, I've been struggling with a bit of writers block :/ but I'm back on track now!! Let's hope it stays that way.
Also, I was thinking of doing a few chapters in Logan's perspective, and wanted to know what you all think about that? Please leave me your opinions in the comments! Xx
Thank you!
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Water rushed around me... Loud, swirling, crashing... The current forcefully ripped me under the foamy surface, dragging my flailing body across the rocky bed of sand below.
No matter how hard I fought, frantically thrashing my arms and legs about, I couldn't manage to burst back through the surface. My body flipped and spun around as the current propelled me further and further downstream.
My lungs felt as if they were shrivelng up, screaming at me to take a breath before my reflexes took over and did it for me...
My heart was pounding. I needed air...
Just as my body hitched to automatically inhale, I felt a hand reach down, plunging through the water and taking hold of my wrist.
"ANABELLE!!"
A distressed voice that I couldn't quite pinpoint shouted my name, echoing off into the distance...
Suddenly, there was no more water. Everything was calm and quiet... I found myself standing in a beautiful, luxurious foyer, underneath a stunning crystal chandelier and next to a huge, elegant wood stair case leading up and around the corner, into mystery.
As my eyes gazed about, I took in the high ceilings, sophisticated decorations and soft lighting of the large room... The space felt very warm and welcoming, as if it were safe to be there. This place was completely gorgeous...
But where the hell was I?
My feet seemed to propel forward on their own, slowly bringing me to a picture on the wall. I stared up at it, but couldn't quite get a good look at the photo inside the polished silver frame. It was as if there was a glare over the glass, but the chandelier wasn't bright enough to do that, and as I looked around behind me, I couldn't spot any windows allowing sunshine to leak in.
Slowly, my hand reached up to touch the glass of the picture...
"Ana."
I flinched and my hand snapped back, my head whirling around and slinging my long dark hair as I searched for someone standing around me. The long corridor was empty, though. I was definitely the only one there... Yet, it felt like there was a presence looming over me, watching my every move.
I slowly began to walk down the long, elegant hall, waiting for the voice to speak again. I was positive that it would.
"Anabelle..."
My footsteps stopped. It was that same damn voice I'd been hearing for days, bouncing off the walls inside my head.
"Hello?" My voice softly echoed out as I continued down the corridor.
"This way..."
The voice lured me down the hall a few more feet before speaking to me again.
"Here..."
My body automatically turned to my right, where a bookshelf promptly spun around, revealing a very futuristic elevator pod, basked in a white fluorescent glow.
I felt my eyes blink in astonishment as I cautiously leaned my upper body inside the elevator. Didn't this stuff only happen in 007 movies...? But before I knew it, I was sealed inside, and jolted into motion. Judging by the dropping feeling in my stomach, I assumed I was headed downstairs.
When the doors opened again, I stepped out into a hallway that matched the elevator: futuristic and fluorescent. It seemed to stretch on forever to my left, but to my right I could see an enormous, heavy duty metal door a few yards down.
"Ana..."
The mysterious whisper seemed to be emitting from behind the door... Something inside my mind could just tell. It beckoned me toward the huge barrier of steel, leaving me breathless as they smoothly slid open...
Before me was a room... An enormous space in the shape of a dome. The walls were completely metallic, shimmering from the light leaking in from the hall. My feet carried me through the door's threshold, and the metal plates slid shut behind me.
I was suspended on a platform, leading out a few feet to a control panel of some sort... But that was it. I peered down over the side of the platform and gulped... There was no floor in sight.
"Anabelle..."
I lifted my head up, and was surprised to see a man in a wheelchair sitting at the control panel with his back to me. I narrowed my eyes in confusion, searching the entire room for another entrance... But there were none.
I stared at the man in utter confusion. How did he get in here...?
Just as I began to open my mouth to speak to him and ask him that very question, he suddenly lifted his arms and placed a strange looking helmet over his bald head.
There was a long pause... Then suddenly, the entire room became engulfed in a red glow. I screamed, feeling the floor fall out from beneath me, but my voice was muted. I was suddenly swirling in a sea of red fog, littered with glowing white orbs that almost looked like stars.
