THE BEST REMEDY for a chaotic week is a day at the Hole. Though last night ended in a definite high, to help counteract the stress brought on by the rest of the week, I prescribe myself 10 hours of uninterrupted alone time at the Hole on Saturday.
I wake up early in the morning to prepare, rummaging my room for the usual essentials: a selection of books to read (today consists of just two), a portable charger for my phone, my laptop for a bigger screen to binge-watch movies on, and a large tote bag to carry all these things in.
The Hole already has plenty of things to entertain myself with, but these are the items I tend to bring back home with me at the end of the day.
Scanning my room, I decide to grab a pair of headphones from the top of my dresser as well. The spare set I usually keep in the Hole is hidden somewhere inside one of the bags we took with us to visit my cousins — but searching for it now would require more effort than I am willing to put in at 9 AM.
On my way out the door, I stall, retreating back inside to roll up a blanket and stuff into my bag. The weather has been getting colder recently and the light throw I have tucked away in the Hole may not be warm enough to combat the evening chill.
I bustle down the stairs into the kitchen, surprised to find Hayden sat on the opposite side of the table when I dump my tote bag into the empty chair nearest to me.
His gaze is fixated on the laptop in front of him, vision aided by the framed spectacles that balance on the bridge of his nose. He's wearing a hoodie with the initials of an Ivy League university emblazoned across the chest, a memento from a school trip we went on last summer.
"You look particularly nerdy today," I comment, eyeing the speed at which Hayden is rapping against his laptop's keyboard. "What are you doing so early in the morning?"
While waiting for his reply, I walk across the kitchen to the pantry, hunting around for food I can take with me to the Hole. Would it be too much to take a packed lunch? I should at least come home for dinner...
Hayden pauses his typing long enough to throw me a glance. "That kid I used to tutor before the summer break. His parents are looking into starting classes again soon."
That's right. Schools are opening soon, aren't they?
"Ah." I nod, crossing over to the fridge to pull out a carton of juice. I take out a cup to pour myself a glass before almost immediately changing my mind, resolving to take the entire bottle with me instead.
At this rate, I'll need a picnic basket to carry all of this. We should have one around here somewhere.
"By the way, Harv, what's up with the bag and all the food?" Hayden says, reaching forward to poke the blanket sticking out of my tote bag. "You're not trying to run away from home, are you?"
I scoff. "Why is that your first thought?"
Hayden raises his shoulders in indifference, leaning back into his seat.
"Well, for your information," I answer, circling the kitchen in search of a picnic basket, "I'm spending the day at the Hole."
Hayden pauses. His voice drops a tone. "The Hole?"
I turn to him. "What?"
"Harvey..." Hayden rises to his feet; he takes off his glasses, dragging a hand down his weary face. "We wanted to tell you before. But you were so upset yesterday — and you didn't come home till late, and... we didn't want to make it worse."
"Make what worse? Tell me what?"
"It's about the Hole. It got damaged in the storm. And—"
"No." I take a step back, shaking my head. "Stop right there. Please tell me this is a joke."
"Harvey—"
This time, Hayden is interrupted by Hunter entering the kitchen.
"Gooood morni..." he begins to greet in a singsong voice until he notices the heavy atmosphere in the room, faltering.
"Hunter," I throw him a desperate look, "he's joking, right? Please tell me it's not true. The Hole isn't..."
Hunter's face falls. "I'm sorry, Harvey."
A lump forms in my throat. "No," I choke out. "It—it can't be that bad, can it?"
"It's pretty bad," Hayden confesses. "The storm hit here late night on Thursday. With everything else going on we didn't think to fortify the seal at the entrance. It broke down and the whole place got flooded up. I'm sorry, Harvey."
I shake my head in refusal, staggering backwards and scrambling for the door.
"Harvey—" Hunter extends a hand to reach out to me.
"I won't believe it until I see it for myself."
Without another word, I bolt out the backdoor and race down the beach to find my rocky hideout. My heart is roaring, pounding in my chest, and my ears are clogged with the sound of blood rushing. I'm terrified to think about the state of the Hole when I arrive.
But reality can be so much worse than the imagination.
My heart plummets as I skate round to the entrance of the Hole.
Though the heat from the sun has managed to dry up most of the sand on the lower beach, the ground around the Hole remains marshy; a mud-like consistency that forces me to stop a few feet before the actual entryway.
Flooded.
