Chapter Three: Hi, my name is Rosalyn
The next morning, Rosalyn found herself laying across the foot of the guest bed, sunshine finding its way through the blinds and into her eyes. Ugh, what time is it? Her eyes widened as they found the clock above the doorway. "Noon already?" she grumbled as she stood up and contemplated the events of the previous night.
Her patient was still unconscious, but he looked far better than he did last night. She placed her hand on his forehead, checking his temperature and was pleased to find that his fever had subsided. Her eyes lingered over the right side of his face. In the light of day, the skin looked far pinker than it did in the moonlight and his veins were also more visible. Yet the skin is so soft here, she thought as she caressed his cheek with the back of her hand.
"Pardon me, but you don't look like you'll be awake for a while," she mumbled to herself. "Time for a bit of surfing before all the good waves are gone, and the tourists grab all the good spots on the beach!" Grabbing and peeling a banana before heading into her own room, Rosalyn picked out her gold bikini, black board shorts and a white rashguard from her closet and changed into them. It was far too hot to wear a wetsuit.
When she needed to clear her thoughts at night, Rosalyn roamed the streets in her convertible, but in the daytime, if she felt troubled, all her worries melted away as soon as she hit the waves. When she moved here four years ago, the first thing she did was sign up for surfing lessons, since it was always a dream of hers and one of the reasons why she decided to go to a university in San Diego—it was far away enough from home that she could gain independence yet still be in California.
Getting to the beach was easy enough—just a short pathway from the back of her condo. Within ten minutes she was paddling out to sea, pleased to find that there were only five or six other surfers. The less people to get in my way, she thought, smiling.
Positioning herself to face the shore, she looked behind her and saw a series of waves coming toward her. She felt that similar rush of adrenaline as she paddled quickly toward the shore. As she felt the wave lift up her surfboard, she jumped up on her feet, riding it a mere five seconds before the wave crashed. She continued these actions until she could feel the soreness in her arms.
Sitting up on her surfboard, she cast her eyes toward her condo. I better get back before he wakes up. Please, please, please don't let him be some psycho killer!
On the beach, Rosalyn tore off her rashguard and let the sun warm her wet skin. Not bothering to towel off, she took that all too familiar path home and let herself air dry on the walk back, carrying the surfboard under one arm and holding the rashguard in the other.
"Rosalyn! Hey!" someone called from behind her.
Turning suddenly, her surfboard nearly collided with the man whose voice had just called her name. She stopped in the nick of time, staring into the broad chest of the poster boy for Californian surfers. Looking up, she noticed his face was slightly flushed from running after her, but his beautiful blonde locks fell perfectly down the side of his face, framing his incredibly chiseled features.
"Hi, Brett!" she forced a smile. They had gone out on a few dates during the previous school year, but she had found herself bored with him after realizing he would rather surf and party with this fraternity brothers than hold even an inkling of an intelligent conversation with her. Two months ago she stopped answering his calls.
"Enjoying your summer?" he asked, cocking his head to one side and smiling the usual brilliant smile that usually made girls swoon.
No way, buddy, she thought. Your games don't work on me anymore!
"Yeah, I am. I'm just hanging out here until Fall quarter starts. Actually, I'm supposed to meet a friend for lunch, so I should go." She turned to leave but he grabbed her shoulder gently.
"I'm in town for the summer, too. We should get together sometime!"
And talk about your hair?
"Uh huh," she managed to answer through clenched teeth. This time, she turned back quickly enough that he had to jump back to avoid her surfboard. Damn, I missed him!
"Well, I'll give you a call then!" he shouted after her.
Go ahead and try. I don't have to answer!
Back in the guestroom, Erik was slightly aware that he was no longer on the ship. He opened his eyes and let them adjust to the sudden exposure to light. Though he tried to lift himself from the bed, he found that his body refused to move. A blinding pain shot through his shoulders as he tried to lift his torso, and he just collapsed back onto the bed.
Where am I? What happened? He panicked. Had he been caught by the French authorities? Bits and pieces of the previous night began to come back to him.
I remember there was mist, swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake… no, it had been the ocean…
Just then a figure flashed quickly to his right and moved just out of the periphery of his vision. A shadow. He closed his eyes, trying to find his voice.
Rosalyn slipped through the sliding door after gently leaning her surfboard along the patio and setting her rashguard on the balcony to dry. Wiping the sand off her feet on the doormat, she walked over to the guestroom.
When Erik opened his eyes, he found a girl standing in the doorway… a half-naked girl! He swallowed his heart to get it back to its rightful place.
"You're awake! Hi, my name is Rosalyn…"
A/N: How do you like the story so far? Please review! Also, do you think that the ALW musical and movie should exist in this alternate universe? I haven't decided yet, but I figure I'd take a poll. Please leave me a comment! Thanks! And thanks for reading this far. I'm still setting the scene before the story really takes off!
Oh another thing. The ship Erik was on was NOT bound for California. Through some weird rip in time (hehe in this alternate universe, of course!) Erik not only found himself transported to 2005, but to California. Don't you hate it when fate messes with you like that?