Note from the Author: *insert disclaimer here...* Thanks for the reviews so far! I'm glad you're enjoying it. I just hope I can keep it going. ZOMG Pressure! Oh, and I've enabled anonymous reviews now, since I didn't realise I had it off before. I apologise for any OoCness from Vaughn; he is a problem character for me to write. ('-')"
Chapter Seven
Confrontation and Determination
After the dance was over and people had started filtering off of Meadow Island, Natalie and Julia convinced me to come along with them to the bar where there was apparently going to be an after-party of sorts. I was absolutely exhausted from all the clearing and cleaning I'd been doing that past week, but seeing Julia's eager face made me feel guilty and so I ended up going anyway. Needless to say, I ended up passing out in the corner only thirty minutes after arriving. I didn't wake up until an hour later when the owner of the bar set up the karaoke set and called Lanna up to sing.
"Great, just what I wanted to wake up to," I grumbled to no one in particular as she began to sing the ridiculous lyrics to 'Bubble Pop' which I had woken up to. No one heard me and so I slumped back into my seat until cheers and applause went up around me when Lanna had finished singing.
"Ah! Look! Chelsea's awake!" I suddenly heard someone say. I looked to where the voice was coming from and saw that it was Will, the blonde pretty boy that lived on the yacht at Sprout island's dock. "Denny, go and get those shots!" My first impression of Will was that he was probably the creepiest guy I've ever met. I don't know why he's creepy; he just is. I can't pin point whether it's the overuse of his hand gestures, the slightly insane look he gets in his eyes when he's excited or his ridiculously flowery language, but it all culminates into me getting the willies every time I see him – no pun intended.
I was still fatigued after my nap and I was barely able to wake myself up properly when suddenly a small shot glass filled with bright pink liquid was thrust into my hand. My eyes drifted from the shot glass to the table. There, on a plastic tray, were about seven shots that were in all the colours of the rainbow. I glanced up at everyone and saw that while most of the girls seemed preoccupied with the karaoke, the boys were staring at me with an unnatural amount of interest. I suddenly felt like a lamb in a lion's den.
"I don't really feel like drinking," I told them bluntly, putting the shot glass down on the table gently. "Why do you want me to do shots anyway?"
"Oh, come now dear heart," Will urged me, looking disheartened that I wasn't interested. "This is our welcome gift to you, our beautiful new flower. Since we haven't had much of a chance to spend time with you since you arrived, we thought we'd do something nice for you. Besides, Denny's already bought them now. We couldn't possibly take them back."
My eyes darted over to the handsome fisherman who was smiling apologetically at me and I felt myself blush. Guilty, I picked the shot up again and inspected it warily. It was fluorescent pink and probably had an insane amount of e-numbers in it. "Cheers?" I said unsurely, raising the shot glass up in a mock toast. I then gulped down the shot and slammed the glass back on the table as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. It tasted like alcoholic strawberries and I had to stop myself from gagging.
"Oh god, what is that?" I asked disgustedly, pulling a face at the flavour.
"It's Will's favourite drink," Denny said. "Frais de bois." Go figures that it'd be some posh sounding French crap. I resisted the urge to wipe it off my tongue and eyed the other shots warily. I was starting to feel dizzy and really didn't want to drink the rest of the shots, but I felt guilty because Denny had just bought all of them for me. Alcohol was not cheap at that bar, as I had seen on the way in when I scanned the drinks list above the bar. As a result of it being so remote, alcohol on the Sunshine Islands was a great deal more expensive than back in the city. I eyed Will and Denny sourly before I reached over to take another shot, a purple one this time.
"You don't have to if you're not feeling well," Denny said suddenly, reaching across to stop me. When our hands touched, I looked up to find that his face was just a few inches away from mine. "Don't drink it," he told me, his eyes filled with concern. "You should go home and rest. I don't know why Julia dragged you here when you're so tired." He turned towards the group of girls that were crowded around the karaoke song-list book and called sternly, "Julia, bring Chelsea home. She's not up for this tonight."
I stared up at Denny with admiration and gratitude. A lock of his curly hair had somehow escaped his bandana and fell into his face so charmingly that I wanted to reach out and play with it.
"Oh Chelsea, I'm sorry! Julia said, cringing as she hurried over and started helping me up. "I'm really really sorry. I didn't realise you were this unwell."
"Unwell?" I parroted.
She put a hand to my forehead. "You're all flushed. You've got a fever."
Oh great, I thought. I'm sick already and I've only been here a week. I remember hearing Julia and Denny arguing about where they should bring me, since they couldn't leave me alone at home, and they eventually settled on bringing me back to Julia's place. Natalie and Julia pretty much had to drag me there and when we got inside I saw to my abject horror that Vaughn was sitting at the back of the shop with a magazine. He took one look at me as we came in and said, "As I said, stupid."
"Go fuck yourself," I said viciously before I could stop myself.