The caved interior is completely submerged in water. Walls of wooden shelves have been ripped from their mounts, shards of shattered glassware and ceramics that had once formed part of the random paraphernalia decorating my shelves find new homes at the bottom of the murky water. My books lay in tatters, torn pages floating on the surface of the water, tangled with strings of dark green seaweed and draped limply over stray driftwood.
I've had the Hole for years and the previous times it has flooded, it has never gotten as bad as this.
How did this happen?
Why did this have to happen at all?
Why is it that every time I get close to being happy again, something a hundred times worse happens again?
Everything that made the Hole my haven, my place of sanctuary has been destroyed.
A sharp pain shoots through my head. I squeeze my eyes shut, exhaling a shaky breath. Except it quickly turns to a sob. My chest gives out and more sobs come out though I try to hold them back. What's the point in crying? It's not going to solve anything. But my body won't listen to reason. My knees buckle and I collapse on the sand with wet cheeks and tears streaming from my eyes.
It seems like this is how I'll always be. Trapped in a cycle. Of raising my hopes up, believing things can get better, only to have them dashed and to be disappointed by something else. Happiness turns to sorrow. Success to failure. The warm feeling of belonging always comes before abandonment. Stuck. Repeating in an infinite loop. Is there any worth in trying if it'll always end the same way?
Suddenly, I feel arms wrap around me, pulling me towards the owner's chest.
"Harvey," a voice wails, tightening our embrace.
Gia?
"It'll be okay. The Hole will be okay. You've fixed it before, and we'll fix it again. No matter how long it takes. So don't you dare give up, okay?"
Her voice is thick and her hands are shaky as she rests my head on her shoulder, stroking a hand through my hair. She continues to murmur words of encouragement, but they begin to slur together, morphing into a warbled mess.
I tear my head away from her shoulder to catch sight of her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
"Why are you crying?" I sob. "You hate the Hole."
"I know, but the Hole means a lot to you," she bawls. "Of course I'm going to cry too."
"Gia," I blubber, breaking into a fresh set of tears. I loop my arms around her torso, squeezing her back. "I'm so sorry."
"I'm sorry too," Gia cries back.
And so huddled on the ground under Hunter and Hayden's tentative gazes, we weep together. In sadness, in frustration. In relief. In the comfort we find in each other's arms.
><{{{(•>
"I really am sorry, you know?" Gia says. "About everything. You shouldn't have to tell me. I should've known. I guess I just assumed that when you got the cast taken off and your leg healed that the panic attacks stopped too. I'm sorry for not paying more attention."
"You sound like my parents. It's not your fault. I should've opened up earlier to everyone."
Gia and I are back in my room. We aren't doing anything in particular, but it turns out crying can get pretty exhausting. We laze away atop my bed, with Gia propped against a mountain of pillows stacked by my headboard while I rest my head in her lap.
"I was out of order back then too," Gia continues. "I shouldn't have said that about you being paranoid over nothing. I know you went through a lot with what happened with Linds and those other girls. I shouldn't have tried to belittle your struggles that way."
I turn my head away from her. "I should be the one apologising. You weren't wrong. I always close people off. What happened with them was over a year ago, I should be over it by now. It's not fair of me to keep on treating everyone who's not you or the guys as not worth my time. I hate that I am a burden to you."
"You're not a—"
"I hate the fact you have to go through so much effort to stop me becoming isolated, having to make friends for the both of us. I'm sorry, Gia. I'm sorry for getting mad when you were just looking out for me, for comparing you to those girls. You're nothing like them. You're my best friend. I trust you more than anyone."
"I know, Harvey, thank you for trusting me. And I'm sorry too. If I hadn't been spending so much time with Hayden you wouldn't have worried in the first place."
"That's nonsense," I cut in. "You and Hayden like each other, why would I stop you guys from seeing each other just because I felt a little insecure?" I lift my head off her lap, frowning up at her. "And stop apologising so much. This is starting to become too cheesy."
Gia laughs, lowering herself further down my bed to hug me from behind. "Okay, fine. I'll stop."
"I mean it, though," I say seriously. "I'm really okay with you and Hayden. Just... don't forget to make some time for me in between your dates or whatever it is you two do together."
"I'll always make time for you, Harviekins," Gia says, snuggling into my back.
I squirm, trying to get away from her. "Gia, you've got a boyfriend. Stop molesting me."
"Oh, shut up, Mackler."
Eventually, I stop struggling, allowing Gia to cuddle me to her heart's content. A beat passes and we both fall silent when I get the sudden urge to blurt out:
"Finn and I kissed."