A searing pain abruptly invaded my mind, but there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to scream, to move my arms and legs, but it was as if nothing of me existed anymore besides my mind...
I was nothing but a white orb floating through the red mist... Whispers of all sorts of different voices clouded my brain, growing louder and intensifying the pain.
But one voice was most persistent.
"Don't let it control you..."
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"Ana...!"
I woke up frantically to a shout of my name and a pair of hands constricting my shoulders.
Still mentally trapped in my dream, I gasped and thrashed about, the pain in my head still present.
"ANABELLE!" A deep voice screamed. My eyes were squeezed shut, but I could hear cabinet doors slamming and objects pelting the walls around me. The pair of hands gripped my shoulders tighter. "It's me! It's Logan!"
My eyes shot open, instantly taking in Logan's face in the darkness. Glancing behind him, I could see objects from the kitchen floating and twirling about near the front door, smacking against each other as if they were trapped in a tornado. The bathroom door was swinging on its hinges, and the cabinets In the kitchen clattered loudly as they opened and closed.
My breathing was heavy and rigid, and as I shot my gaze back to Logan's face, everything stopped. The pain ceased, and all the objects gripped by my out of control telekinesis instantly plummeted to the floor with a series of 'thud's... Except the digital clock, which whiplashed on its cord, snapping from the outlet in the wall and beaming Logan right in the middle of his forehead.
"OH MY GOD...!" I gasped loudly as Logan toppled backwards over the coffee table from the unexpected blow. "Logan!!"
I jumped up off the couch, forgetting about the fresh wound in my side and falling right back down in pain, grasping the bandage.
When Logan let out a groan, I immediately pushed my pain aside and rushed over to him.
"Holy shit, I am SO sorry...!" I desperately apologized as I knelt next to his dazed form laying sprawled on the floor. "I didn't mean to do that...!"
There was a black and blue bruise in the middle of Logan's forehead, right next to a cut with a bit of blood leaking from it. I started to get up to grab the first aide kit, but stopped when I noticed the cut had almost completely healed, only leaving behind the small drip of blood.
Slowly, Logan rose to a sitting position. As the bruise on his forehead faded away into nothing, he reached up and wiped the blood away, glancing at the red smear on his hand before turning his eyes on me and raising an eyebrow.
I stared at him for a moment in the dark. I had totally forgotten about his ability to heal.
"Are you okay...?" I peeped out meekly.
"I'll live.." Logan assured me in a low, husky voice, "I could ask you the same thing. You havin' a nightmare?"
I sighed, reaching up to touch my hair, which was still gross and matted from my super fun adventure the day before. I made a face, wishing I wasn't sitting in front of Logan looking like this... But it couldn't be helped.
"Um... sort of..." I muttered in response, "It didn't start out that way... Did I wake you up?"
Logan stood up, reaching his arm out to help me up. I grasped his hand, trying to fight off a blush as I carefully stood and ignored the pinching feeling in my bandaged side.
"I was already awake." He admitted with a small shrug, "Having trouble sleeping for some reason... I heard you mumbling in your sleep, and when shit started defying gravity, I figured something was wrong."
As Logan spoke he began picking up the random items laying around the camper and put them back in their rightful places.
"I'm sorry..." I groaned another apology as I sat back down on the couch, "It's never been this bad before... Ever since last night, my telekinesis just... Spikes."
"Wasn't it already doing that?" Logan asked me from the kitchen where he was putting the last items away.
"No, I mean... Spiking really bad. You just saw it happen." I said to him, and he made his way back over, taking a seat on the couch next to me. "That's how I got out of that cave. My telekinesis spiked... And I was just in the right place at the right time."
"Well it saved your life... So it can't be all bad." Logan murmured back.
I shrugged. I guess he was right... But honestly, it was that voice that saved my life, or at least pushed me to save my own.
"I just wish I had it under control..." I sighed while staring off at nothing.
