Author's notes: My apologies for the long update! Finals killed me. But it's summer and I should (hopefully) be updating this story, as well as my recently published, The Five People You Meet In Heaven, story on a more frequent basis. Thank you all for the feedback! It's very much appreciated!
./.\.
Chapter Four:
All Work, No Play
.\./.
The eventful evening had ended with Elliot and Cliff carrying Denny's passed out form back to his shack and Lanna demanding her and Chelsea be "best friends" by the week's end. Natalie scoffed, openly scolding the intoxicated blonde for forcing friendship upon someone and also that there was no such thing as calling dibs on actual people while Lily and Julia carried a quiet conversation behind the bickering girls. Will stumbled home, smiling crookedly at Mark, reassuring the aspiring rancher he was perfectly capable of making his way back to his yacht despite the large amount of alcohol he consumed throughout the celebration, and bid them a goodbye after kissing Chelsea's hand.
Mark and Chelsea shared a glance between one another before deciding to head back to their house in the middle of the quieted down night only to wake up about six hours later; the rising sunlight flittering through the shades of their new home.
Chelsea was the first one to be up and about, taking it upon herself to clean the insides of the house that had unforgivably collected what appeared to be about a half of inch of dust over its several seasons of vacancy. While her mop, heavy with soap and water, met the worn wooden floors, coffee was brewing in her beloved –– not to mention bulky and space-intruding –– coffee-maker she begged Mark not to auction off on the internet but keep and take with them on their voyage over to the islands. The sweet smell of the soft exotic beans lofted through the small quarters of the house and gradually coaxed the sleepy blond out of his deep sleep.
The morning had not been so forgiving to him as it was with Chelsea. Groggily, he dragged himself out of the fold-out bed and forced himself into the shower, scrubbing away the smell of beer that stuck to his flesh from the night before. After putting on a pair of old jeans and a black tee-shirt, he stepped out of the dimly lit bathroom and poured himself a cup of coffee, forcing a lopsided smile to his face when his roommate greeted him with a "good morning".
Chelsea observed him and his visible state of suffering from a hangover and felt a twisted smirk rise the corners of her lips. "I see the Beer Goddess wasn't too forgiving this morning," she hummed teasingly and giggled when he slowly turned his head toward her, clearly miserable as he sipped on his coffee.
"Denny's like a frat boy," he groaned to himself, "and you know about European countries and their alcohol. Will's got a high tolerance for ours."
"Always trying to subtly one up someone," the brunette shook her head disapprovingly.
Mark snorted, rolling his eyes. "Hey, at least give me some credit! I wasn't on their level when we left the diner, was I?"
"A drink and a half more you could've been," she replied lightly before passing him a plate of sunny-side up eggs and two pieces of toast covered with a light coat of butter. "Now eat; we've got lots of work to do today. I talked to Natalie last night about crops and she said we could probably get a crop or two of turnips going before the season ends and we have to start all over with summer crops."
Mark took a gracious bite of his toast while simultaneously shoving in forkfuls of his eggs into his garbage-disposal of a mouth. The brunette almost blanched at the sight of her friend attempting to unrealistically vacuum up his breakfast in two bites.
"Doing your research, I see," he commented through breaks of chewing his food. He paused, swallowing down the last of his hearty meal and took another sip of his coffee before taking his plate and mug and began to wash off its leftover contents in the sink. The hangover seemed to currently be kept at bay and Mark's bodily functions and will to walk and move appeared to have returned to him. As he dried off his dishes, he added, "I'm thinking we could start clearing the fields now and once we clean up a good amount of the rocks and weeds, you can go into town and buy seeds and I'll try to forage some stuff all over the islands or start working on fixing up the barn and chicken coop."
Chelsea raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed by her counterpart's more than sufficient idea of a plan. "Okay," she finally agreed, pulling her hair back in a high ponytail and placed her cleaning utensils away while Mark brushed off the crumbs from his shirt and placed his favorite hat on his head backwards. "Sounds like a plan."