It comes out of nowhere. But it's not until I confess that I realise how much I've been dying to tell someone.
"Shut up!" Out of excitement, Gia pushes me out my bed.
I land on the floor with a thud. "Ow!"
Gia scrabbles to the edge of the bed, observing me with a sheepish look. "Sorry!" she apologises. "But is it true? When did it happen?"
"Last night."
"That's not even what I should be asking — three weeks ago you were denying anything going on between you two. What changed?"
It doesn't take Gia much pestering to get me to divulge everything that's happened between me and my British neighbour leading up to yesterday. If you include Prank Week, it has been almost two weeks since we last caught up properly, so we find we have a lot to talk about. The conversation diverges from Finn to a general discussion of what else Gia has been up to all week and how my trip to my cousins' went.
"Sounds like you've had a rough week," Gia sympathises.
"I know," I reply. "And now you've made it rougher. I think my shoulder is going to bruise. Look! My elbow is already."
Gia rolls her eyes. "Oh, you big baby," she says, dragging me back to her, and petting my head. "There, there. Stop whining and go to sleep. It'll be all better in the morning."
"It isn't even two yet. What are you talking about?"
"Shhh." Gia silences me. "Stop talking. Just sleep it off."
I play along, knowing it's easier to give in to Gia's teasing than fight against, and yet the combination of Gia's soft coos and the gentle, repetitive motion of her stroking my hair is somewhat soothing. My eyelids flutter to a close, and I begin to feel drowsy. Sleep continues to tug at me, and amidst it all, I don't realise the moment I genuinely fall asleep.
><{{{(•>
When I wake up, Gia is gone.
My eyes flit around my empty room, landing on my bedroom door where a dull knock sounds.
"Come in," I say groggily, clearing out my throat.
"Sweetheart, you're awake," Dad says as he steps into the room.
"Hey, Dad." I prop myself on my elbows before sliding up into a sitting position. "D'you know where Gia went?"
"Home," Dad says, walking forward. "She left about an hour ago. Family emergency — don't worry, nothing serious. She said she tried to wake you up before she left but you wouldn't budge. Ah. Looks like she left you a note though."
"A note?"
Dad leans forward to peel something off my forehead. I reach up to touch the patch of skin from where Dad had plucked the small neon post-it note in his hands. How did I not feel that before?
I take the note from Dad to read the message written on it in Gia's neat cursive.
Harviekins. Had to go early. I'll call you tonight.
— Love, Gialicious.
I roll my eyes at her given nicknames. I don't remember ever consenting to 'Harviekins' — and what sort of nickname is 'Gialicious'?
"I heard about what happened at the Hole," Dad says, drawing my attention back to him. "Want to go check it out again together?"
Noticing the reluctant look on my face, he adds, "Come on, we should try to get an objective look before writing it off altogether, shouldn't we?"
Dad holds a hand out to me. I sigh, reaching out to take it. "Alright."
Dad helps pull me out my bed, wearing a broad grin as I trudge across my room to pick up a warm zip-up hoodie from my wardrobe and slip on a pair of running shoes on my feet.
"Great," Dad says once I'm ready. He leads the way out the house and down the beach. "I checked it out before, and the damage doesn't seem irreparable. The flooding makes it look a lot worse than it really is. I say, if we're able to drain all the water, we should be able to get most of it fixed up."
"You really think so?" I ask, sticking my hands in my pocket.
Dad steps back from the marshy area in front of the Hole, beckoning me forward with an encouraging smile. "Come see for yourself."
I take an apprehensive step forward, then another, dragging my gaze to the Hole. On a second, more objective view of the wreckage, I realise Dad is right. The water seems to be the biggest problem, followed by the shelves. If I look at it as just two tasks, it doesn't feel quite as overwhelming.
"Don't look at it as unfixable just because it's damaged," Dad says. "Think of it as an opportunity to improve what you already have. So, what do you say, Harv?" He arches his head towards me, catching me under his arms and pulling me amiably to his side. "Us two Marvellous Macklers, working together?"
"Marvellous Macklers?" I question with a slight chortle.
"I think we can do it," Dad continues. "The flooring was due for a relevelling anyway. We can redo the shelves and replace them with sturdier fittings. Might take a week or two to get everything in order, but it should be a fun project."
"I suppose I was also thinking of us installing a better draining system for the Hole. I was looking into one when you and Mom were away," I grudgingly add. "If we reinforce the walls of the Hole, we'd be able to put in stronger wall brackets to help support the shelves."