There was a long pause between us, before Logan piped up, completely changing the subject away from my mutation.
"You up for a personal question...?" His voice was soft, just above a whisper.
My stomach jumped a little, caught off guard by his request. I thought it over for a moment, wondering what he wanted to ask me, then turned to look at him. His eyes looked glassy and sleep deprived... Almost troubled.
"Sure." I complied with a nod, trying to hide the nervousness in my voice with a tired smile. "Go for it."
Logan seemed like he was sorting through his thoughts as I awaited the personal question, his expression serious. Finally, his voice broke the air.
"... How did you get those scars on your back?"
At the sound of his words, my breath hitched in my lungs. If I would have been drinking something, I definitely would have choked... I wasn't expecting a question quite that personal.
Instantly, I ripped my eyes away from Logan, staring at the coffee table intently. How had he seen them...? I hardly even remembered them half the time, which is how I preferred it.
"When I came down to check on you, you were laying on your stomach..." Logan began to explain, as if he had read my thoughts. "Your shirt was bunched up a little, and..."
His voice trailed off, and my cheeks burned red in embarrassment as I kept my eyes forward. Was I ready to talk about my past...?
"... Too personal?" Logan asked, and I stole a glance at his searching eyes.
My expressions and feelings must have been so readable to him. I wanted to reply, but I only stammered and struggled for my words.
"Hey, Anabelle..." Logan whispered, unexpectedly reaching his hand over and resting it on my shoulder. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I know it's really none of my business... I just saw them and-"
"My step-dad," I blurted out, cutting Logan's sentence short. My voice dropped to a whisper as I finished my thought, "... The scars are from my step-dad..."
I don't know why, but I was embarrassed. I could feel Logan's eyes cast down on me, but I didn't have the nerve to look back up at him.
"Your step-dad...?" Logan repeated almost inaudibly.
I nodded and picked at a loose thread in the couch.
"Yea... He would, uh... Get drunk and the smallest things would set him off... The cable going out, the phone ringing too much... Usually, no matter what the problem was, he would find any reason to make it my fault. And then..." I explained, and my voice began to tremble in emotion.
"He hit you..." Logan growled, finishing my thought for me. I tried not to focus on the simmering anger in his voice.
I still wasn't able to bring myself to look at him. These were my deepest, darkest secrets being revealed, and I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about it... But Logan was the only person on this planet that I trusted, so if I couldn't tell him, then who could I tell?
"Yea... He did..." I said, still pulling at that loose thread, "He... He usually used his belt, but sometimes he made me go in the backyard and break a branch off a tree for him to use."
Finally, I glanced upward. Logan was staring across the room as he listened to my story, his eyes searing with fury. He didn't say anything, but looked back down at me with a pressing expression.
"... Ana..." He spoke slowly, peering deep into my eyes and searching for answers, "Did he ever... Touch you?"
I knew that his second question broke the one per day rule, but I dismissed it.
I shook my head, thanking God I could at least answer no to that question. If Troy would have ever done that to me, I guarantee he would have been dead a lot sooner.
"No." I replied, "He tried once, the night I left home... He had me pinned in the kitchen... But he was so drunk, I just..."
I paused, taking in Logan's apparent anger. His dark eyebrows were furrowed, and his scruffy mouth was upturned in a scowl. As he huffed breaths in and out, I could see a vein bulging and throbbing in his neck. I hung back with the ending of my story.
"Logan...? What's wrong?"
"Just thinking about some pervert mother fucker putting his hands all over you makes me sick... " Logan rumbled back to me, his voice low and menacing. "Scum like that doesn't deserve to walk this Earth."
"He doesn't." I stated, feeling my stomach churn at what I was about to say, "... I killed him..."
Logan's head snapped, his eyes narrow and puzzled as he stared at me. I flipped my trembling palms over, holding them out in front of me for Logan to see. Scars similar to the thin lash marks on my back jaggedly lined my palms... They had been left there from the razor sharp glass shards that my hands fell victim to the night I had killed Troy.