A few hours had stretched by and thankfully the day hadn't brought on deathly hot weather. The two farmers, surprisingly, managed to clean up a quarter of the field quite sufficiently and decided to take a break when late afternoon hit them; their shoulders sore and their backs slightly strained.
Mark took off his ball cap, wiping the perspiration that formed into tiny beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. He brushed the dirt from his jeans, placing his hat back on and sighed, glancing at Chelsea who was already trying to clean the filth and grim that had covered her body from pulling weeds and breaking rocks.
He smirked at his struggling friend, clearly disgusted with herself and her current state of poor hygiene. "Wanna clean up before you go into town, Chels?"
She gave him a dark, fleeting glare before wiping the leftover dirt from her cheek. "I'm fine," she insisted sharply. She let down her ponytail, smoothing her hair out before she pulled her bandanna over her head. "You said Chen's store on Verdure Island is where I can buy seeds?"
The blond nodded, "yeah. So meet you back here in an hour? Shouldn't take too long for me to explore a few of the islands and for you to buy the seeds."
She gave him a quick wave, and he rolled his eyes, assuming that was a 'yes' from his retreating counterpart, and he watched as the petite brunette's figure became smaller and smaller as she walked further into town and farther away from their farm. Mark smirked to himself, placing their tools away before mapping out his brief journey through the numerous islands.
...
"Here you go, miss, ten bags of turnip seeds," Chen's voice boomed across his store as he repeated back her order. "Are you sure you can handle this amount of bags?"
Chelsea smiled kindly at the shop owner before nodding her head, placing the small sacks of seeds into her shoulder knapsack and exchanged the bags with money. "Mark and I should be fine. Thank you though!"
"Remember to water your crops every day unless it's raining!" he called after her, waving.
As the brunette gently closed the door behind her, she turned his head at the sound of her name. "Chelsea!" greeted a familiar blonde beauty, motioning for the rancher to come closer. As Chelsea approached her, the girl smiled brightly, "Buying seeds from Chen already?"
"We finished some of the field," Chelsea grinned politely, still slightly unnerved and rather intimidated by the girl standing before her. "What are you up to, Julia?"
"I just went on my lunch break," Julia beamed. "You know what? We should get something to eat if you haven't already –– my treat!"
Chelsea flushed. "O-oh Julia, that's awfully nice of you but I don't think that's necessary..."
The blonde laughed lightly, waving her hand dismissively at the rancher. "Don't be silly; you're new to the islands. It'd be my pleasure. Why don't we grab a quick bite to eat at Haila's Cafe? You'll love the food there. I eat there with Natalie and Lily sometimes. Here, follow me."
Julia tugged on Chelsea's sleeve, not allowing the brunette enough proper time to politely decline her offer and the shorter girl had suddenly found herself following the blonde bombshell toward the cafe the young townsfolk often frequented.
Almost bitterly, Chelsea wanted so desperately to claw out the hidden flaws of the southern belle walking aside of her. Not only did the girl have the face and body of a goddess, she was contagiously bubbly and so sweet the sheer sound of her delicate, sugary voice could make your insides rot. But because of the genuine quality Julia held so visibly to her demeanor, it was difficult to allow the poisonous jealousy overtake Chelsea. In fact, she instead felt herself drawn to the young woman with bright blue eyes and who wore her heart so clearly on her sleeve.
Perhaps Julia's downfall had been the naivety that radiated off her body.
The two continued to walk in silence until they reached the quaint cafe belonging to the villager, Haila. Just as the pair of girls walked in Chelsea felt herself involuntarily tense at the sight of the tall, clad in black, boy she had less than friendly relations with –– if she could even consider herself having any sort of relations with him to begin with.
"Hello Vaughn," greeted the blonde sweetly while the brunette farmer merely gave him a weak wave.
"What're you doing here?" Vaughn muttered as he slightly tipped his hat downward. Chelsea felt her mouth run dry of words to reply with; already assuming the question was directed more toward the southern belle beside her than herself anyway.
"I'm on my lunch break," replied Julia, unaffected by the chilly stare she was under.
There was a momentary pause and then, "you eat lunch at the shop."