"That's my girl," Dad says, squeezing my shoulder.
The ghost of a smile tugs at my lips. I return to staring inside the Hole, struggling to make out the darkened inside, beyond the parts of the roof illuminated by the strings of light reflected from the water surface.
The corners of my lips pull downwards. "But what are we going to do about my things...?"
"We can try fishing them out tomorrow," Dad says. "It's getting late now, and the weather is a bit cold. I wouldn't want you catching anything. The chest back there is waterproof so anything inside should hopefully be fine. Don't worry, anything we can't fix, we'll try to replace — that includes your books. But we'll try to see what we can salvage first."
"Okay," I reply with a heavy nod.
Dad pulls his arm away from me, looking up to the early evening sky. "We better go in."
I hear his footsteps crunch against the sand as he starts to plod back up the beach. They stop.
"Harvey?" Dad asks. "You coming?"
I tear my eyes away from the Hole to look at my father, withdrawing my hands from my pockets. "In a minute. I want to stay out for a little longer. I'm thinking of taking a walk down the beach to get some fresh air."
"Alright," Dad agrees. "Don't stay out too long."
"I won't," I reply, watching his figure depart from my line of view.
My eyes trail away from him, sweeping the deserted beach before landing on the sea. I still find it calming. Watching the tide lap at the coast, waves rising and sweeping and crashing against each other in a flurry of blues and emerald greens tipped with white foam. From here, watching it still brings me an odd sense of comfort...
Why is it so different when I'm out there?
I blow out a breath, turning back to the Hole.
Dad says he'll help me replace anything that got damaged, but looking at my torn books floating on the water, I can't help but feel a little sorrowful. All those precious books, untimely ripped from this Earth...
It feels like I am in mourning.
Perhaps it's the words inside that bear the true value, yet I still feel sentimental thinking about how each book felt in my hand as I flicked through their pages, how it felt to run my fingers over the covers, gripping them tightly at exciting moments in the book.
The physical books can be replaced, however the value of the memories I made reading the original copies are pricele—
Finn's necklace.
My eyes widen.
I'd left it in the Hole as well.
Where did I put it? It wasn't in my main chest. It was in a small box I usually keep on one of the shelves.
On the shelves!
My heart pounds painfully against my ribcage as I zero in on the lone shelf that manages to hang on to the wall. It's slanted and bare, barely grasping on by a nail; the items that once adorned the shelf now lost in the water that pools beneath.
I catch sight of a small wooden chest bobbing on the surface of the water, and my stomach does a somersault. Without thinking, I cross the marshy plane and wade into the water to retrieve it.
I roll up my sleeves before dunking my hand into the water to fish out the box.
I turn it over, hands trembling as I peer inside.
Empty.
The lump in my throat returns. I force myself to swallow it down as I drop the box and wade deeper into the Hole. The necklace must have fallen out. That means it should be somewhere around here. I kick the water around me hoping to feel something, but it proves futile.
I let out an aggravated sigh, pushing a hand through my hair. The ends of my hoodie are getting wet, so I unzip it and shrug it off, tossing it outside onto the dry sand to avoid it from getting fully soaked as I wade deeper into the cavern of the Hole.
Here, the water rises to just below my waist, but I refuse to let it deter my search. I plunge my hand into the murky water, straining my eyes in search of a glint of silver. A glint of anything. Any sign. Any fragment. Just something to indicate the necklace is still here. Still safe. That it didn't somehow get washed out to sea with the tide. That I haven't lost something so precious to Finn.
"Is someone in there? Hello?"
I hear a voice call from outside the Hole.
"Harvey? Is that you?" Finn appears in the entrance, blocking out the faint light I'd been using to search around. "What's going on?"
"Finn," I croak. "The necklace. The one you gave me. I can't find it. I'm trying to find it, but—but, it seems hopeless. It should be here, but..."
I dip my hand in the water again, but come out empty-handed once again. I begin to choke up, tears slipping out before I can stop them.
"I can't find it. I've lost it," I weep.
"Harvey, it's okay. It doesn't matter, you should get out of there first." He takes a step forward before realising how flooded the area is and steps back again.
"How can you say it doesn't matter, when I know it matters to you? Y-you gave it to me and I lost it, Finn."
"Harvey." Amidst my choked sobs, I hear the sound of water sploshing as Finn wades inside, closing the gap between us. "It's okay. It'll be alright."
