Chapter 22 – Close Encounters
Marissa knocked on the door of the pool house. The blinds were down so she could not see in. The setting sun cast its dying ember glow over the watery surface of the pool in a glorious last show of defiance. Near the horizon above the vast clear blue ocean hung a dark gang of heavy clouds marauding their ominous way towards land. A sharp biting wind blew fiercely through the evening air causing Marissa to pull her cardigan tightly around her thin shoulders. The faint sound of slow guitar music drifted down from the top of the house.
Ryan lay silently on his bed in a pair of black jeans and white t-shirt looking up at the pattern of the ceiling above him. He counted, re-counted the various dots then starting to mentally connect them making random pictures in his mind. His thoughts drifted to Luke and Marissa walking hand-in-hand and he winced. His only movement was the rising and falling of his chest. His untidy clump of hair had woven itself into a maze of displacement. His arms were stretched out by his side with his wrists turned upwards. He heard the rapping on his door but did not move. He didn't have the energy to get up. His body cried out not to move. His muscles slacked, his legs grew heavy, and mind became lazy. He didn't shift his gaze from the patterns on the ceiling. He wanted to be left alone. He heard the rapping again. He forced himself to sit up. He groaned as he lifted his body into an upright position. His legs hit the ground with a thud. The rapping on the door grew louder. He clenched his muscles and pulled himself to his feet. For a moment he felt light-headed but that quickly passed. He walked slowly to the door, put his hand on the handle, and hesitated. Then with a flourish he opened the door to reveal Marissa, her clenched fist heading directly towards his head.
He opened his eyes. He was lying on the bed again. A sudden throbbing feeling struck his head like lightning. He closed his eyes and winced. He heard movement above him and then felt the cold smoothing feel of a damp cloth placed on his forehead. He opened his eyes. Marissa stood over him. Her hand pressed against the cloth, a look of concern in her eyes. She smiled above seeing his eyes flick open. "I thought you were a tough guy." She joked.
"I thought your boyfriend was the violent one." He fired back.
He instantly regretted saying it. The smile disappeared from Marissa's face. She lifted her hand off the cloth and retreated away from his bed. "Yeah, well, sorry for hitting you." She said her eyes avoiding his.
He pulled the cloth off his face and felt the developing bruise on his forehead. "I can't believe I got knocked out by a girl." He said with a subtle grin.
Marissa put her hands on her hips. "You want another one?"
"No." He laughed. "Definitely not." He paused. "You know, you can't tell anyone about this."
"Yeah, wouldn't want to ruin your reputation." She said with a smile.
He got up from the bed struggling for a moment to get his balance. "I was thinking of yours."
A silence developed between the two. The mood became serious. The glancing exchange filled with more tension. Marissa scanned the pool house noticing its tidy appearance. "So, anyway, I was just wondering how you are."
"I'm fine." Ryan said quickly.
"Good." Marissa said realising the underlying anger in Ryan's eyes. "About me and Luke…" She started.
"I don't want to know." He interrupted.
"But…" She pleaded.
"Look, you made your decision." Marissa shook her head but Ryan ignored it. "I think it would be best if you left."
"But…" Marissa stopped as she saw the pain in Ryan's eyes. "Okay." She whispered her voice heavy with sadness. She took one long look at him before slowly walking to the door, stepping outside, and closing it back her. She stopped for moment before taking a few steps away from the pool house. Then her shoulders slumped, her head bowed low, and the tears began to fall from her cheeks.
Ryan stared intently at the closed pool house door. He stood defiantly, his chin high in the air; his broad shoulder pushed back; his chest pushed forward. He slowly clenched his fist forcing the knuckles a ghostly white. Then in a flash of activity he slammed his hand into the nearby wall.