He stiffened and Julia jumped. I shocked even myself. Natalie didn't seem that surprised by my outburst though and merely hurried me up the stairs as Vaughn watched us, his mouth hanging open in outrage.
After that everything seemed a bit like a blur. I remember thinking that I was glad I hadn't planted my first lot of seeds yet, since I wouldn't have been around to water them if I had. My two friends had put me to bed up in Julia's room and nursed me through the night as I slept dreamlessly. I hadn't realised how sick I was until I woke up in the early hours of the morning before the sun had risen. I was covered in sweat and there was a stale taste in my mouth from the liquor shot a few hours earlier. Glancing across the room, I saw Julia asleep in an armchair while Natalie was curled up on the floor like a cat, with covers thrown over her. I was surprised to see her there, since I thought she would have gone home, and felt warmed at the fact that she had been worried enough to stick around.
I forced myself to rest for a few more hours and when I woke up again later that morning I was greeted by a painful throbbing in my head and my lips felt horribly dry from dehydration. "Get up," someone to my left said. The voice was deep and sexy but I didn't immediately connect the dots and realise who it was. I blinked at the sudden burst of light as someone wrenched the curtains in the room open and after my eyes adjusted I shrieked when I saw who it was. Vaughn stood by the curtains sullenly.
"W-What are you doing here?" I yelled, pulling the bedcovers up over myself in mortification. I clearly remembered what had happened the night before and still felt quite pissed with him for calling me stupid not just once, but twice.
"Mirabelle told me to wake you up since breakfast is ready. Julia went round to Taro's place to cajole Elliot into doing your farm chores for today and Natalie's disappeared somewhere," he explained, taking a seat in the armchair which Julia had been asleep in before. "You really are a moron."
"Yes, you've made it quite clear to me how you see me," I snapped. Three times...
"You should be more responsible than this. You've got everyone ridiculously worried about you just because you pushed yourself to the limit. I know that Julia is partly to blame, but it's still your fault for not standing up to her. Do you always let yourself get pushed around by other people? Grow a back bone."
"Stop talking to me as if you know me," I spat back angrily. I was incensed that he had the nerve to tell me off when he didn't even know me. Okay, sure, he was right, but I was still sick and didn't take too kindly to being chastised by a stranger when I'd only just opened my eyes.
"You're right, I don't know you, but I know that you're stupid."
"And I know that you're a prick," I yelled back. I heard a clatter of pots and voices downstairs, but ignored it. "You don't know jack shit about me and yet you've got the nerve to judge me. Who the fuck do you think you are?"
His expression darkened and he rose from his seat. I thought he was going to leave the room but instead he suddenly closed in on me and was leaning over the bed with his hands either side of me, his face only a couple of inches away from mine. His eyes burned with rage and I flinched back instinctively, a shiver running up my spine as I stared up at him. He was trying to scare me and it was working.
"Don't use that coarse language with me, city girl. I know enough about you to know that your motivation for being here is appalling and quite frankly childish," he said quietly, his eyes remaining fixed on mine as I stared up at him fearfully. Taro had obviously told him. "You need to grow up and go back to where you came from because you don't belong here. I don't want your sort influencing my cousin."
I expected him to move away after this, but he didn't and we stayed stock still, silently looking at each other. Although I was quite frightened of him, I was still somehow affected by his good looks and I felt my heart beating an erratic rhythm in my chest at his nearness. I hated myself for finding himself so attractive. I felt like a magnet trying to struggle away from something it's attracted to and I was all but squirming from his proximity. Meanwhile, his gaze seemed to slowly soften and I saw his eyes drop lower towards my lips. I might have imagined it, but I thought that he was beginning to lean in and close the gap between us but suddenly the door to the room was thrown wide open. I rolled over onto my side and Vaughn looked over his shoulder.
"What on earth are you doing?" Mirabelle yelled, seeing Vaughn leaning towards me as I cowered away from him. He obviously looked quite menacing because Mirabelle looked thunderously angry at the position we were in. "Get away from her this minute! How dare you bully a young woman when she's sick? Get back, get back!" Mirabelle rushed forward and pretty much dragged Vaughn away from me, smacking him around the back of the head as if he was a naughty child that had been caught putting his hand in the cookie jar. I must admit, I was quite impressed by her strength. "I told you to wake her up, not accost her in that unsightly fashion! You're just like your father! Out! OUT!"
"Mirabelle, it's alright," I said, trying to placate her as Vaughn flinched at her strikes and started retreating out of the room.
"No, it's not alright!" Mirabelle replied crossly. "He's always like this with people!"
I was surprised that Vaughn wasn't protesting and I heard his heavy footsteps heading down the stairs as Mirabelle turned to me, looking flustered. I think that was probably one of the funniest things I've ever seen in my life and I had to cover my hand over my mouth to hide the smirk I was wearing. Once she was calmer, Mirabelle turned to me and asked, "Would you like some breakfast dear?" She asked it almost as if she hadn't just bitch slapped a grown man out of the room.
