Read Messed Up Online

Authors: Molly Owens

Tags: #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat

Messed Up (14 page)


Okay. When a wave comes, I am going to push you as hard as I can and then you start paddling,” he explained. I nodded silently as Conner looked out at a set coming in, “Here we go.”

I felt my board being pushed forcefully as a wave tumbled under me. I could hear Conner yell for me to paddle and I did, as franticly as I could. All of a sudden, it felt like I was flying toward the shore. The speed at which I glided forward was exhilarating. I screamed with the thrill of the moment. My board skidded to a stop on the sand. Rolling to my side, I started laughing hysterically. Conner ran up, looking concerned at first, and then realizing I was laughing, he joined in.


Fun, right?” he asked after my laughter had subsided.


That was incredible. I didn’t realize that adrenaline could feel so good.” I thought of Levi and his obsession with living on the edge, the ultimate adrenaline junky. I was momentarily able to identify with that desire.

We headed back out in the water. This time Conner explained how to stand up, first on my knees and then to my feet. I was content just gliding in on my belly, but I thought I would give it a try. After pushing me into a couple more waves, Conner made his way into deeper waters, while I practiced catching waves on my own. I was entirely unsuccessful in this pursuit and ended up lying on the soft foam board, gently bobbing up and down in the surf.

My eyes scanned the contours of the beach. It looked so quiet and peaceful. I watched a woman walking with her dog as it danced around her with a stick in its mouth. My eyes moved to a group of small children with their mom; playing in the surf, running and jumping in the water. I looked up to the parking lot where a man was waxing his surfboard, getting ready to take to the water. Not far from him was a tall skinny boy with dark hair. He was staring out at the ocean. He looked about my age. Something was familiar about his posture. I squinted my eyes to see him more clearly. I couldn’t be sure, but he looked like Levi’s friend Calvin, whom I’d met the other night at The Valencia. How random, I thought, small world.

I realized suddenly that my board had drifted further out to sea than was safe for my amateur surfer self. The waves began to pick up power. I started to paddle toward the shore, but I felt suspended in space, unable to make any progress forward, the sensation was not unlike one of my nightmares. I began to panic and looked around desperately for Conner. My board tipped to the side almost knocking me off. I adjusted myself, but overcompensated, flipping over in the other direction and into the freezing water.

I came to the surface just as a huge wave crashed over me, forcing my body beneath the water. Each time I tried to get to the surface my body was tossed with such velocity that I couldn’t tell up from down. I tumbled helplessly in the waves, being knocked from side to side. I could feel the surfboard leash thrashing at my ankle, pulling me like a rag doll in one direction and then the next. The board flew up into the sky then came crashing down knocking me violently in the head.

Just then I felt two hands grab my waist and push me forcefully toward the surface. I took a huge breath of air before being consumed by another wave. I felt the hands once more, and again I was thrown to the surface. This time I saw Conner, as he grabbed my arm and swung it around his neck. He shouted for me to hold on. He didn’t need to say that; I had no intention of letting go. Somehow he was able to reach down and unfasten the ankle strap. I felt my leg become light as the surfboard’s grasp on me was released.

As we approached the shore, the waves calmed, but I continued to grip tightly onto Conner’s neck. He swung me around, so he was carrying me like a baby in his arms. We got to the sand and he carefully put me down. He wrapped a towel around me. My body was now shivering. I reached up to my head to feel the golf ball sized lump where the surfboard had clobbered me.


You okay?” he asked as he rubbed my arms, trying to warm me.

I nodded, my jaw chattering.


That was freaky,” he admitted, “For a minute there, I thought I was going to lose you.”


Thanks for saving me,” I said between shivers, “I owe you.”

Conner helped me into the cab of his truck and turned on the heater. I defrosted there while he loaded his surfboard. I felt awful about losing the one I’d used. Conner had attempted to retrieve it, but it had drifted far out into the ocean. He tried to make me feel better by insisting that it would wash up on a beach somewhere and make somebody very happy. “Easy come, easy go,” he said shrugging his shoulders.


I’ll replace it,” I promised.


No worries,” he insisted.

When I was back to a comfortable 98.6 degrees, we walked over to the little restaurant to get some lunch. We ordered sandwiches from an aging hippy with dread locks and a tie-dyed Grateful Dead t-shirt. I followed Conner to an old wooden table that was ornamented with the carved initials of hundreds of patrons. We examined the letters, making up the names they stood for, “BS+GB. Must be Britney Spears plus George Bush,” I surmised.

“Or Bart Simpson plus Greg Brady,” Conner suggested.

“Oh come on Conner,” I joked, “That doesn’t even make sense,”

“True,” he smiled, “So, do you think your surfing days are over?”

“Until I grow a pair of fins and can breathe underwater,”

“That shouldn’t take too long. Was it scary? Being thrashed around like that?”

“It was pretty bad. The worst part was trying to paddle back to shore and not being able to get anywhere. It was exactly the way I feel in these nightmares I’ve been having,” I went on to describe my recent nightmares to Conner.
“Do you know what any of it means?” he wondered.

“Yeah, most of it is pretty obvious. Stuff that’s happened lately,” I thought about it for a minute and added, “Actually, it’s kinda of strange. The dreams started after I met Levi. Probably has something to do with my insecurities, you know?”

“What do you have to be insecure about?” he asked.

“For starters Levi is like runway model hot. And then he’s really…” my voice trailed off as I searched for the word.

“Really what?” Conner pushed.

“Kind of scary sometimes,” I said, almost in a whisper. It wasn’t until I spoke those words that the realization hit me. A small part of me wondered if all his attentions were a lead up to some terrible and frightening practical joke. Conner listened quietly as I slowly began to describe the incident with Toby and the masked men. I was surprised by his calm reaction to the disgusting prank.

