Note: (Blinks) Sixty-six reviews? Am I reading this right? That's a lot of feedback for six chapters! I'm happy, though, because I really am putting a lot of thought and work into this story, and the fact that so many people are enjoying it makes it all the more worthwhile. This chapter is the longest yet (I'm pretty proud of it), and it's gonna have one of the spoilers in it. (Not one of the super-secret ones, but one that you may have suspected.) Next week's chapter, though, has the Karen secret! Heck yes! Read and review, please.
Chapter Seven: Blackout
Life has never been fair. By my age, you'd be an idiot to expect it to be. Innocent people get caught in crossfires, criminals get bailed out of jail, and some people have to spend their entire life working just to survive. When you put it like that, life seems like a very trivial and trying thing.
But for some reason, we cling to it regardless of the pain we endure.
"Good morning, Zack," I said to the shipper with a yawn. He cocked an eyebrow at me in surprise as he shouldered a package on his back.
"You're up awful early, Claire," he commented. "Normally, you're not up until somewhere between ten o'clock and noon."
I shrugged. "Well, you know, this whole wedding thing has got my sleeping schedule all out of sorts. That shipment for Popuri?"
"I reckon so," he replied. "I don't think anyone else would be ordering so much right now."
"Good point," I agreed, letting out a small laugh. "No one else really has much need for anything, huh?"
"Well, unless you count the letters," Zack added, depositing the parcel in front of the door to the Snack Shack.
"Letters?"
He nodded. "That's how people keep in touch in Mineral Town," he informed me. "You don't expect us to be using fancy things like e-mail or cell-phones, do ya? Things like that are too hard to come by; besides, we're pretty simple people."
"Well, I'm not trying to say that mail by letters is bad or anything," I tried to explain myself. "I just didn't know that there were too many people outside of here to keep in touch with. Do people get letters a lot?"
"Oh, sure," Zack told me knowingly. "Ann gets 'em all the time."
I blinked. "She does?"
"Well, she and Popuri usually get the most mail," he sighed, scratching his head as he delved into his memory-banks. "Of course, Kai's in town, so there's not as much lately…though I'm willing to bet I have a letter from Cliff with me today."
"Who for?"
"Ann, of course," he chuckled. "Didn't I already say that?"
Ann. Cliff. I sensed a relationship. At least some parts of the puzzle were coming together. Though really, I suppose it would have been ridiculous to expect her to have fallen in love with Jack after her little spiel, though my thoughts on Cliff were still a bit foggy at this point. All I knew about the guy was that he had been Kai's friend and roommate.
Then again, Kai did have impeccable taste in friends.
"Anything from Jack?" I asked, mentally trying to piece this maddening riddle together.
"Jack?" Zack blinked at me in confusion. "Why would he write here?"
Huh. Not exactly the response I had expected, I'll admit.
"Well, maybe to Karen or something," I said lamely. "Didn't the two of them--?"
"Karen would have been better off if she had never met that Jack scoundrel," Zack growled, his usually easy-going attitude replaced with a look of strong resolve and…hatred?
"Not many people like the guy, huh?" I commented, stating the obvious.
"Claire, I don't mean to be disrespecting anybody, but I'm sure glad that farmer is gone," he grunted, starting back towards his ship for the final package. "But enough about him. How are you lately? I don't get to talk to you that much anymore."
I twirled a strand of my hair and nodded. "Weddings are busy," I answered. "And Kai's here, so I haven't gotten to do much stuff around the farm. Not as much as I should, anyway."
"That explains the decrease in shipments."
"I guess so."
I kicked the sand in boredom as he picked up the load and carried it over to the door of the Snack Shack. Jack, Jack, Jack…everyone seemed to have a story that came to mind at his name, but I was drawing a blank. No matter how hard I tried to draw conclusions, I only saw a sheet of white.
Why did Rick have to tell me about that blasted blue feather, anyway?
Zack obviously seemed to think that our conversation was over, so I simply walked off along the coast. The sand crunched under my sneakers, and as the tide came in I felt the saltwater soak my socks. Annoying as it was, I didn't bother to take them off. I suppose I was too lazy.
"Hey, Claire!"
I didn't even bother to turn around; I knew instinctively that it was Popuri who had spoken.
"Did you get a good night's sleep?" she asked me concernedly.
"Let's see: dark circles under my eyes, messy bed-head, the zombiefied look on my face—don't you think it's obvious, Popuri?" I sighed, not in the mood for guessing games, long ramblings, or wedding plans.
Her grin faltered a bit and she muttered a little, "Oh…that's too bad."
"Yeah, it sucks," I agreed. "What's up?"