"Y-Yes please," I mumbled, struggling to contain my laughter as I followed Mirabelle down the stairs while replaying the memory over in my head.
I tried not to dwell too much on what had just happened between Vaughn and I, but I found it hard to stop thinking about it when I entered the kitchen and found him sat that dining table with a newspaper in hand. His eyes slinked over me as I came in before they returned back to his newspaper as if nothing had happened. I thought to myself that I probably imagined him leaning towards me. It was quite obvious he hated me.
After hurriedly eating some breakfast, I went back up to Julia's room and looked around for my mobile phone so I could phone Julia. I still felt kind of crabby, but I didn't want to inconvenience anyone further and I was eager to get back to my farm. I had seeds to plant and I needed to commission Gannon to fix up the barn so I could start raising livestock. When I found my phone I saw that I had several missed calls. They were all from Mark. I wasn't sure what came over me, but for some reason I pressed the call button.
"Chelsea," he breathed on the end of the phone when he picked up on the first ring.
I didn't say anything for a moment as I tried to conquer the sudden rush of emotion I felt at hearing his voice again. I collapsed to my knees and tried not to cry, my grip on my phone tightening painfully. He sounded so forlorn and glad to hear from me.
"What do you want?" I croaked out. "Why do you keep calling me?"
"I miss you," he said, his voice sounding as broken as my own.
I covered my mouth to stop myself from saying anything. I wanted to ask him to take me back. I wanted to return to his side, which had always been a place of comfort for me. I wanted to feel his arms around me again, comforting me and telling me that everything would be alright. I felt empty knowing that he wasn't there for me anymore. I wanted to tell him that I still loved him, still needed him. But my pride wouldn't let me; he had wounded me and I didn't want to set myself up for injury again. Once bitten, twice shy, or so the saying goes.
I buried the words I longed to say and wiped my eyes as I steeled myself. "Sorry Mark, I can't do this. Please, don't call me anymore." I hung up and dropped the phone as I started bawling my eyes out.
After crying for what felt like hours but was actually only a few minutes, I hurriedly got dressed in the clothes that Julia had laid out for me and thanked Mirabelle before heading home. I completely ignored Vaughn as I passed him. Holding my head up and sticking my chin up indignantly, I tried my best to look confident, determined and over my illness as I headed back home, but inside I was shaking. Speaking to Mark had rocked my determination to stay on the farm, to compete with him. I wanted to run to him, to forgive him and beg him to take me back. And I knew he wanted me to.
Stood before the endless fields of my farm, I felt despair fall over me when I realised how long it would take for me to clear it all. I had only managed to clear a small part of it since arriving, having been distracted by the festival, moving all my stuff into the farmhouse, sorting out utility bills and various other odd jobs. Would it even be worth planting the strawberry seeds I'd just bought? Would they mature in time before the seasons changed? Was it really worth staying here? The thought of the ceaseless work I would have to do dragged on my determination and I felt my knees give way. I was wimp. I wanted to give up already and it hadn't been a full week yet.
But then, I got the kick up the ass that I needed.
My phone beeped at me and I pulled it out to see I'd gotten a message. It was from Ellie. When I opened the message I saw that it wasn't a picture of her and Trent as I had been expected, but was instead a picture of Mark at a bar I didn't recognise, with a pretty blonde wearing a maid's outfit sitting on his lap. And he was grinning. At first I thought to myself how maybe it was an accident and that maybe someone had pushed the girl into his lap, but as I peered closely at the picture and zoomed in, I saw that he had laced his fingers with hers and that his other hand was placed comfortably on her upper thigh. I felt utterly betrayed. Struggling to stay calm as I looked down at the picture, I had to consciously tell myself not to break my phone in fury. Instead, I decided to do something else. I took a picture of my farm and sent it to Ellie, Trent, Skye and my dad and then snapped it shut.
I then worked like a madwoman. For the entire day I slaved away at clearing the field, pulling up weeds, shifting rocks and chopping up logs in the way. Even though I was still weak with a fever, I kept working, shooing Julia and Natalie off when they came over to tell me to return to bed. I would sleep once I was done clearing, I had told them. Their protests fell on deaf ears when they tried to convince me to just rest first. My burning desire for revenge, to win against and beat Mark consumed me. It gave me the energy to work tirelessly regardless of how weak I felt. Whenever I felt the tug of fatigue I would pull out my phone and stare at the picture until I felt angry enough to continue. Rage is fantastic motivator.
When I was finally done in the early hours of the morning I pulled my phone out one more time and took a picture of the cleared field. I sent it to the four same people as before and then trudged into my farmhouse where I passed out on my living room couch, dreaming of dancing vegetables, cowboy hats and Mark.