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SONG FOR THE CHAPTER
❝ From Eden ❞ by Hozier
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I turn around begrudgingly, my face scrunched up in awkward discomfort. With a precarious hand, I return the gesture and briefly wave at him. I was trying my best not to seem friendly, but clearly, my efforts were ignored. The boy took that as an invitation that prompted him to start walking over towards me with those same bouncy steps I hate so much.
"Well, well, well... What do we have here?" he eagerly investigates the situation with a smile big enough to put a Teletubby to shame, "I have never seen anyone out here on The Gray Coastline."
Fortunately, neither have I... Until now... I think to myself with disdain.
Without much consideration, my eyes narrow with irritation. I like to think this is just a survival technique like the animal instincts of wildlife. I would compare my social habits to that of a porcupine, similar to how they raise their quills and rattle the hollow ones at the end of its tail to ward off predators. I try to keep myself from annoying interactions from complete strangers... or anyone for that matter.
But despite my attempts of intimidation, the boy is adamant at maintaining the conversation. He props his hands on his hips and tilts his head with curiosity, "This is quite the surprise," he comments joyfully, "Do you come here often?"
I shrug.
"Do you live close by?" he asks, "Are you from the neighborhood?"
I shrug again.
"You don't talk much, do you?" he observes lightly, he seems amused.
Why the hell does he seem amused? I wonder while suddenly becoming aggravated, I'm using all my tricks. I've tried resting bitch face, I've tried ignoring him, why hasn't he given up by now?
The expression on his face is cheerful and oddly relaxed. I've only seen people look that way after smoking a huge doobie. Even though I haven't been nice towards him in the slightest, he's somehow still smiling. I can't imagine why he is so interested in someone like me. Maybe he's just being polite, or maybe he's just bored. I don't know what to make of it.
"I like your band logo on your t-shirt," he compliments, "Hozier is one of my favorite artists. I went to one of his concerts awhile ago. I think it's cool that the acoustics and voice in his live performance sound just like the version of the songs on his album."
I assume he's being sincere and not just making small talk. In all honesty, I am quite impressed that we share similar opinions on music artists. I haven't met anyone that prefers indie-folk musicians that don't smother their songs with auto-tune. I nearly find myself growing interested in this boy until I hinder my curiosity with an internal intervention.
Chloe, you're walking on thin ice here... Cute boys lead to talking, talking leads to conversation, conversation leads to a shit ton of trouble. You don't want a shit ton of trouble now, do you?
I can hardly endure the mixture of my social anxiety and the painful hypocrisy behind this interaction. What makes matters worse is the fact this really cute guy is staring at me and waiting for me to say something.
What the hell am I supposed to say?
He's friendly, super attractive, and has the same taste in music as me. That's terrifying. Actually, that's completely dangerous. I can't allow myself to fall susceptible to his tricks. I refuse to admire his curly hair, and his strong biceps, and his gorgeous smile that's the perfect representation of a Colgate commercial...
Wait a minute! I think to myself, interrupting my train of thought, What the fuck do I think I am doing? This is getting out of hand...
I struggle to defend my lack of enthusiasm. With a gesture that proves my indifference, I respond by rolling my eyes and crossing my arms over my chest. The boy, however, doesn't seem the least bit concerned with my impassive behavior. Jesus, can't this guy take a hint?
With a sudden change in his expression, he furrows his brows and skews his mouth to the side. He points his finger at me casually, "You have a spider on your shoulder."
I quickly and repeatedly swipe my hand across my shoulder, trying to sweep the spider off my body, "What?!" I shriek, "Where?! Get it off me!"
He grins widely and springs into a fit of gleeful laughter, "So the fair maiden does speak after all!" he announces, sounding pleased with himself.
Once I realize there really is no spider, I glare at him. What a clever ploy to get me to talk to him. I clench my teeth together and fold my arms again, "My name isn't fair maiden," I retort bitterly, "It's Chloe..."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Chloe," he says with a cheeky smirk, "I'm Casper Collins."
He sticks out his hand for a friendly gesture of introduction. I glance down at his hand and then back to him, ignoring the signal completely. He shakes his head, his curly ringlets bounce loosely and hang down over his eyes. He puts his hands deep in his pockets, his arms close to his sides.
