I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far. Next chapter we will be seeing the story through the point of view from a new character...hmmmm I wonder who that is. (As if it's hard to figure out). So anyway, I hope you like this latest chapter! Things are about to get a little more interesting...and semi-dramatic. Review please! :)
Molly's P.O.V
By the time I made it to my house my clothes were soaked through. On the way over to my dresser I slipped, my left leg shifting forward under me. I caught myself on the chair to my left and stood up straight, shedding Owen's now heavier jacket and dropping it on the floor. I peeled off my jeans, and left the pile of wet clothes on the floor. Once I got into my pajamas I fell onto my bed.
It was only the afternoon and I had nothing to do that day. I was stuck in my house for at least six hours with nothing to do and no one to talk to. After seriously regretting not letting Owen walk me home out of sheer loneliness, I thought about the options I had. I could sit here and die of boredom, I could sleep, or I could read. Then I jerked up. There was one thing I could do, read, and the only book I had to read was in my rucksack, that was still on the counter of the Inn.
The clock on the wall read just after three, and I sat there forever and thought about if I should go back and get it or if I should do the smart thing and stay home. Bored was better than endangered, and I knew that, but for some strange reason my feet had other plans. I struggled back into my already wet clothes, threw Owen's jacket over my shoulder, and trudged out into the rain.
To say the wind had picked up would be an understatement. Debris was flying through the air, thumping up against my clothes and whipping by me. Each step felt as though I had sandbags attached to my feet, and as I pushed forward I realized exactly how stupid I was being. I mean really? Risking my dying in a goddamn storm to read a book? What was wrong with me? But by the time I came to this epiphany I was already at the center of town, and in the distance I could see the Inn with light pouring out from the windows. I smiled slightly, grateful that I would soon be out of that storm, and right as I went to move my left foot forward I started to fall.
My foot didn't budge, and as I fell to the ground I screamed, landing onto my left side with a thud. When I opened my eyes I looked over at my foot that had sunken into the earth. "Shit," I mumbled. The mud was strong, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't pull free. The rain felt like ice as it pounded against my face, and when the first clap of thunder rumbled through the town I started to panic, pulling at my leg again and again until I fell back onto my elbows.
"Help!" I screamed. But nobody heard me. The rain fell so hard and the wind was so strong that it would be a miracle if someone heard me. So this is how it ends, I thought to myself. I am going to die because of a book. And after screaming for the millionth time I gave up, pulling my free leg up to my chest and holding it close to me. Okay, so I knew I wasn't going to die. But I was worried about my ankle, and I had no idea how long that storm was going to last, or if it would get even worse. It could be ages until somebody found me. And it was. It must have been an hour before he found me.
"What are you doing?"
His voice was soft, and if I hadn't been straining to hear it, it would have been swept away with the wind, but I did hear it, and it was probably the most amazing sound I had ever heard. I whipped my head around, my bangs sticking to my eyelashes and blurring my vision. And there was Chase, a giant umbrella hanging over his shoulder and my rucksack around his shoulders. Never in my life did I ever think I would be excited to see that boy, but man was I glad he was there.
"Thank God," I said quickly. "I've been stuck here forever."
His amethyst eyes traveled down to my foot and he scrunched his brow. "You seriously are stuck in that?" he asked.
"Yes. Now can you help me? Or get someone that can?"
Chase glared at me, handing me the umbrella and walking over to where the mud had me. After examining my leg for way too long (in my opinion) he walked back over behind me and wrapped his arms around my upper body. In spite of myself, my cheeks reddened. He held me up straight tightened his grip on me.
"Okay ready?" he asked. I could feel his breath tickle my ear, and to my surprise I could even speak. So instead I just nodded. He pulled and I squeaked in pain, and after a few seconds my foot popped out of the mud, causing Chase to stumbled backward and pull me back with him. At first I was frozen, hoping that I hadn't gotten stuck again, but when I opened my eyes Chase said, "Um, can you get off of me?"
I blushed again, rolling off of his legs and onto the muddy path underneath. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. But he didn't answer, he just stood up, trying his best to brush off his pants, and I moved my ankle, taking in a deep breath as my whole leg seized with pain.
"Does it hurt?" Chase asked.
When I looked up he was staring down at me with one hand extended to help me up. I was reluctant to take it, because even though he did get me un-stuck he was still a dick, but I took it anyway. "Yeah," I said as he eased me up slowly. "I mean it doesn't feel broken, but it hurts like a bitch."
It was still pouring, and my cheeks were red and raw from the wind, and I wanted desperately to get out of that storm. Chase's eyes wandered behind me, like he was in some sort of deep thought, and before I could ask for my rucksack he looked down at my left ankle that was still lifted off the ground and slipped his arm around my back. "Well, come on then. My house is closer than yours."
I stood alone in the middle of Chase's bathroom with nothing but my bra and underwear on, staring at a pile of dry clothes he had given me. It was cold, and I was freezing, and it still took me a good ten minutes to start getting dressed. Here I was, stuck in the house of the one person on the island that I actually disliked, and I had to wear his clothes. If I had another choice I would choose to stay as far away from Chase as I could, but obviously I had to stay.
Just as Chase had instructed me, I dropped the soaked clothes into the bathtub and left them there. On my way out of the bathroom I stopped in front of the mirror and studied myself. My hair was still wet, and the pieces that framed my face were stuck to my skin, and there were bits of twigs and leaves scattered throughout my hair. I tried to shake them out with my fingers, but for the most part, it was hopeless. There was a small bit of mascara left under my eyes, but the rest of my face was pale and colorless from the storm. My nose had even started to run.
On any other day maybe I would have been upset about my appearance, but I was with Chase after all. The worse I looked the better.
I stepped out into his hallway and was bombarded by the smell of that chicken potpie I had eaten at the Inn a few nights before. Down the hall I could see Chase standing at his counter, and I walked over and sat down at the table. When the seat squeaked he turned his head slightly to acknowledge me, but he didn't say a word. He just turned back to the bowl of mashed potatoes he was finishing and mixed. On the oven, a small potpie was cooling, and I stared at it and waited for him to speak.
"Are you hungry?" He didn't look at me.
"Yeah." I replied.
And that was all he said. For the next hour we sat in silence, eating our dinner with nothing but the sound of forks scraping against ceramic plates. I kept my eyes on my food, taking the occasional glance at Chase's face to try to read him, but I couldn't. His face was stone cold, much like it always was. Part of me wished that I could tell what he was thinking, even though I hated his guts. There was something there though, something intriguing, that made me want to know absolutely everything about him. And I hated that.