"These scars on my hands are from when I..." I mumbled nervously, caught off guard as Logan reached out and gently grasped both my fragile hands in his strong masculine ones.
We were both silent as Logan peered at the jagged scars on my palms. My stomach fluttered and a chill ran up my spine as he traced over the scars on either palm with his thumbs. As he did this, I peered into his face. He was starting downward with intense eyes, obviously deep in thought.
Before I could say anything else, Logan completely surprised me by abruptly pulling me into an embrace. My entire body tensed up at the feeling of his bare arms wrapped around me, pressing me gently into the rock hard muscles of his chest and torso. My heart was pounding intensely, and just like always, my cheeks felt like they might melt from the blush spreading over them.
But as I inhaled Logan's scent, resting my cheek against his gray tank top, a wave of comfort washed over me. I felt my muscles melt into him, and I closed my eyes as the surprised, tense feeling passed.
"I won't ever let anyone hurt you again, Ana.. ." Logan whispered to me, sending chills up and down my spine, "I'll protect you."
I didn't say anything, just nodded my head ever so slightly. My entire life, I had never believed in anyone, not even myself.
But sitting there, just the two of us in the darkness of the camper... All my faith was in Logan.
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3 weeks later...
"Ana, do me a favor and run back over to the cold section real quick, I forgot the cheese."
Logan and I were strolling through a Sweetbay grocery store, restocking on food and some other things we needed in the camper.
I nodded an 'okay' to him as I left him in the shampoo aisle, making my way across the store to the cold foods. It was a Monday afternoon around one o'clock, so the store was practically empty. I'd only spotted two or three other customers browsing around besides the two of us.
I hummed along to the faint song playing on the store's intercom: Drops of Jupiter by Train, while I briskly browsed the dairy aisle up and down, scanning for the brand of provolone Logan usually grabbed.
Finally my eyes caught the bright red packaging, but it was all the way on the top shelf... My hand instinctively reached up to try and snatch it, but it was a good three or four inches out of my grasp. I strained and stretched a little, giving up with a frustrated huff after a second or two. As I stared up at the package, a lightbulb clicked on inside my head.
I turned my gaze over my right shoulder, scanning the aisles behind me for any customers or lingering store clerks.
No one was around in this part of the store except me... Just how I wanted it. I turned my eyes back up to the package of provolone cheese, zeroing in and coaxing my mind to take control. It wobbled a bit, just about to lift away from the metal hook it was dangling on, when the sudden sound of rickety shopping cart wheels stole my focus.
The package halted as I whipped my head around to see who was approaching, hoping they hadn't seen anything. My lungs exhaled a soft sigh of relief as I realized it was just an elderly woman, too busy trying to simultaneously steer her cart and peer at her shopping list to notice me.
She turned down the canned soup aisle, and I waited until the scooting sound of the wheels faded a bit before turning back to the task at hand: Operation Retrieve Cheese. This time, I tried to work a little faster, tilting my head of dark hair to the side as I concentrated.
A smile curved my lips as the package sailed smoothly into my awaiting palms.
Over the past few weeks, I'd gotten a lot better at handling my telekinesis. I was no where near perfect, but my practice had definitely paid off. It was sort of like a muscle, in a way... You had to work it out.
Logan had even bought me a small set of weights ranging from 1 pound up to 15 for me to practice lifting. At first, even the smallest ones were a struggle, but by now I could easily move the ones that weighed 9 and 10 pounds.
I had also found a brand new Frisbee just laying in the grass in one of the many campsites we passed through, and now we used it quite often. I was getting pretty good at only using my mind to fling and catch the plastic toy, but like I said before... No where near perfect. A tiny purple bruise beneath my left eye proved that.
I peered down each aisle as I hurried back through the store, finally spotting Logan at the end of the junk food aisle. I turned on my heel, tossing the cheese into the cart as I approached him.
"Special delivery." I joked with a grin.
"That was quick." Logan replied as he glanced at the cheese, then at me, then at the display of chips in front of him.
They were buy one get one free so Logan loyally selected BBQ, then told me to pick another flavor. While he traveled down a few feet with the cart, I scanned all the different varieties of chips I had to choose from.