"How can you say it'll be alright? I keep on messing things up. Everything keeps on going wrong. I can't even swim anymore, Finn! What type of surfer can't swim?!"
"Harvey, it's alright, it'll be fine," Finn persists, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to his chest. "Let's get you out of here first, okay?"
Finn half-sweeps me off my feet, catching me by surprise when he picks me out of the water, transferring me to a shallower part. I stumble as he gently sets me down, tears momentarily ceasing as he coaxes me out the Hole with an arm around my back, latched to my waist.
"About the necklace, lucky charm, whatever..." Finn says softly as we plod out to a drier patch of land, "it literally doesn't matter. You can find a hundred more of those at any duty-free shop at the airport."
I sniffle, looking up at Finn as he slips his hand away from my side. "Really?"
"Mmhmm," he replies, bringing a thumb up to wipe my cheek. "So don't stress about it. It'll be fine. And so will your surfing. And your swimming too. It's not permanent. I don't think you've actually forgotten how to swim. It was just that moment. It happens to everyone."
He splays his fingers out to cup my cheek, and I relax into his touch. "You're sure?"
"Positive," Finn says. "Trust me. I'm a swimmer, remember?"
A faint smile plays at my lips. Then it fades. "I'm sorry for losing your lucky charm."
"It's fine, I don't need it anyway." Finn pulls his hand away, brushing wisps of my slightly damp hair away from my face before reaching down to squeeze my hands, rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. "Instead... how about you be my lucky charm at the next competition? Hmm?"
My lips twitch, resisting the urge to comment on his cheesy pick-up line. "Okay."
We stay like this for a short while, me in front of Finn, with my hands in his, the light motion of his thumbs grazing the back of my hand assuaging my nerves.
Feeling calmer, I look back up to Finn, squeezing his hand in mine before standing up on my tiptoes to peck his lips.
Finn blinks back his surprise. "What was that for?"
I pull my hands away from his, snaking them around his firm body and resting my head on his chest.
"That was a thank you. For being understanding, and knowing the right words to say. I feel a bit better now," I say. I turn my head on his chest, wrapping my arms more tightly around him as he hugs me back. "I've been crying so much lately, it's embarrassing. It makes me feel pathetic."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Finn says. "I appreciate that you're crying."
I peel my head away from Finn's chest, frowning as I shoot him a questioning look.
His cheeks flame pink. "Not in a weird way," he is quick to clarify. "It's just... I guess, I always see the confident, tough as nails Harvey. I'm glad you're allowing me to see your vulnerable side too."
I struggle to envision Finn's 'confident, tough as nails' impression of me, considering how right now, I feel the exact opposite. But reflecting on the times of my previous breakdowns, I suppose it's usually my brothers or Gia who find me first. I think this is the first time Finn has seen me cry.
My expression softens.
"Then, thank you for wanting to see my vulnerable side," I say, relaxing back into him.
Finn adjusts me in his arms, squeezing me tighter. He cranes his neck to press a kiss on my temple before resting his chin on top my head.
"Harv?" Finn says after a spell of silence. I feel a tingle in my chest when he calls my name. It's a nickname used by all my family and friends, but it sounds different when he says it. Just that more intimate.
"Yeah?" I murmur back.
Finn stretches his arms around me. "Just so you know, this is how you comfort someone to help them calm down."
...What?
My eyebrows draw together. Is he...?
No. He can't possibly be talking about the slapping incident? Again?!
Finn's body vibrates with silent laughter.
I break away from him with a deathly glare. "I hate you."
I manage to turn away, but before I can even take a step, Finn reaches for my waist, effortlessly tugging me back to him. My back falls against his chest and he secures his arms around me, trapping me.
"I mean it," I say, though I stop struggling to escape his grasp. "Forget everything I said before. I hate you."
Finn tightens his hold on me, chuckling as he rests his head in the crook of my neck.
He presses his lips to my skin, sending chills down my spine when he murmurs, "I'm really glad you don't."
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A/N:
Well, considering today is the 14th, I have a feeling I won't finish this book by my self-imposed September 15th deadline. But hey, only 1 chapter + an epilogue left. Crazier things have happened...
Word of the day: bindlestiff.
Not particularly relevant to this chapter, but came across it while writing the kitchen scene between Harvey and Hayden. It amused me. Hope it amuses you too.
This chapter was a bit of a cry-fest. Fortunately, there are a lot of synonyms to 'cry' 😂 — try to count how many I used in the chapter, lawl.
That said, how did you find this?
♕ Carmen ♕