Somehow he's not discouraged by my lack of reception. With a steady gaze, he continues to smile at me. It was almost as if he was actually enjoying my company. I can't tell if it's confidence, arrogance, or just pure determination to be an extrovert.
Without showing any sense of dismay, Casper changes the topic, "So, I think it's safe to assume you're scared of spiders."
I sneer at him, "Yeah, so?"
"It's no big deal, I understand. I'm scared of spiders too," he admits nonchalantly, "I'm also scared of clowns, finding strange hair in my food, the Bubonic Plague, expired milk, and people with unnecessarily long fingernails," he pauses, "Oh! And zombies."
I arch a brow at him incredulously, "Zombies eat brains..." I mention, "Don't worry, you're safe."
He completely disregards the insult and chuckles, "You're funny," he says to me.
"I'm not funny," I remark, "I'm just mean and people think I'm joking."
Casper looks at me in a way that almost made my heart skip a beat, "You're straightforward. Quite frankly, I think it's endearing."
My complete and utter lack of social awareness leads me to wonder if he's flirting with me. I can't tell and honestly, even if he was, I would suppose it's nothing personal. I think he's just a ladies' man. He has looks that could kill and I wouldn't doubt that he has girls lined up outside his door waiting to cook his dinner and polish his shoes. The last thing I want to be is another one of his gullible victims that fall for his witty banter and charming smile.
Much to my chagrin, I know I have fallen in too deep to walk away. It's similar to the guilty feeling when you're watching your favorite Netflix show at 2 AM and you tell yourself I need to stop, only to click on the next episode. Yeah, I'm hopeless. We've already passed the introduction phase, there's no turning back now.
"Everybody knows everybody in this town," he says, "It's odd that I've never met you before. What neighborhood do you live in?"
"The one with the houses," I reply curtly.
"What school do you go to?"
"The one with the teachers."
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
I nearly choke after being caught off guard by the question. My eyebrows raise in surprise and my cheeks are flushed. I think my embarrassment is apparent. I don't know how to respond.
"That's a very personal question," I declare while avoiding the obvious answer, "You can't just ask random girls you just met if they have boyfriends!"
His eyes cast down to his feet and he chuckles, "You're right, I'm sorry."
I clear my throat, "Jeez, you're pretty invasive."
He shrugs his shoulders, "My neighbor's diary says that I have boundary issues."
If I wasn't so uncomfortable, there's a slight chance I may have laughed. But I know better than to encourage him. I can't deny that he is adorable. However, I also can't let him know that I think that. Hell will freeze over before I actually allow myself to become friends with anyone.
My mind is reelings with things I want to say but I refuse to say them. I press my lips together and glance away towards the ocean. I distract myself with thoughts about food and future books I want to read. But the thoughts become harder to grasp while knowing that he is looking at me.
Fuck, why is he looking at me?
Suddenly, it's as if there's word vomit. Without thinking twice, I say, "Do you have a girlfriend?"
I want to slap myself across the face.
Why the hell would I ask him that? Of course, he has a girlfriend! She's probably a tall, sexy cheerleader named Jessica with big boobs and a belly button ring! Dammit, I'm such an idiot!
He smiles, "No, I don't."
My attention snaps back to him and I furrow my brows, "What?"
He leans in closer towards me and repeats himself with a tone of voice that makes my legs feel like spaghetti, "I said no, I don't have a girlfriend."
Although he didn't say it, by the way he is looking at me, his eyes tell me but you could change that. I cringe at the thought. At this moment I don't know what to do and it's awkward, like when your relatives are singing happy birthday to you and you just have to stand there silently and wait for the song to be finished.
His lips are curved into this playful smile. It makes me wonder if he's aware that he's made my stomach do a triple somersault. I stand there silently and wait for my heart to stop beating so fast. There's this weird tingling feeling under my skin and my throat is dry. I'm hoping that I can be discreet about how nervous he makes me.
I try to play it cool, "That's good," I reply before realizing how stupid that sounds, "I mean- Um, it's whatever... Like I don't really care if you- I shouldn't- Erm, yeah..."
I start fidgeting and nervously tuck my hair behind my ear. My eyes dart away with a desperate attempt to escape his gaze. I try to regain my composure after that humiliating display of my social awkwardness. Good job, Chloe...
With the same amused expression he maintains, Casper speaks candidly, "You seem nervous."