Original, Salt and Vinegar, Ranch... Then my eyes seeked out the orange bag labeled Cheddar and Sour Cream, one of my favorites. My mind was made up, so I grabbed the bag off the shelf. It crinkled in my fingers as I walked back to Logan, who was dropping two family size boxes of Cosmic Brownies into the cart.
"That should hold ya for a while." Logan told me with a smirk as he wheeled the cart around the corner, "Sugar fiend."
"It's a serious addiction." I responded casually with a shrug.
"Maybe I should stage an intervention." He played along with the joke as we strolled over to one of the cashiers.
He was a skinny teen with curly brown hair and glasses, and he didn't say a word as he began scanning the items from our cart that Logan and I loaded mechanically onto the belt.
I noticed the boy occasionally stealing glances at me, his cheeks turning a rosey shade of pink. I could tell by the way that his shoulders were defensively hunched up toward his ears that he was shy, worse than I was. So, I flashed him a small, friendly smile before glancing up at Logan. He was lugging a case of root beer from the cart, slinging it up on the belt.
"I got two of these." He informed the cashier, who fumbled for the handheld scanner and zapped the 12 pack's barcode twice.
As Logan pulled the case of soda back off the belt, he flashed the boy a stiff nod and a halfway friendly smile.
I continued to load the last few items onto the belt, and noticed that the boy was keeping his gaze down. Poor guy, Logan must have freaked him out... I couldn't really blame him, though. Logan was pretty intimidating if you didn't know him.
When the cart was empty, I leaned against the metal casing of the conveyer belt, taking a look up at the store's red, white and blue star decorations. They made me smile, a happy reminder that my favorite holiday was just around the corner.
"You ready, Ana?" Logan's voice brought my attention back to Earth, and when I glanced over at him, he was grabbing his change from the cashier.
"Yup."
I pushed myself off the conveyer belt, then followed behind Logan as he wheeled the cart out into the parking lot. The town we had decided to stop in for a while was a pleasant little town somewhere in Georgia called Tybee Island. It was a quaint, friendly places where all the residents seemed to know each other, but visitors were clearly welcomed with open arms.
The air basking inward through town was mild and comfortable, coming straight from the Savannah River's white, sandy beach just a mile or two away. It smothered the sun's searing summer rays, making the day absolutely perfect.
"That kid had a thing for ya." Logan teased me as we wheeled up to the truck, parked all the it's lonesome under a shady tree in the corner of the lot.
"Who, the cashier?" I asked as he unlocked the doors, and I began passing him the bags from the cart. "Nah. He was just a little shy...it was sweet."
But Logan only gave me a look and shook his head as he loaded the cab with our groceries.
"He was definitely diggin' you, Ana," He insisted, "Kid's face was red as a tomato... It was probably those big blue eyes that caught his attention."
Now it was my face that was red as a tomato. I had never been good at taking compliments, and it certainly wasn't any easier when they were coming from Logan.
From him, even the smallest compliment like 'your hair looks nice today, Ana.' sent me over the moon.
"Why are you blushing?" Logan asked with a smirk as he turned around to grab another bag. "What, I can't think you have pretty eyes?"
Oh, yea... And now he was beginning to call me out when I started into my bashful, blushing fits...
"I-I'm not blushing...!" I quickly defended, "It's just the sun."
But judging by the playful grin and raised eyebrow on Logan's face, I could tell he knew I was lying. Oh well, wouldn't stop me from doing it.
"All right, that's everything." He announced as he loaded the last of the groceries into the cab of the trusty old truck. "Let's get goin'. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
"Yea, I'm pretty hungry." I called back over to him as I rounded the camper and opened the passenger side door.
Logan already had the engine started by the time I climbed into my seat, and was holding his truck's cigarette lighter to the end of a fresh cigar. As I shut my door and pulled on my seat belt, I inhaled the sweet, smokey smell... Some people might think the smell was overwhelming or intolerable, but it actually calmed me.
