The lights in the public parking lot in Newport were buzzing in the misty haze rolling off the ocean. I killed the engine, noticing the headlights in my rear-view mirror, but not paying them much attention. Walking a few yards from my car, I selected a piece of my own oceanfront property and sat down, still not able to comprehend why I felt such peace.
Even before my parents had been murdered, I’d forfeited my Ivy League scholarship, and lost the man of my dreams, I’d been a bit on the high-strung side—so I should be loosing it right now. We’re talking hair-pulling, stomach-sobbing, agitated walking fits, hysterical loosing it. Here I was though, basking in a calm that would have put the Dali Lama to shame.
“This seat taken?”
I jolted before I looked up to see who was responsible for interrupting my solitude and the owner of the headlights in my rear-view mirror.
“Saved it for you.” I patted the sand beside me and smiled up at Paul.
He plopped down and nudged me with his shoulder. “I’d ask how you were doing but that would kind of be a rhetorical question at this point.”
“I look that good, huh?” I felt good on the inside, but to an observer, I’m sure my puffy, tear-stained face would have led them to believe I was anything but fine.
“No, it’s not that,” Paul answered quickly. “You look great . . . as always.” It looked like he was blushing, but it was dark and I doubted Paul Lowe was the kind of guy that blushed. “It’s just that you’ve had a crazy week.”
I nodded. “Yeah. You think?”
Paul was silent for a few moments, and the chorus of waves filled in the gaps in our conversation. I couldn’t resist playing back in my mind William riding these waves.
“Bryn, I’m so sorry—”
I grabbed his forearm and squeezed. “No apologies, okay? I’ve got plenty to apologize to you for myself,” I said, remembering my less-than-pleasant behavior with him lately. “Let’s just call it even and move on. Sound good?”
He looked relieved. “Sounds great.”
“That’s settled then.” I released his arm and began scrolling circles in the sand. “So did everyone know about the letter before me?” With the reminder of it, I could almost feel it burning me from where it still sat unopened in the cab of my Camaro. I was sure reading his words in his handwriting would hurt a hundred times more than hearing it paraphrased from someone else.
“No!” His answer was instant. “I overheard the bimbo twins talking about you this morning and when I asked them what was up, they showed me the letter. I told them not to say anything to you about it, but that obviously didn’t happen.” He looked off at the black ocean and shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done that. You had a right to know.”
“He was gone either way.” I realized the drawing I was making in the sand resembled an eye so I swept it clean. “You’re heart was in the right place.”
Paul’s heart was always in the right place. Despite everything that’d gone askew with me, his intentions couldn’t be questioned.
He looked hard into my eyes and his expression turned serious. “Keep your eyes open, okay—just in case he decides to come back? I’ve got a bad feeling about him.”
“Really?” I said sarcastically. “It seemed like you guys were going to be best friends.”
“I’m being serious here,” he said urgently. The skin at the corners of his eyes creased. “After he seemed to just magically appear out of nowhere, I did some asking around . . .”
My eyebrows squeezed together.
“Long story short, I found out a William Winters had never been registered at OSU. He basically showed up one day and was gone the next,” Paul said, gazing with interest at my face that I knew was blanching bone white before him.
He grabbed my shoulder and shook me gently. “I know, I know. None of my business, but I thought you should know.” The rhythmic shaking kept me from passing out from the information overload being fired at me. Paul snapped his fingers, doing a final clearing of my head. “I promise I won’t say another thing about him.” He crossed his heart and chuckled before looking back at me.
My gaze was intense and my breathing heavy, all due to the information Paul had just unloaded on me. William had never been registered at OSU? If it hadn’t been for Paul knowing about him, I would have believed I’d made him up.
Paul took a close examination of my wide eyes and accelerated breathing, and he reciprocated in turn. His fingertips curled against my cheek and his eyes closed as he crossed the distance between us, his lips leading.
My head backed away from his advance. “I can’t,” I whispered.
His hand dropped and he exhaled. “Yeah, I know,” he said, scratching his head. “I really suck at this timing thing.”
I attempted a laugh, but it sounded as nervous and uncomfortable as I felt. I was baffled (to put it gently) by the turn of events that had taken place over the past few days. Why had two men that were swoon worthy by every definition of the word suddenly taken an interest in me? ME?! Boring, painfully normal, hermit-like Bryn.
My reflection hadn’t changed in the mirror any, and I was positive I hadn’t developed any new charming characteristics to add to my inadequate repertoire. Maybe there was something in the Corvallis water, or maybe there was an extra credit assignment assigned in Sociology I wasn’t aware of . . . a Date a Loser Charity assignment.
Before I could rein in my curiosity, out it came. “Can I ask you sort-of a strange question?”
He perked up some, looking like the rejection was passing. “Absolutely—let’s have it.” He smiled one of those smiles that would undue most girls’ resolve. There was no denying it was quite some smile, but I recognized it for what it had likely been created and perfected for—to attract, unnerve and disillusion his female prey. From the height of his confidence, it had worked for him very well in the past.