My eyes widen as large as golf balls at the fact he just pointed out the elephant in the room. Isn't the universal rule not to point out the fucking elephant in the room? I gulp tensely in what feels like swallowing a big pill with no water. All my hard work to maintain my nonchalance is being flushed down the toilet.
I respond blankly, "What? Don't be ridiculous."
The edges of his lips curl upwards into a wide, cheeky grin, "You're blushing."
I scoff, "No, I'm not."
Reaching for a strand of my hair, I begin to idly twirl it around my finger. I bite down on my lower lip, staring down at the ground to avoid eye contact. After a few seconds pass of complete silence, I glance up at Casper through my eyelashes.
He cocks his head to the side, "Then why are you fidgeting with your hair? And biting your lip? And being so adorably nervous?" he chuckles softly, "Do I make you nervous?"
The poor bastard is torturing me. He knows exactly what he is doing to me and I think he's actually enjoying it. For someone that comes across as so polite, he can sure be impish. It's at times like this I wish that I was a turtle, so I could retract and hide inside my shell. Instead, I divert from the topic and scowl at him, "That's a stupid question," I say angrily.
"There are no stupid questions, only stupid answers," he counters.
"That's what stupid people say when they ask stupid questions," I mock while rolling my eyes.
Casper looks like he is watching his favorite cartoon on a Sunday morning. Relaxed, delighted, and completely entertained. It almost irritates me that he is always so happy no matter what is happening. He must do some serious meditation yoga to channel that level of inner Zen.
He reflects on something for a minute, his facial expression melting into a soft curiosity. I can't tell what he's thinking. His brows hang low over his eyelids, creased together slightly in the middle. There's a small separation between his lips - mouth almost open as if he's about to say something. His eyes are penetrating my very soul when he asks, "Are you always like this?"
I jerk my head back in confusion, "Like what?"
He pauses, "Defensive?"
"I'm not defensive," I blatantly lie. Although, I know he is right. If there's anything I'm certain of it's that I don't want to get too close to get burned. No matter how cute the boy might be... Hypothetically speaking, of course.
"There's a prime example," he shakes his head in disbelief, "You have such charming qualities but yet you deny people the chance to explore them. It's ironic really."
"It's not ironic," I dispute, bickering with him to pass the time, "Irony is funny... Like getting hit by an ambulance."
"That's morbid," he comments, "But I have a feeling you like it that way."
My eyebrows knit together, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm under the impression that you have a unique brand of humor that's very sardonic - in other words, it's grimly mocking and cynical," he continues with a sudden afterthought, "Don't worry, it compliments your personality well," he waits before speaking his mind, "In brief, you're quite pessimistic."
I snort with stifled laughter, "Me? Pessimistic? How preposterous..."
"I rest my case," he smiles blissfully, "You're utterly cynical."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious."
"You're welcome, Lieutenant Sarcastic."
Without warning, I feel the peculiar urge of a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
The unfamiliar feeling of sincere enjoyment is strange enough to make me want to throw up; like eating some foreign cuisine that your stomach wasn't adjusted to. I suppress my reaction and maintain my facade with a deadpan expression.
Casper exposes his teeth and grins like the Chesire cat, "I love the way you try not to smile when you talk to me," he remarks tenderly.
I quickly press my lips together and hope that I'm not blushing like a fool. I squeeze my left arm, my fingers digging into my skin. I can barely keep my heart rate at what would be considered normal. The way Casper speaks is as smooth as melting butter, his voice is mellow and warm like sunshine, and the beautiful manner in which he does absolutely everything makes me very concerned with my ability to remain calm around him.
I can't figure out why I can tolerate Casper and our brief exchange of banter. It's almost as if maybe... I kind of... sort of... almost... like him. I have always wanted someone to understand me after all; someone who doesn't see me as crazy but someone who can recognize that I am worth talking to even though I'm defensive, pessimistic, and cynical.
I glimpse at him through the corner of my eye, reluctantly admiring his angelic beauty. Casper raises his arm and rakes his fingers through his tangled hair. The hem of his shirt lifts slightly, revealing the bottom half of his muscular torso. Although it's nothing but a sneak peek of his features, I try not to gawk at him.