When the end of the cigar was glowing cherry red, Logan clamped his lips shut to keep it from going anywhere, and clicked the lighter back into its tiny slot.
"You like spaghetti?" He asked me while rolling the windows down, allowing the wispy smoke to drift out from the cab.
I nodded and made a hum of approval, leaning my elbow against the open window and enjoying the soft caress of the breeze against my sun kissed cheeks.
"Good, me too." Logan responded as he steered the truck out of the parking lot and into the street, heading for a red light. "I've been craving it for a while now."
As we pulled to an idling stop at the red light, I peered at my reflection in the side mirror. We'd been hunkered down in this little beachside village for almost a week now, so my skin had a much deeper bronze glow than usual. If my blue eyes didn't stand out enough already, the tan amplified them even more, and my lack of make up that day seemed to make them look bigger.
My hair began to whip around wildly as the truck accelerated from the red light and picked up speed. It didn't take long for me to get tired of trying to tame it, pointlessly smoothing the strands back or tucking them behind my ears, so I yanked a hair tie from my wrist and did my best to tie it up in a bun.
With my vision free, I sat back and enjoyed the town passing by. Families with children were walking the sidewalks lined with cozy little shops and restaurants, young couples sat on shaded benches holding hands... Everyone seemed so happy and carefree.
"Can I turn on the radio?" I asked as I turned away from the window.
Before Logan answered me, he took a long puff off his cigar, squinting his eyes as he tasted the smoke. His left arm was resting against the open driver's side window, and he effortlessly controlled the wheel with just his thumb... We were only going in a straight line, so I guess it couldn't have been that hard.
He used his right hand to reach up and pluck the cigar from his scruffy lips, and I felt a bubbly feeling tug at the pit of my stomach as I admired his masculine, chizzled facial features, and the way his snug black t-shirt hugged the muscles of his biceps for about the millionth time...
"You know you don't have to ask." Logan reminded me, making me feel a little sheepish under his sincere Hazel eyes. "Just none of that computer techno music... Shit drives me up the wall."
I laughed and rolled my eyes as I leaned forward in my seat and reached for the radio dial. I flipped through the stations, finally settling on 93.3, a rock station. All I Want by A Day to Remember had just started playing, causing my head to automatically start bobbing with the beat.
When I sat back in my seat, I began rustling through the plastic grocery bags, looking for one of the boxes of Cosmic Brownies. My eyes lit up as I spotted the light blue cardboard packaging, and I heard Logan chuckle as I started to rip the top of the box open.
"You really are addicted." He said with a shake of his head and a smirk.
Even though he was looking out the windshield and not at me, I shot him a playful glare as I bit into the soft, chewy hunk of chocolate heaven.
"... All right, gimme one." Logan blurted out after a few seconds, clamping his cigar in his lips and holding his palm out.
I instantly turned my eyes up to look at him, raising an eyebrow. Just a week ago, he had seen how wired the Cosmic Brownies made me, and swore I was crazy for eating them.
"Aah, coming to the dark side, are you?" I teased him while reaching into the box, pulling out another individually wrapped brownie and slapping it into his awaiting palm.
"Yup," Logan muttered a reply, stubbing out his half smoked cigar and resting it in the ash tray for the time being, "You reeled me in."
I giggled between chews as he ripped the plastic from the small chocolate pastry with his teeth, then took a big chomp of a bite.
His eyebrows raised as he chewed for a second, swallowed, then turned to look at me.
"Not bad." Logan admitted, sounding a little impressed. He popped the last bite into his mouth, chewing slowly. "They're pretty rich, though. Damn."
"I tried to tell you they were good!" I exclaimed as I finished off my brownie as well, crumpling up the wrapper and stuffing it into the truck's 'trash box', which was an empty root beer 12 pack case.
Logan smiled my way, making my heart melt without even realizing it, before staring back out through the windshield.
Throughout these past few weeks, it felt like there had been some sort of emotion conjuring and festering deep in the caves of my mind and the pit of my heart... But it only made itself known in wavering bursts when I looked at Logan for too long, or when he smiled at me that way or teased me... I didn't know what to make of it.