The blonde rolled her eyes, visibly annoyed by her counterpart's antics and third degree questioning. "Oh, stop being such a smart-alec and mind your own business, Vaughn!" she snapped, her relatively soothing voice rising a few notches to an outright shrill.
"Thirty minutes, Julia," he reminded her pointing to his watch. He, like Julia with his aloof and patronizing exterior, dealt with her snarky outburst thoroughly unfazed. He tipped his hat once more before exiting the cafe without another snide remark to offer.
Julia shook her head before leading Chelsea to a spot she often frequented in the restaurant with Natalie, buying herself a sandwich while the rancher quickly mumbled an order of tomato salad. Once the girls were well in halfway through their meals, admittedly surprised by their eagerness to eat and their sudden overwhelming feeling of hunger, did the blonde speak again.
"Sorry about Vaughn, honey," she smiled weakly. "He's just like that." She paused before giggling. "Now that I think about it, he's always been like that."
"It's fine," Chelsea dismissed. She munched thoughtfully on her salad, asking after swallowing down her food, "you've known him for a long time?"
"I've known Vaughn my entire life," sighed Julia. "He used to live here. His mom was friends with Mama for a while until she just upped and left one day. She came back, eventually, but then left again and took him with her. We had to be about ten by then. I hadn't seen him for a few years; I think Natalie and Elliot even began to forget he ever existed, but then when he was eighteen he just suddenly showed up unannounced to deliver animals to me and Mama. He's been our town's livestock dealer ever since."
Chelsea forced herself to appear mildly interested when she was, in all reality, completely fascinated and intrigued by the uncovering history of the younger townsfolk of these islands. She silently mulled over her thoughts before carefully prodding, "so you've all known each other since kids?"
"Just Elliot, Natalie, Vaughn and myself," the blonde answered. "Denny was always in and out of our lives until he decided to finally stay here a few years ago. Sabrina and her father moved here when I was about sixteen and she was fifteen; Will came a year later once he turned eighteen. Lily and Pierre moved here the next year after Will. Then Lanna showed up to the islands for her 'break'." She paused momentarily to blow a wisp of her hair that fell into her vision before adding, "Mama's delighted there's more people on the islands around my age. I suppose she doesn't think that Natalie and I are all that social."
The image of the red-haired tomboy with a rather brash attitude fleetingly crossed through the forefront of Chelsea's mind. She felt a lopsided grin adorn her face at the thought of the two girls, complete opposite in personalities, as small children; Natalie doing all the talking and probably bossing poor, subservient Julia around.
"At least we have more peopled involved in our festivals. Come to think of it, that might be why Vaughn's been so snappy lately. I think he's trying to compete in the Horse Festival this year."
"Festivals?" Chelsea blinked and Julia nodded.
"Yes, festivals." the blonde giggled after taking a small bite of her sandwich. "We actually have quite a few every season. You don't have to participate in all of them, but you're more than welcomed to come and speculate. Unfortunately, since you and Mark came to the islands now in the middle of spring, you missed a few festivals. Besides the Horse Festival, we still have the Sheep Festival, which is before the Horse Festival, and the Spring Crop Festival at the very end of the season."
She tapped her chin thoughtfully with her index finger before snapping her fingers as an idea popped into her head and dug into her rose-colored purse, pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper and a pen with lilac ink. Without a word, she ducked her head slightly with small wavy blonde locks of hair that had come loose from her high ponytail curtaining her face, and began feverishly jotting down dates and words Chelsea couldn't quite decipher from the angle where she was positioned and seated. Instead, the farmer stiffly took a sip of her drink before awkwardly peering down at her hands folded over her lap.
Chelsea peered upward when Julia purposely dropped the pen from her hand and raked her ocean blue eyes over what she had written before presenting the sheet of paper to her new friend. As the farmer took the paper from her hands, she beamed brightly, explaining, "it's a list of all the festivals, their dates and themes for the entire year! I thought it'd be easier than asking around about them every week or month."
The brunette smiled brightly at the southern belle before she neatly folded the sheet and placed it securely in the left front pocket of her shorts. "Mark and I will definitely put this to good use. Thank you so much, Julia."