"The reception," she told me. "We think we're going to hold it at Doug's—but we're not sure about entertainment and such."
"What does Kai think?"
Popuri laughed. "He thinks that I'm going overboard on this wedding. But he said entertainment was okay, as long as it didn't cost much."
"So, you want me to help you find someone who performs for cheap?" I questioned. "How would I know that?"
"I don't know…I guess I thought that you'd have seen a lot of weddings in the city," she shrugged. "What do people usually do?"
I bit my lip and tried to think back to my life in the city. In reality, I'd only really been to two weddings: my cousin's and some coworker of mine's. So, I wasn't exactly an expert.
"Well…there are these people called wedding singers," I said. "They sing songs, people dance, and that's pretty much it."
"Oh, Karen could sing!" Popuri exclaimed, her eyes shining.
"Karen?"
"She has the most gorgeous voice," Popuri assured me. "Really, she'd be perfect!"
I cocked my head thoughtfully. "Um, if you say so," I shrugged finally. "I don't know, I haven't talked to her that much, so I wouldn't know."
"Ricky gets along with her really well," Popuri nodded. "Maybe he could ask!"
"Does Karen…um…have anything against Kai?" I asked curiously. "Because Rick seems to, and—"
"Karen likes Kai," Popuri insisted. "She respects him, I guess. He's one of the few people that can out-drink her!"
I stifled a laugh.
"What's so funny?" Popuri questioned.
"Kai—hahaha! Just remembering this one time---" I paused and tried to breathe. "Kai raided his parents' wine when we were twelve, okay? I dared him to drink a whole bottle."
"Claire, that's dangerous--!"
"And he—haha!—he got drunk really fast. He didn't even finish the bottle. His dad came in to see Kai dancing on the kitchen table. It was priceless!" I laughed.
Popuri didn't look amused. "Why would you suggest something so hazardous?" she accused me. "He could have gotten hurt!"
"Well, he didn't, okay?" I retorted, crossing my arms. "It's no big deal."
"…I just…if he got hurt because of something stupid like that…" She turned her ruby eyes away from me and let out a sigh. "Um, I'm going to go ask Rick if he'll ask Karen to be the wedding singer. Okay?"
"Fine with me," I answered, a little irked by her righteous attitude. Really, hadn't she done reckless things like that when she was young? Geez.
What right did she have to criticize me, anyway? She had won, hadn't she? Popuri received the feather. She received the letters. She received the right to his heart.
A right that I had let slip away.
"Where were you?" Kai asked as I arrived at his doorstep. "You normally get here way earlier than this."
"Volleyball," I groaned, sitting myself beside him on the porch bench. "Our psycho coach has us practicing every day for two hours."
"But you suck at sports."
"I know."
This caused Kai to laugh, and as he saw my glare, he tried to compose himself. It didn't work.
"It's not that funny, okay?" I groaned. "Everyone on the team hates my guts—one person told me that she'd rather have Shelly here with her broken leg than me."
"That's pretty harsh," he commented, putting his arm around me comfortingly. "But you're good at other stuff, right?"
"Like what?"
Kai blinked; apparently he hadn't actually thought of anything yet. "Well…okay, sports-wise, you're a dud. But you know, you're an awesome friend, Claire. How many people can say that they've had the same best friend since they were four years old?"
"…Is that…all I am?" I whispered.
"What?"
"Is that all I am?" I repeated, turning to him with furious blue eyes. "Kai, am I just a friend to you?"
He stared at me, his mouth open in shock at my accusation. I sighed at his non-responsiveness and propped my head up on my hands. "Come on, you must have thought about us dating at some point. Don't deny it; I'd be surprised if you hadn't considered it at some time or another. But you know, I guess…I guess it's all for the best, isn't it?"
"Claire…what are you saying?"
His oblivious statement fueled a repressed anger within me, and I stood up. I felt tears springing to my eyes, but I paid them no heed; at this point, signs of weakness didn't really matter. After all I'd already said, there was no turning back.
"I'm not an idiot, okay?!" I snapped. "I mean, homecoming should have made it clear to me to start with. I'm just…I'm just a replacement for her, aren't I? If you can't have Nikki, you have to fall back on your pathetic little friend Claire!"
"Listen, you don't know—"
"But you're the one who doesn't know, Kai!" I screamed, my cheeks moist from my tears. "I've been hiding it for so long—I thought by now, you'd know, but—you're such an idiot! I'm not some rag doll from your childhood that you can toss into the closet when you find something better—and you can't drag me out when you don't get what you want! I'm a person, Kai! I have feelings, and right now I feel…betrayed. Because…because…I love you, you idiot!"
