Don't look back

As I open the door to step out of my car, I am immediately greeted by the magnificent sound of waves crashing down on the shore.

I take off my shoes and socks, and leave them behind in my vehicle, before I head down towards the beach, barefoot.

I take a look all around me and take in with satisfaction that the empty parking lot has not betrayed me: I am alone.

It's just the way it used to be. No one in Newport gets up this early to go to the beach. Those people really have no idea of what they're missing.

The sun is still very low in the sky and the sand beneath my feet has the perfect temperature. I know from experience that by noon it will be too hot for one to stand on one spot longer than a few seconds.

Slowly, I stroll along the beach, admiring the beautiful sea with its magnificent waves. I feel an aching in my heart, a longing to grab a board and ride those waves like in old times.

I smile as memory flashes of me and my surf buddies fill my head. I can feel the wind in my wet hair and the rush of adrenaline as I ride my largest wave yet.

I walk on a little further and then let myself down on the sand, burying my feet in it.

The spot I sit on is not one I chose by chance. There are maybe half a dozen places on this Earth that mean something to me, and this is one of them.

It is the place I came to ever so often whenever I wanted to be alone, whenever I had something major to think about. It is the place I used to come to, to witness the turning of the tide.

It is the place I kissed Marissa for the first time.

That was ten years ago.

Ten years.

Sometimes it seems like an eternity… and then again it seems to me as if it was only yesterday that I say her beautiful face for the last time. I remember so clearly the pain I felt when I turned away, the pain I tried to mask with a smile.

I walked away with my friends on this very beach, never looking back.

That was what I told myself when I packed my things and left Newport, don't look back.

Even after weeks, when the wounds had finally begun to heal, I still caught myself from time to time hoping she would call me.

But I forced every thought of Marissa out of my head, telling myself over and over again, not to look back.

So I did the best I could to look forward. I went back to school for two years and graduated.

At that point the wounds Marissa had inflicted upon my heart had mended to such an extent that I was able to think of her without hurting immediately.

I began to daydream about going back to Newport, to see her again. Maybe there was the slightest chance…

Well, at least we could be friends again. I was sure she'd be happy to see me and I realized how desperately I wanted to see her again – even if she might be married to Ryan.

It was summer break and I had just graduated from high school. So what's holding me back?, I thought. Nothing, really, was the only answer I could come up with, so I packed a few things into my ever fateful jeep.

After more than two years of remembering, thinking, dreaming, I finally got into that jeep Marissa loved so much, and drove back to Newport. I needed no map; that route is one I will know by heart forever.

Again and again I imagined all possible scenarios that could be awaiting me in the O.C.

My least favorite one was that Marissa had moved away – in that case I'd ask for her current address. I swore to myself that I'd go and see her no matter what – even if I'd have to go all the way to the East Coast, or maybe even Europe? Distance would not stop me, I told myself.

My favorite scenario was very much different.

I smile to myself and close my eyes to the beautiful sight before me, dreaming once more my all-time favorite dream.

*

I park my jeep in the empty parking lot and walk down the beach. I sit down on my special place and admire the sea, the waves, the soon-to-be setting sun.

I have just arrived in Newport and I'm very excited.

I desperately want to see Marissa, but I have decided to sit here for a while and later spend the night at a hotel. Then, tomorrow, I'll go look for her. I guess I'll try the Cohen's house first; unlike the Coopers, the Cohens are sure to still be living where they used to.

So, I sit here, lost in thought, when suddenly I hear someone exclaim my name.

Alex!?

I quickly turn my head to my right and there she stands, beautiful as ever.

I feel my heart beating almost painfully against my chest and watch as the surprise on her face makes way for joy.

Alex! she calls out once more and rushes forward to meet me. I stand up and then her arms are locked around me and the scent of her hair fills my nose.

Marissa, I mumble dazed.

We hold each other, tightly, for a long moment, then she pulls back an arm's length, mustering me as if to make sure it's really me.

I smile at her, suddenly feeling shy, and though there are so many things I want to say to her, right now I can't think of a single one.

She smiles back. She asks me what I am doing here. I tell her, straightforward. I am here to see her.

Her smile broadens. Then she begins to talk. And then I talk.

We spend the next few days telling us everything that has happened the past two years.

And then, at some point, the past doesn't matter anymore.

Suddenly we, Marissa and I, are all that matters.

We go back to the beach one evening. And we sit next to each other, chatting and laughing, just like on our first date.

We fall silent.

Tide just turned, I say softly.

We look at each other intently for a moment.

The Marissa tilts her head to one side.

How do you know? she asks, somewhat skeptically, but smiling.

She turns her head to the sea and I smile at her frown.