Part of me wanted to call it a crush, but most of me thought that was just plain silly. Grown women didn't have crushes on grown men. That was something that applied to middle schoolers, maybe teenagers in high school... But I confused myself, because if what I was feeling wasn't a crush, then what the hell was it?
Maybe it was simply the fact that Logan was the first man I'd ever really been around since my last sort-of boyfriend, Wes, when I was 21... Right about the time my mother and snake of a stepfather wrapped their fingers around my life, starting to slowly wring everything meaninful out of it.
I tried not to focus on the horrible memories of my life back home in Oregon, and instead concentrated on the view passing by outside my window.
The town was fairly small, and we were already trailing toward the outskirts and into the more rural area.
Out across a field of tall, swaying grass, I could see the edge of the beach, and a large boardwalk littered with town residents zipped by. As the field of grass, as well as the beach goers thinned out, the truck drove down a blank stretch before passing an abandoned, boarded up church. Gradually, we headed into an elegant tunnel of weepy willow trees.
I knew we were getting close to our secret 'spot'. So close, I could hear the luscious waves lapping at the sandy shore, even over the sound of the truck's tires scraping against the crumbly pavement below. Soon enough, Logan veered the truck off to the right a little, slipping through a gap in the willows that was barely noticeable unless you were really searching for it. This path led out into the beachy forest, the trees becoming a gorgeous mix of tall Pines and the ashy green willows.
The clearing we called our own for now came into view, looking amazing as ever. It was the perfect little rounded out thicket in the trees, just the right amount of space for the truck, our wicker chairs and a campfire, which was already set up in a ring of stones. The ground was sturdy, packed in sand and fallen pine needles.
And then, my favorite part of it all, was a patch of tall grass, a sandy path cutting through it, straight to the beach on the other side. I had never been so close to the water in my life, so I was definitely taking advantage of it... Hence my golden tan.
Logan whipped the truck into its proper spot, with the camper's window facing the beach. Then, he rolled the windows up, and shut off the engine.
Somehow, he managed to pop the door open with his elbow, and all the grocery bags gathered in his hands.
"Time to get cookin'!" He said excitedly, before hopping out of the cab and slamming the creaky old door shut with the heel of his boot.
I rolled my eyes and smiled as I jarred my own door, and slipped out into the fresh air. If there was one thing Logan got excited about, it was food. Well, food and beer. And cigars.
While Logan was busy setting up what he needed to cook the pasta for lunch, I took it upon myself to casually stroll out past the willows and the pines, through the tall grass and out onto the sand. A smile instantly tugged my lips upward as I took in the sight of the crystal clear river, the sea foam green water rhythmically lapping at the shore.
I looked to my left and right as a calm breeze whispered through, combing my hair off my shoulders. There wasn't a soul in sight in either direction, which added to peace and tranquility of it all.
The sun was high in the sky, casting down its happy yellow rays with not a single cloud to get in its way. I closed my eyes and took in the feeling of my face and exposed shoulders being warmed gently. If I could, I would have stayed there forever, in that exact spot. I knew Logan and I were nomads, though, and we wouldn't be here for more than another week. We never stayed in one place for too long.
So, I was enjoying every minute while I could.
I stood there taking in the natural beauty for what only seemed like a few minutes, but must have been much longer, because before I knew it I heard Logan calling out for me.
"Ana!" His deep voice rang out from behind the tall grass. "Spaghetti!"
My stomach suddenly felt empty, growling and rumbling as the smell of garlic and tomato sauce faintly began wafting out to me. I turned on the heel of my black converse low tops, digging a crater in the sand as I hurried back to our little camp.
Logan was huddled by the campfire, where he had suspended two small cooking pots over the flames; one for the pasta and one for the tomato sauce. He had two green plastic bowls set out, and looked up from labeling the sauce over the pasta as I approached him.
"There you are. You really like the beach, huh?" He said as I took a seat, and he handed me one of the green bowls, along with a fork and a cold root beer. He had all the bases covered.
