Page 7 of Beyond the Blues
CHAPTER 3
understanding. We walk the short distance back to the hotel, in silence making the journey feel much longer than it is. We reach the pool, a midpoint to each other’s rooms. Nora stands in front of me, only slightly taller than me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Nora asks, voice filled with worry.
“Sure.” I reply, forcing a small smile onto my face, feeling my lip quiver slightly. Nora takes a couple of steps backwards before turning and walking toward, I assume, her room. I speed walk back to my room, the emotions overwhelming me. Will this ever get easier to talk about? I step into my hotel room, letting the feelings crash over me, feeling pathetic and embarrassed. I cry so hard, it’s hard to breathe and my chest feels tight. Placing my hands on the sink, and try to take a second to calm myself down, although the anxiety and grief were kicking my butt.If Coco were here, she’d have encouraged me to go have fun with the hot girl. If Coco were here, I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.
*16 years ago*
Today is my first day of school. I am a little scared I won’t make any friends, but mummy promises I will. I hope she’s right. We stand outside these grand metal gates, other school children flooding in and kissing goodbye to their parents. I grab my mummy’s hand harder, never wanting to leave her side. She bends down to my level and rubs her thumb over my cheek.
“You’ve got this, flower,” she says, her glowing smile filling me with the boost of confidence I need.
She hands me my bag, and I strut through the gates with my head held high. I wave bye to my mum, and she gets into her little yellow car we call Bert. When she drives off, I suddenly remember where I am and how scary this new environment is.
Walking into the classroom, there are colourful paintings all around, and the teacher is scribbling on the whiteboard. Wow, her writing is good! I hope I can write that well, mummy says my handwriting is very neat for my age. As the class fills with other kids, my teacher turns around, her enormous
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tortoise-shell glasses sitting on the tip of her nose.
“Right, class, please find the table with your name on it and sit down.”
I scan all the names on the tables: Noah, Harry, Katie, Beth, Coco, and Ophelia. I sit down at the table and fiddle with the pencils on my desk. A blonde girl comes into the room, her hair with beautiful plaits and little flower clips hanging on. I want her to be my friend. She studies the names on the tables, and just my luck, she is Coco and sits down beside me.
“Hello, I’m Coco!” she says enthusiastically, her smile spreading from ear to ear.
“Hi, I’m Ophelia.”
“Ophelia,” Coco repeats.
“Nice to meet you, Ophelia. Do you want to be my best friend, please?” Mummy really was right about making friends.
“Yes, please!” I say, and Coco hugs me immediately, letting out a little squeal of excitement.
*
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4
Chapter 4
The headache I wake up with consumes my temples, whether it’s from the glasses of wine last night or crying myself to sleep, I’m not sure. I feel a sense of guilt for making last night awkward between Nora and I. I know she didn’t ask to hurt me. She asked because she also knew Coco. Not as well as I did, but there must’ve been some shock factor for her too. I toss and turn in bed until I finally decide to get up and out and enjoy the resort. If I wanted to rot in bed, I may as well have saved all the money I spent on this holiday and stayed at home. I pop a couple of painkillers out of the metallic packaging and grab water out of the mini fridge, forcing the oddly large pills down my throat. I’ll thank myself later.
I walk over to the now busy pool filled with families, and towels neatly placed on the sun beds to ‘reserve’ them. I find a sunbed and lay my towel down, removing my cover up. The heat hits me, sweat forming on my upper lip already, and the pool is suddenly calling my name. Dipping my toes in, the coldwater sends shivers up my body, I consider getting out, but the memories of Coco begging me to get in the pool with her seem to push me further in. I swim around the pool aimlessly, trying not to splash people with my terrible swimming. Floating on my back, I dip my ears underneath the pool, the world going quieter, the voices and music turning into just muffles.
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I notice the hotel entertainers circling the pool for participants for their fun new activity, like seagulls searching for leftover chips. I decide to make an escape for it, because I can’t play water polo to save my life. People enter the pool rapidly, the dads ready to win their certificate printed just twenty minutes prior to the game. As I go to leave the pool, someone shouts.
“Heads!” Before I know it, a ball hits the back of my head full speed, knocking me over, my leg hitting the stairs and face on the edge of the pool. I lift my head up,cheekbone stinging from the impact and leg pulsing. I look down and my leg has a cut, a lot of blood leaking out of it.
“Fuck.” I say, pulling myself from the steps to sit on the edge and see the damage. It’s a slight cut, just one that bleeds an embarrassing amount. The holiday rep and a middle-aged bald man come over to me quickly.