"Not a problem," Julia giggled again; her soft version of a delicate laugh sounded like wind chimes barely brushing against a quiet breeze. Her eyes flicked toward the cafe's hanging clock near the counter, and she sighed. "My lunch break's almost up. It was nice to see you, Chelsea. Now don't be a stranger and make sure you ask me, Mama or even Vaughn if you and Mark need help with anything!"
Chelsea waved as the girl left her, now wondering where her aforementioned roommate's current whereabouts exactly were.
...
Meanwhile, Mark had either taken a brief boat ride or wandered around from island to island, gathering anything that looked remotely edible and purchasable; placing each herb or fruit gingerly in his backpack. Gradually, he found himself back on the familiar Sprout Island, observing the waves being pulled toward and pushed back by the pristine shore. His vision eventually fell upon Denny and the fisherman eagerly waved the rancher over to his spot on the pier; his fishing pole in hand and a large bucket filled with sea water and a few fish he had caught within the hour placed aside of him.
"Hey man!" the curly-haired boy greeted, beaming. Mark smiled in response, cocking an eyebrow as a tiny black figure perched itself rather diligently on Denny's shoulder. It stared back at the rancher, unwavering. Denny brought a hand to his preoccupied shoulder, giving the little bird a quick pat on its head. "This is Popper. The little guy must have been flying around when you and Chelsea saw me yesterday. Anyway, what brings you over to Sprout Island?"
"On a break from farm work," answered Mark. "Chelsea went off to buy seeds and grab something to eat and I'm just trying to collect things to sell in the meantime." He eyed Denny's fishing pole before focusing his attention back onto his new friend. "Besides selling crops and animal produce, how else could you make money around here?"
"Fishing?" Denny shrugged, flicking his unresponsive fishing pole. "Or you could mine at Volcanic Island; that's the reason Sabrina and her dad moved here for. Lily too."
The faint image of the exotic girl lingered briefly in the forefront of Mark's brain until he blinked it away, flushing slightly at the thought of yet another pretty girl who inhabited the islands. "Lily? Really? She doesn't look much like a miner."
"Treasure hunter," corrected the fisherman, reeling in his bait as he began to retire for the day. "I know she appears dainty as a flower but don't let her looks fool you; Lily's a smart girl and she's probably got more guts than all of the guys put here together. She knows what she's doing. If anything, she'd be the one to ask to help you with your new, er, endeavors per say. You're not giving up on farming already, are you?"
The blond laughed, shaking his head. "No, of course not. But growing crops is pretty tedious and I figured since working with Chelsea will cut down our workload, I'd try to do something else in the meantime."
"Good logic," Denny smirked, tapping off the lingering water from his fishing pole on the edge of the pier before he picked up his bucket, looking at Mark again. "You wanna come hang for a bit? I was about to crack open some beers; Lanna said she might come over and Will should be over in a little while."
Mark felt himself swallow at the mention of beer, noticing then and there how dry his throat had been. He resisted the urge to lick his chapped lips before shaking his head with an apologetic frown. "I would but I've gotta eat and meet up with Chelsea soon anyway."
"I'll grill you some fish," offered the fisherman. "You can invite Chelsea too, if you want. When're you supposed to meet her?"
"Well, not for another half an hour," the blond muttered. He shook his head again, sighing before looking back at Denny. "I'd love to, but I gotta pass. Sorry man."
"No problem," shrugged Denny, giving him an earnest smile. "Another time! Lanna and I will probably have a cookout after the Sheep or Horse Festival. I'll let you know!"
Marc waved after the retreating fisherman and sighed to himself once again, tugging the straps of his backpack closer to him as he made his journey back to his farm.
Last Minute Author's Notes: Definitely more of a filler chapter, but I promise you the next coming chapters will be a bit more riveting! And yes! This is a story where Vaughn and Julia aren't cousins but childhood friends! Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe their family relationship was ever confirmed so I took it upon myself to make them not related. Anyway, feedback would be great! Thank you!