“Why the sudden interest in me?” I spit out. I really didn’t care if he told me I was making a mountain of a mole hill, or that he was just trying to be nice . . . or heck, even if he did have an extra credit assignment in Sociology. I just needed to ask my question, and receive an answer.
Looking thrown by my to-the-point question, he began fumbling with his hands. “Well, um . . . I don’t know. You know . . .”
“It’s alright—you can tell me.” I smiled as charmingly as I knew how, and tried to bat my eyes in a becoming manner—knowing I probably looked like I was experiencing an eye spasm instead.
“Alright,”—he exhaled, as if about to confess to the vilest of crimes—“the truth is . . . you caught my eye the first day you moved-in,” he began, cracking his neck and looking down. “You were so pretty and sweet and . . . well, different from the other girls. More mature, more like you knew who you were and what you wanted, and didn’t feel the need to explain or apologize to anyone. It was different, and refreshing,” he admitted, looking ashamed he’d just divulged a secret that would forever impugn his name and status in the social mix at OSU.
I was so focused on his fidgeting and stammering to get his words out, that what he’d just said took a few moments to sink in. Pretty? Sweet?
Alright . . . there must be something in the water.
He continued, apparently not done with his confession, “But then you just sort of fell off the face of the world, and didn’t seem to be interested in anything or anyone. It was like you had a sign on your forehead telling everyone to bug off and leave you alone.”
I winced. I hated it when people told me how icy I came across—snotty, bitchy, and stuck-up were other popular descriptors used as well. My true trait of shyness was less gossip worthy, I guess.
“I let it go and figured you probably had a boyfriend back home, or were miserable here in Corvallis after moving from California. Then I saw you hanging out with him,” he rolled the word as if it were a profanity. “So I thought I’d take a chance and see if I could attract your attention, too.” The smile that capped his confession appeare
d shy; not at all the signature one he normally wore.
“Thank you,” I whispered, trying to overcome the tightness in my throat. “It really means a lot to me that you’d tell me the honest to goodness truth. This past year has been hard for me, but I’m sorry I came across so cold. I really didn’t think anyone else would notice, or care.”
“Hey, no apologies, remember?” he said, placing his arm around my shoulder and squeezing. “So,”—he dropped his arm and his tone changed to the lighter one I was used to—“I didn’t follow you all the way here just to talk your head off. I wanted to make sure you’d get to wherever you were going safely. Emotional women and dark, wet roads shouldn’t mix.” He stood up and swept the sand from his pants. “It’s late and I don’t want either of us travelling another sixty miles back to campus.”
He scanned up and down the beach, looking for something. “We’re on the Oregon coast right? There’s got to be a few hotels within throwing distance. I’m going to go see if we can get in somewhere.”
My brows rose and I gave him a look he’d probably never seen before from a women when he’d made a similar suggestion.
He chuckled. “So quick to jump to conclusions.” He held out his hand for me to grab. I took it and he lifted me up. “I’ll be requesting two rooms for tonight. That is . . . unless you’d like to forgo all the pretenses and just admit you’re dying to spend the night with me.” His confidence and laugh were back in normal Paul form.
“Does that really work on my female counterparts?
His face formed around a mock serious expression. “Not as often as I’d like.”
I laughed. “I didn’t think so.”
“You want to come with me?” he asked, taking a step back towards the parking lot where his SUV laid in wait behind my car. “In case you’d like to test-drive the mattress?”
I rolled my eyes and punched his arm. “Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather enjoy the view here for a while longer.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be back soon.” I heard the beep of his security system click off before I decided to make my way down to the water. My pace quickened the closer I got until the waves were crashing right in front of me, thundering their chorus into my ears.
I took a few steps into the black water, allowing it to wrap around my feet. The waves slid up and around my ankles in gentle caresses, taking with them the sand that lay beneath my feet—over and over again.
This was the same water, the same ocean, where he’d been. Where we’d been together and he’d wanted me.
I had a sudden need to submerge more of my body, to be even closer to him, so I took a few steps forward. The waves were now splashing up against my knees and spreading a wet ring around the hem of my skirt. The sensation of the ocean water caressing more of my body was beyond description.
Several more steps, and the water encircled my waist, and a few larger waves peaked up around my neck, wetting the rest of my clothing. The chill of the water, combined with its seductive welcoming, hardened the surface of my skin; forcing me to confront the fact that despite me accepting he was gone, I wanted him back more than I wanted anything else.
I continued forward, the water calling me, beckoning me to be with it fully—promising me him. It ensnared me, and drew me tightly into its arms with a similar passion and intensity as he had. My mind settled on his face and the image I’d forever have of him surfing in this same location where I was at peace with everything.
The waves crashed over my head, and I released my footing on the sandy bottom below me. The water pled with all-consuming desire, begging me to be with it from this moment on . . . tempting me with him.
And it was William’s face, still in my mind, when my legs could no longer continue their upward fighting flutter, and I succumbed to the desires of the water enveloping me. Shining like a star through the deepening water, his face was there—witness to my departure from this world and into the unknown depths.
And then there was nothing but blackness.