I can feel my cheeks getting hotter and goosebumps forming on my skin. Sweet baby Jesus, this boy makes me melt like a popsicle on the Fourth of July, I think to myself.
His rugged good looks paired with his sexy voice is swoon-worthy. I can't imagine him being any more perfect; if he was, then he certainly wouldn't classify as human. As much as I hate to admit it, I've never been attracted to someone like this... not even Gabe Parker.
I never expected to meet Casper, despite knowing nearly everybody in Seabrooke. I also never expected to feel this weird feeling. That's the only way I can really describe it. It's like, bubbles in my stomach... No, fireworks... Maybe butterflies? Holy shit, Casper gives me butterflies. I can nearly cringe at the thought that all those cheesy quotes on love might have some truth to them.
I realize that I have drifted off into my thoughts when I glimpse up at Casper. Apparently, he's said something. I blink and ask, "What?"
He's staring at me, "I said, why are you here?"
I exhale deeply through my nose and come up with the most elaborate, sarcastic response I can possibly think of, "Well, if you're asking why I'm here regarding biology, I am the offspring of the process of reproduction between two living organisms," I tell him, "However, if we're talking about the grand scheme of things, there's the explanation referring to science and evolution. There's also the spiritual aspects of life: in Christianity and other monotheistic religions, God is the creator and ruler of the universe and source of all moral authority. But I dispute that with the question: if we were created, for what purpose? Why are we here in the first place?"
I wait for him to provide me with the typical response I get for my theory-spewing monologues. It's usually an expression of surprise or bewilderment - if you're Susan then it's frustration. Honestly, I think it's funny. But much to my dismay, Casper responds with none of the above.
Instead, he smiles with delight and says, "You forgot to mention the possibility that aliens could have come to Earth many eons ago and crossbred with apes, creating the Homosapien hybrid of the extraterrestrial and animal lifeforms."
My jaw drops to the floor at the sound of his conspiracy theory. Not only is it one of the most bizarre and thought-provoking speculations I've ever heard, but it certainly is the first time I've ever had someone contribute to the radical conversation I started. I'm so used to people mocking my theories, it's strange that someone actually understands me.
Casper continues, "But I digress, what I really want to know is: why are you here on The Gray Coastline?"
I fold my arms over my chest, "You ask too many questions," I assert, "Why do you care?"
Casper looks down at his feet and sighs. After a minute or two he says, "Okay... Let's try this again," he smiles a little bit, "This time, I want you to pretend like you're not defensive for just a few seconds and then give me a real answer."
"Why?"
Casper chuckles under his breath, "Because it's called making conversation," he answers casually, "It's typically what people do when they want to get to know each other."
"Why?"
"Now look who asks too many questions."
My eyes taper into slits and I look at him skeptically, "Why do you want to get to know me?"
"Because that's how you make friends," his smile widens and he leans in towards me, his face mere inches away from mine, "And we're gonna be friends, Chloe."
I step back and scoff at him, "What if I don't want to be friends?"
"You wouldn't still be here talking to me if you didn't," he contradicts, "I certainly wouldn't be either. I could have taken a hint and walked away, but I can't. I'm just so in love with the thought that we could possibly eat breakfast together sometime and I can tell you all my favorite jokes while you try to hold back your laughter."
I roll my eyes with indifference, "Don't get your hopes up, pal."
Casper looks at me with wide, puppy dog eyes and puts on a winsome little grin, "You adore me, you just don't know it yet."
I shake my head disparagingly and glance away towards the ocean. Although I'm acting like I couldn't care less about what he has to say, the truth is I'm clinging onto every single word. Casper has this way of making the simplest phrases sound like poetry. I can't express how much I like his voice. When he talks to me, it's like everything makes sense.
I gaze at the sun that has slowly begun setting over the horizon. The ocean has turned a dark navy blue. The sunlight is reflecting on the surface of the waves and making them glisten with hues of marigold and tangerine. The puffy clouds floating in the sky are slowly drifting in the wind. This is the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen at The Gray Coastline.
With my eyes still peering off into the distance, I sigh deeply and slowly, "It's somewhere I can get away from everything," I tell him.
Casper furrows his brows, "What?"
