She’s so freaking beautiful.
The way she moves, how she seems to smile to herself while exploring the beach. Everything she does fascinates me.
I sit on a weathered driftwood log, not too far away from her, hidden in the shade of an ancient pine tree that casts a mosaic of dappled sunlight on the cobblestones. My eyes are fixed onher, the girl who’s become the light in my lonely life.
Or is it death?
Existence?
She stands there, surrounded by the beauty of the beach, and it’s like the universe itself conspired to frame her in perfection.
God, I sound worse than one of Nash’s cheesy poems.
Sloan wears faded jeans, their cuffs brushing against the wet sand, and a mint-green hoodie that seems to match the color of the seafoam. A maroon beanie perches atop her head, contrasting with her flowing, sun-kissed blonde hair. Each strand shimmers like gold under the warm afternoon sun.
She’s watching a group of seals lounging on some big rocks peeking out of the water a few feet from the beach, and her infectious giggles ripple through the air as one of themcomically rolls into the water. Her joy is contagious, and I forget everything else in the world for a moment.
Just not the fact that she’s alive and I’m not.
Sloan brings an old analog camera that hangs around her neck on a strap to her eye, capturing the playful seals in all their whimsy. I wished I had my camera now too, but I wouldn’t waste my time photographing the seals when she’s there.
I don’t know her, not really, but there’s an undeniable magnetism that pulls me toward her.
Literally.
She told me herself that ghosts don’t haunt people they don’t have a connection to, which makes some sense since I only ever pop in next to one of my brothers.
But what exactly does the fact that I’m here right now say about her?
“Stop staring,” Sloan yells over her shoulder, not even looking my way.
I have no idea how she even noticed I was here, but we are the only two people on the beach. “Staring? Who is staring? I’m not staring,” I mutter while I get up and walk over to her, standing beside her and looking at the ocean. Tension grows between us, so I try to lighten the mood. “Are you Google? Because you’re everything I was searching for.”
She huffs a dry laugh. “I would punch you right now if I could. Be glad I can’t.”
“I can go and get you the spatula if it helps?” I look at her profile, watching how the side of her lip turns up slightly before she turns to look at me, and those beautiful eyes fix on mine.
“I put myself in a horrible situation just to get this for you,” she states, tone cold, before she pulls my necklace out of the back pocket of her jeans. “Just for you to bail on me, literally discharging me to your brother the minute you could?” Now, there is an edge of hurt in her voice, and my stomach drops.
That’s what made her upset?
“That’s not how this was,” I try to reassure her, turning to face her fully.
I want to reach out, to stroke her arm or pull her in a hug, but that wouldn’t work anyway, so I don’t.
“Then what was it? I went through hell for this,” she hisses out, letting the necklace dangle before my eyes.
“I know, and I’m more than sorry for that. You can be mad at me for this. It would be more than deserved. But I didn’t just bail on you and drop you onto my brother.”
She laughs bitterly. “Sure felt like it.”
“Slo,” I breathe out, leaning in closer so our foreheads would nearly touch if they could, my gaze flicking between her eyes. Her mouth opens on a slight gasp, and my whole body tingles.
Just another weird fucking feeling to have for a girl I’ve known for all of three days.
“I can’t control this. Do you think I would ever leave if I could?” I laugh and stand straight. “I would haunt your fine ass nonstop.” She shoots me a glare, just about to open her mouth when I continue, “And don’t come at me with, ‘That’s not how this works’ if you can’t tell me how I can change it because damn, would I like to.”
She tilts her head, the cute line on her nose flattening again. “So you say you can’t decide where you are?”