I covered my face in shame as I found that I couldn't stop crying. How selfish of me. Selfish, indulgent, and vain. The only way for me to summon the courage to confess how I felt was to lose him to another girl.
I suppose that…is the shame of envy.
Suddenly I felt his arms wrapped tightly about my waist, and his head resting on my shoulder. He brought his mouth up to my ear, and I heard him whisper, "Claire…you're the idiot. I've waited twelve years to hear you say that to me."
His lips brushed against my own for a single, surreal moment.
And what I wouldn't give to make that moment last forever.
The sun glared down on me, and I squinted my eyes as I stared at the horizon. The water wasn't so crystal clear today; the blue water was tinted with a rather icky shade of green. Not very pleasing to the eyes, I'll admit.
"What are you looking at?"
I turned to see Rick standing behind me, and I faced the sea once again with a little "humph." After yesterday, he was the last person I wanted to see.
"The ocean," I said, rolling my eyes. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Not much of a view today, huh?" he commented.
"Why are you here?" I asked, avoiding his small-talk. "I thought Popuri was looking for you."
He shrugged. "She'll find me eventually. It shouldn't be too hard, seeing as we live in the same house."
"…Yeah, I guess," I replied, watching the seagulls circle in the sky. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Are you still having those dreams?" Rick asked me instead, ignoring my not-so-subtle request for him to leave.
"My dreams?"
He nodded. "From the looks of it, you still aren't getting much rest."
"Are you insulting me--?!"
"No, not at all!" he insisted, a little shocked at my reaction. "It's just…you don't look well."
"Well, farming isn't exactly a piece of cake," I told him. "It's pretty tough to handle that, a wedding, and to be running on practically zero sleep."
"Don't wear yourself out, okay?"
His concern was unexpected. I swerved about to see the worried look in his topaz eyes, and suddenly I felt confused. Hadn't he been the one to act like a jerk yesterday? Hadn't he treated me like dirt? Why wasn't he--
"I—I'll be alright," I muttered. "Hey, about making you help with the wedding—look, I'm—"
"Don't worry about it," he assured me. "I'll…get over it. Listen, I know yesterday I kind of took my frustration out on you. It's not you I'm mad at, I'm just—when he's around, I--" He struggled to sort out his thoughts into words and let out a deep sigh. "Never mind."
For a while, we just stood there on the beach, quietly gazing at the ugly sea and wrestling with our inner emotions. Rick had apologized…in his own Rick-like way. That didn't excuse the fact that he'd acted like a moron, but at least it proved he wasn't heartless. Maybe…there were some saving graces to the guy after all.
Maybe.
"You know…you're not the only one with bad dreams," Rick said, clearing his throat a bit. "People say that it's best to talk about them with someone."
"And you think you're classified to be that someone?"
He shrugged. "It couldn't hurt, could it?"
I blushed and looked away. "Well…it's a little odd, really. In my nightmare, I'm always standing on the shore of the beach—except it's beautiful and calm and welcoming, not like now. And as I'm watching the waves, suddenly I see someone standing on a sandbar in the distance."
"Someone?" Rick repeated.
"Yeah…" I bit my lip and decided not to mention the name of the bandana-clad traveler that penetrated my dreams. "And he's waving, calling to me to join him. But for some reason, I'm scared…and I can't. I shout to him, and I say that the distance is too far, that the ocean's too deep. I beg him to come over to the shore instead, where I'm standing, where it's dry and safe."
"…Does he?"
"No," I whispered, closing my eyes. "He walks away. Then I feel this incredible wave of despair crashing down on me, and suddenly I can't stand still any longer. I dive into the water and thrash about in the waves, screaming for him to wait up, that I'm coming. But…the tide is rolling in, and I find that I can't stay afloat much longer as the ocean drags me down. He disappears into the distance, and I am left alone…drowning in the tide."
Rick tried to speak but found that he was speechless. The sound of the waves crashing and the gulls crying filled the silence between us, and the wind roared in our ears.
"…Rick, it's just a dream," I spoke finally, trying to force a laugh. "Don't take it so seriously. C'mon, you don't think there's some deep, psychological reason for it, do you?"
"Are you sure you're alright, Claire?" he insisted, his voice soft and thick with concern.
"Of course I'm alright," I assured him, turning to walk away. "I'm just not feeling—" I blinked at the sky as sunspots began to obscure my vision. "Not feeling—well." The heat of the day was crushing me, and my head felt strangely woozy. Why…why was it suddenly so hard to stand?
"Claire…Claire?!"
I heard startled shouts of surprise as I fell into the poultry farmer's arms, collapsing from heat and exhaustion into a state of darkness.
Blackout.