I watch the waves roll into the shore and caress the sand, "You asked me why I'm here," I answer quietly, "I like that when I come here I can be alone. There's nothing but me and the ocean. I can bury my feet in the sand and listen to the sound of the waves crashing in on themselves. Being by the ocean is like listening to music. I have the chance to think about things while just enjoying the seclusion the beach has to offer."
I glance over at Casper. The golden beams of sunlight behind him are casting a warm, halo-like glow around his body. For the first time, I actually notice the details of his features.
His eyes are as green as emeralds, glittering and sparkling like gems that are sitting by an open window in the morning. There are cute dimples etched into his cheeks on both sides of his wide smile. He also has a few small freckles dusted around his nose. Seemingly, his only flaw is a small, indented scar on his forehead.
Casper scrutinizes me up and down, his curious eyes exploring my body like an uncharted island. He gazes at me intently and warmly. There is a soft curvature to his lips, they are partly open and his teeth are bared with an expression of pleasure. He shakes his head subtly as if he is in disbelief that I'm standing before him.
His tall height towers above me and I look up at him through my eyelashes. I can't stop myself from blushing, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You're kinda pretty," he says.
I scoff at him, "Do you think I care if you-"
"Whoa, slow down!" he insists with a chuckle, "I said kinda."
I snort with a skeptical tone, "Whatever..."
Casper takes out his phone and checks the time. He nods to himself and puts it back in his pocket. He stares at me for a minute like he's taking it all in. He sighs, "Well, I have to get going. It's my turn to cook dinner tonight. And by cook dinner, I mean it's my turn to order Chinese take-out," he laughs softly, "So, Chloe... When will I see you again?"
I raise my brows in surprise and then crease them in contemplation. No one has ever asked me that before. In fact, I'm curious as to why he wants to see me again in the first place. Does he actually like me? Honestly, I'm too insecure to notice. I'm sure he has hundreds of other girls way prettier than me that are dying to spend time with him. I can't understand why Casper is so interested in getting to know me.
In response to his question, I shrug awkwardly, "Um, I don't know..."
He glances away and catches his breath for a moment. Then he looks back at me with the most sincere expression I've ever seen, "Hopefully sooner than later," he says.
"If I never saw you again, it would be too soon," I reply with wry amusement.
He smirks, "See you around, Chloe."
I watch as he wanders off, dragging his bike behind him through the powdery sand. I release a deep breath that I didn't know I had been holding and feel a huge weight lifted off my chest. That was by far the most nerve-wracking encounter I've ever had with another human being.
Meeting Casper Collins for the first time was like seeing a shooting star. Beautiful, rare, and vanished within an instant.
I turn around and begin walking away in the opposite direction. Then suddenly, Casper's voice catches my attention.
"By the way," he shouts at me from the distance, "I lied about you being kinda pretty!"
I have never been so offended. I feel my heart sink down into my gut and I cringe internally, "What do you mean?" I holler back to him.
Despite him being so far away, I can still see that gigantic smile of his that is brighter than the sun itself, "That was the biggest understatement of all time!" he calls at the top of his lungs.
Casper veers around and strolls into the farther ends of the oceanside. I stand there motionless for a few minutes and watch him disappear into the horizon. I turn on my heels and slowly make my way back to the meadow. There was a warm, tingling feeling under my skin and those weird butterflies in my belly. Somehow he makes me feel like I'm walking on air.
I find myself thinking about Casper when a smile emerges on my face. I wallow in the pleasant feeling for a few seconds until I realize what just happened.
Oh shit... I think to myself, That can't be good...
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
Hey there! Thank you so much for reading the second chapter! Your support means the world to me! Don't forget to comment and vote if you enjoyed! I am really looking forward to your response <3
Meanwhile, I'll be busy cooking :)
If you must know, I'll be cooking up the next chapter!
I already have the entire storyline organized or BBAAW. For each chapter, I just follow the plot I have written in extreme detail. I'm making small changes and new additions as the story progresses, but for the most part, I already know how the story is going to end.
I'm so excited each time I publish a new chapter and read comments. It's so incredibly motivating and I feel very proud of myself whenever I've accomplished something regarding my book. I can't wait for BBAAW to continue growing into something beautiful!
Eventually, I hope people will love this story as much as me. I'm not getting much interaction with the book right now, but I'm being patient :)
Anyways, thanks again for reading! I look forward to updating again soon!
Yours,
Paris
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《 Published September 25th, 2018 》
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