How do you tell?

I take her hand and she looks back at me again. I stare into her eyes and my next words come out as barely more than a whisper.

I feel it, I say simply. I feel that something major has just changed.

Yeah, I feel it, too, she responds, mesmerized, and our lips meet in the sweetest of all kisses.

*

I open my eyes and am startled to see that I am no longer alone. The beach is beginning to fill up and I feel it's time to go.

I return to my jeep – my second one – and put socks and shoes back on.

As I drive down the road, I can't help but sigh out loud. I wish so badly, that my dream was reality. But it isn't. Everything turned out so differently.

I never went to the beach that summer, eight years ago. I arrived in Newport in the late afternoon and headed directly to the Cohen's.

I parked my jeep in their drive way and rang the bell. Almost instantly, I was greeted by a first shocked and overwhelmed, then overjoyed Seth. He thrust his arms around me and I remember being immensely grateful that he isn't overly brawny, or he would have crushed me, I'm sure.

He let go of me, gave me another astonished look and then grabbed my arm and practically dragged me into the kitchen.

Look who's here! he called out.

Everyone, it seemed, had been about to sit down and have dinner. Now, instead, they turned to stare at me. I guess I was the last person they'd expected to turn up.

Alex! Sandy was the first one to recover from the shock.

Wow, what a surprise! Welcome!

Hey, I said, grinning a bit shyly. I've always felt like some sort of an intruder when it comes to the Cohen family.

I hope I'm not interrupting… I looked at the dinner table, all set. Okay, obviously I am. How about I just come back later…

Nonsense! Seth exclaimed, tightening is hold on my arm, which he had never let go.

How about you join us for dinner, Alex, Kirsten asked politely.

Yeah! Don't even think about just turning up here and then just leaving again!, came Summer's voice from behind me.

I spun round – Seth finally let go of me – and smiled at Marissa's best friend.

Summer! I exclaimed happily. If Summer was there, maybe Marissa would turn up, too…

It's good to see you, Summer said, smiling, and we hugged.

Next, Ryan came up to me and we exchanged somewhat awkward 'heys' and a quick handshake.

So, shall we? Sandy said light-heartedly and we all sat down at the table, Kirsten quickly adding a plate and cutlery for me.

They asked me what I'd been up to, and I told them.

So, you two are still together, I noted at some point, referring to Summer and Seth. They both smiled, confirming.

Everyone took turns telling me recent bits and pieces out of their lives.

Finally, when we were through with the main course and about to enjoy our desert, I couldn't hold it any longer.

So, I began, how's Marissa these days?

Suddenly everyone fell silent. I looked at Seth, Summer, Ryan in turn, but they all looked down at their plates.

What? I asked, swallowing hard, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed in my throat.

*

I park my car in front of the gates and take a deep breath before I get out. I look for the person in charge and ask him where she is. He points out the way.

It feels so unreal as I walk down this earthy path. I feel as if I'm sleepwalking, and as ever so often my dream leads me to her, to Marissa.

But this is no dream, this is reality.

It's been ten years since I've last seen her.

And it's been eight years since I found out that I'd never see her again. Eight long years – that's how long it took me to gather the strength to finally pay her a last visit.

And now I'm here.

A beautiful marble stone, with her beautiful name engraved into it.

I kneel down and close my eyes. I allow the sorrow that I try so hard to push away to engulf me. There are no words to describe what I feel in this moment.

I don't know how long I sit here, mourning. At some point I get up and touch the gravestone with a shaky hand.

I never stayed for desert that evening eight years ago. I sat there for some more minutes, paralyzed and listened to what had happened to Marissa. Then I left.

My fingers trace the letters on the white, cold stone.

I've always hated good-byes. But this one is my toughest yet.

I sigh deeply. And then I turn away.

I walk away and I don't look back..

I've still got so much ahead of me – a whole life to live. We'll meet again, one day, I'm sure. Though it won't be the kind of reunion I'd hoped for, the kind of reunion I'd dreamed of.

I sigh once more, then I leave the graveyard, leave Newport, and I don't look back.

Strangely, I feel better now. The stitches have been removed. The scars will hurt from time to time, I'm sure, but it'll be okay, as long as I don't scratch at the old wounds.

I'm still going to think of Marissa frequently and I'm surely going to sit down and look at old pictures every now and again.

But I'll never return to Newport again, that is something I know for sure.

A/N: I sat down in a park a few days ago and wrote this little fic. I only stopped when I was so damn cold that I feared I'd get ill if I stayed any longer... XD So I finished it at home. Hope you liked it, a bit depressing, as ever so often, I know.

Btw, no worries, I haven't abandoned my vampire fic.

Cheers!
Elanor