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The cold wind crept under my T-shirt, and I pulled my black jacket tighter around my waist, touched my shoulder, and watched Mica walk away before gazing out at the purple-red shimmering horizon.
And for a moment, I was on the verge of allowing my weakness and giving in to the despair in my chest. Just for a moment. Then I forced myself to leave the beach, a queasy feeling in my stomach, but I didn't know exactly where it came from.
Chapter 46
Bayla
Seeking Aid
Gustavo Santaolalla, Juan Luqui
The glowing ball sank further and further into the sea, and with every second I stared out into the endless ocean surrounding this strange island, the tugging in my chest intensified, and with it the itching in my wrists.
For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to feel the sensation, letting all the questions I had no answers to rise to the surface, while goosebumps spread across the back of my neck.
Where did this affinity for the sea come from? Why did my feet want me to step deeper into the cold salt water than the leather boots, already kissing the water with every tidal wave, could endure? Why did I long for the restless thunderstorms that kept returning to this town as if this were their home? Why did I start crying for no reason as soon as autumn began, and feel this inner emptiness as soon as it came to an end? Why did my hunger for blueberries grow when I felt longing?
When I realized that all these pointless questions led nowhere – as they had done all those years in my youth – I decided to settle for my most logical conclusion.
I was lost. I would always be lost. No matter how many years passed.
More questions wanted to rise to the surface, ready to swallow me whole, but I continued to focus on the sun's last attempt to keep its dying tangerine above the horizon, concentrating on the familiar pulling between my breasts.
I had just tried to convince a tense Nash that my best friend wouldn't cause any trouble, and when he, distracted by Miles, had returned to the other guys from the pack with whom he had organized this beach party at the insistence of the football team, the noise level had become too much for me and I had wandered off to the expansive Noya Beach in the island bay.
Something in me preferred watching the lively crowd from a distance, even though in moments like these, a deep longing would well up in my chest and I was confronted with myself.
Besides, it had helped me to suppress the fact that my best friend was wandering somewhere through these woods, looking for this house she wanted to break into, for God's sake.
I had wanted to text her, but my phone was still in Miles' car.
“You're not a Senseque.”
Unbroken
Gustavo Santaolalla
I flinched and turned my head toward the young man, who was barely taller than me and had both hands in the pockets of his denim jacket, which was covered with countless enamel pins and colorful iron-on patches. He stepped up beside me, keeping the same distance from the flood.
The sea also fought its way up to his Converse shoes, which were scribbled on with black marker and adorned with more colorful enamel pins featuring bizarre IT motifs. A white cursor, a memory card with the words safe yourself, the rainbow-colored word GAYMER, Google's internet dinosaur, two colorful game controllers, and more...
He wore black ripped jeans on his slim legs, a flannel shirt under his jacket over a green Vanderwood Athletics hoodie, which was also decorated with countless enamel pins.
His dark brown, tousled hair was subject to the force of the wind, and the soft blue of his eyes contrasted pleasantly with the indigenous features of the rest of his appearance.
Cody Kaheel was the smallest of Nash's guys, laughed the most, and whenever I saw him, he either had a sweet snack in his hand or was being roughly, albeit playfully, pushed around by the other guys.
He had never spoken to me before, let alone warned me about my own friends.
Slowly but surely, his words sank in.
He knew. Just like Alarik and Emely...
“Let me guess. My scent?”
I forced myself to look away, back to the horizon, and my breath caught when I caught sight of the yellow-orange-red twilight with the pale dark purple clouds that turned the roaring sea into a purple-blue mirror surface, while seagulls and ravens circled the rocks and rocky islets with the few coniferous trees, their croaking calls drowned out by the sound of the breaking waves.
It was as if the sky above Blairville was on fire.