A huge smile plastered onto my face as I tucked a long strand of hair behind my ear and twirled my fork into my spaghetti.
"Yea... I've never been to a beach, ever. I lived in Oregon my entire life, and my family never had the money to go anywhere fun." I explained, taking the first saucy bite of pasta.
It tasted amazing, hot and savory and full of the flavors of tomato, oregano and garlic. I made a hum of satisfaction as I chewed slowly, then took another bite.
We were quiet for a little while, just enjoying the mild weather and the soothing sound of the water just a few feet away from us.
"You should let me cook something for you, one of these days." I piped up as I stabbed my fork into the noodles and spun it around.
Logan was already finished with his first bowl of spaghetti and was filling up his second, raising his eyebrows at me.
"You never told me you knew how to cook." He replied, sounding interested. He scooped up a fork full of noodles, blowing on them before biting into them.
"You never asked." was my innocent response, along with a shrug. "I can cook lots of things... Tacos, chicken, casseroles... I sorta did most of the cooking growing up."
Logan looked at me, making a face and nodding his head as if he were impressed.
"I'll have to hold you to that offer." He stated before munching down another bite of pasta.
I finished my first bowl and filled another, only about halfway, and I still couldn't finish it all.
"Whew, I am stuffed." I announced, standing up and patting my stomach. "That was really good, Logan. Thanks."
"No problem." Logan said back, finishing off his second helping of spaghetti.
I stepped around his chair and made my way toward the camper so I could wash my bowl, but something jutting out of the sand suddenly caught my shoe. I lurched forward, fumbling the saucy bowl in my hand. I was able to catch it... Upside down. Red sauce flung all across my green tank top and my arms, and some even clung to the ends of my hair.
"Aaah man...!" I hissed, and turned around to show Logan, my face scrunched up in disgust.
He took one look at my clothes, then at my face, and couldn't fight back the laughter. I rolled my eyes, but a grin forced itself onto my face as I scolded him for laughing at me, speaking between my own giggles.
"Now I need another shower..." I sighed when my giggles finally died away, holding the hem of my tank top away from my body and peering down at it.
"... I have a better idea." Logan objected after a short pause.
My face was puzzled as I lifted my head to look at him, but when I saw his devilish grin, I instantly knew what he was thinking. My eyes widened and I quickly turned and dashed for the camper, but I wasn't fast enough.
I let out a squeal as Logan's strong arms wrapped around my middle, sweeping me up off the ground like I weighed nothing. Before I knew it, I was tossed over his shoulder and watching the ground rush by as he made his way toward the water.
"Logan!!" I shrieked in protest, struggling against his grip.
"There's no point in struggling, I'm already halfway there!" Logan laughed back at my girly screams. "Plus, if you go inside, you'll just get sauce all over the camper."
I could tell that this was just an excuse to toss me in the water, and he was having way too much fun with it.
Before I could say anything else though, Logan trumped out into the waves and dove underneath the surface, dunking us both into the cool, refreshing water. I sat under the surface for a second, enjoying the feeling of the soft flow of the gentle current combing through my hair. When I popped back up, Logan was already waiting. His wavy brown hair was now slicked back away from his face, the droplets of water catching the sun just right on his cheeks.
"Much easier than a shower, right?" He asked me, his tone playful.
I gave him a joking glare before slinging my hand across the top of the water, catching him completely off guard with a splash. He spat out a mouthful of water as I burst into giggles, then raised his eyebrows at me.
"Oh, that's the game you wanna play?" He asked as a grin formed on his face, "I can play that game."
I gasped as he sent a giant wave my way, soaking my hair all over again.
I retaliated with two splashes in a row, one from each hand, and this set off an all out splash war.
After about twenty minutes or so, we tuckered ourselves out and just settled into the water, floating about in all our clothes, enjoying the gentle flow of the waves and chatting about nothing.
All my life I'd never known what true paradise was... But as I sat there in the crystal clear Savannah River with Logan... I was sure right there had to be pretty close.
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To be continued...