“But part of what you like about him is his dangerous side,” he stated.

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

He shook his head, not saying anything for a long time, “I just hope you don’t get hurt, Chelsea,” he finally said.

 

After spending the afternoon lying out on the beach, Conner drove back to my house. I invited him in for dinner. We sat down to barbequed hamburgers and potato salad with my parents. I knew my mom would love Conner, and I was right. He was polite and respectful without being an obvious kiss-ass. We all discussed the merits of the British version of the,
The Office
, over its American counterpart. Conner sided with me that the American version was more entertaining because it wasn’t nearly as painfully embarrassing. My parents were stanch Ricky Gervais fans and could not be persuaded by my argument.

I strong-armed Conner into watching my DVDs of
Arrested Development
, the best TV show ever, which he hadn’t even seen, but I was certain he would love. Conner flopped onto my bed as I started the DVD. I obsessively checked my cell phone for the hundredth time that day. I hadn’t gotten any calls or texts from Levi. I knew the reality that Levi was finished with me would set in as soon as I was alone, which was part of the reason that I was practically holding Conner hostage.

We were just beginning the third episode of the first season when I heard the doorbell ring. My heart leaped as I dashed down the stairs, allowing myself a moment of optimism that it might be Levi. I answered the door to a goofy looking delivery boy in thick rimmed glasses, he held out a huge bouquet of white calla lilies.


Chelsea Mallory?” he asked forcing a clipboard at me, “Sign please.”

I took the flowers and closed the door. Sitting down on the steps, I removed a small envelope from the center of the paper like flowers. There was no question in my mind who they were from. I sensed Conner sitting down next to me. I passed him the flowers as I opened the envelope carefully. On the small white card, in neat print was written:
I trust you. I love you.

 

12

 

My little flock of butterflies danced around in my belly as I smiled at the note. Conner watched me carefully. I handed him the note and went to get a vase for the flowers.

“They’re really beautiful don’t you think?” I said feeling pure elation course through every vein and artery in my small body as I arranged the flowers in a deep blue glass pitcher.

“Mmm,” he agreed quietly, “Deadly though. Poisonous.”

“Remind me not to dice them up for a salad.”

“Do you think it’s true?” he asked, “Does he really love you?”

I shrugged, “At this point I’m just happy he doesn’t hate me,” and then I added seriously, “I hope so.”

Conner and I went back to my room to finish the rest of the first season of
Arrested Development
. I had a hard time concentrating though, as I kept willing my phone to ring; desperate, starving even, to hear Levi’s voice. I looked at the small simple note every so often, just to be absolutely certain I had read it correctly. After switching off the DVD, I convinced Conner to play cards with me for a bit. Having him there made time go by faster, it kept me distracted. Eventually, Conner stood up stretching and announced he was about to pass out from fatigue. I hugged him tightly and for too long, before he left me alone in my room.

 

The next morning I had to wake up early for the opening shift at the Yogurt Heaven. I was not surprised to find the food court completely empty, aside from two elderly ladies reading their papers and shaking their heads at the discouraging news they read. What need is there for frozen yogurt at nine o’clock in the morning, I wondered, as I cut strawberries into tiny bite sized pieces. Once I had meticulously cleaned every surface in the front of the store, including between the keys of the cash register, I dug through my back pack for a book. I nearly cursed myself aloud when I realized I had forgotten to pack any reading material that morning. That’s what I get for being so preoccupied by the visions of Levi that danced before me every time I shut my eyes.

I sat dejectedly on a stool, wondering what in the world I would do for the next four and half hours. The day was already destined to be painfully long as I waited for a call from Levi. It had now just doubled in length. If Hannah were still around, I would have made her come to the shop to talk to me, or at least convinced her to bring me a book. It wouldn’t have been difficult to persuade her with the lure of free food. I wondered if Conner would be willing to do me the favor. I thought about it for a fraction of half a second before flipping open my phone.

He answered, cheery as ever, and agreed to come to my rescue. I felt extremely gratified to know Conner was becoming that kind of friend. The kind that wants to hang out with you even in boring situations, because being together is always more fun than being apart.

My mind wandered to Levi. Why hadn’t it occurred to me to call him? Maybe because I assumed he was still out of town, but more likely because I didn’t want to force myself on him for fear of being considered clingy or a nag. Boyfriends, or whatever Levi was to me, were so much more complicated than friendships. I wondered if I would ever feel as at ease with Levi as I did with Conner. I mentally flogged myself for comparing the two. That was a dangerously slippery slope I was bound and determine to avoid at all costs.

I decided to Windex the flavor menu while I waited for Conner. Distraction, distraction. I had made it through chocolate, vanilla, peanut butter, and was just wiping the blue liquid from peaches and cream when I heard Conner ask, “Who eats frozen yogurt this early in the morning?”

“Exactly!” I agreed, smiling to myself at how similar we were.

 

Conner hung around the shop for an hour before ditching me for the promise of big waves. The rest of my shift crawled by like a sea slug. Toby’s sister, Shawn, showed up to work for the afternoon shift and I went to the office to clock out. My time card was not in its regular slot, so I shuffled through a pile of papers on Marcy’s desk looking for it. My eyes froze on a piece of note paper with familiar printing; I picked it up carefully and read:

 

Mom,
I have decided I need to spend this summer with my dad.
Please understand that I need some space from you.
Don’t call me. I’ll call you.
Love,
Toby

 

There was something unsettling about reading Toby’s note to his mom. Something about it didn’t sound right. I put it back on the desk and left, forgetting about my timecard. I walked out to the front of the store and was about to leave, still thinking about the note. Shawn was slouched on the stool texting.

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