Scattered Colors (3 page)

The remainder of the drive up the coast was silent. I’d just begun to doze when my father turned the car onto a gravel driveway lined with the thickest, tallest trees I’d ever seen. Even if the sun hadn’t already started its descent from the sky, the light wouldn’t have been able to break through the denseness of the leaves. I took in the picturesque landscape all around as we drove closer and closer to our new home. What I saw once everything came into view made my jaw drop slightly and my eyes widen in awe.

It wasn’t the massive two-story craftsman—although it was quite gorgeous—which left me speechless. It was the view of what was beyond the house that had me mesmerized.

“The furniture is already set up,” Dad said as he turned the key, shutting off the car’s engine. “The movers unloaded everything yesterday. All that’s left is to unpack are the boxes.”

Ignoring his words, I opened the car door to climb out. “I’m going to take a look around. Be back in a bit.”

I didn’t wait for his response before taking off around the side of the house. The view was absolutely breathtaking. The house sat on a bluff overlooking the Pacific. There were no fences surrounding the property. Our backyard was massive, at least fifty yards before it butted right up to the edge of the cliff, nothing to be seen but miles and miles of ocean. To say the view was stunning would have been a massive understatement. I could have stared at that view for hours and never grown tired of it.

Taking another step toward the edge of the cliff, I glanced down at the beach. One look was all it took and I knew right then and there I was in love with what I saw below me. The ground was covered in sand and pebbles. Downed trees that looked like they’d been there forever lay on their sides. Stepping back from the edge, I scanned the area, looking for a way down. It wasn’t that far of a drop, but there was no way I was climbing down a rocky cliff face all alone. Luckily, off to my right was a path worn into the grass. I followed it until I made it to the quiet beach. Once I was at the shoreline, I turned in a full circle, soaking up everything that surrounded me. With water in front of me, a rocky wall that led up to my new home behind, while magnificent trees and cliffs jutted out on both sides. It was amazing. My mom would have loved it.

As soon as that thought crossed my mind, it felt like a balloon had popped, deflating all the wonder and joy I’d momentarily felt as I took in my surroundings, thrusting me back into a harsh reality where my mom was gone and I was on my own. Walking over to one of the fallen trees, I ran my fingers across the trunk where years of rain and tides had left the surface smooth. I took a seat on the weathered wood and watched the waves roll in as tears streamed down my face.

I couldn’t help but wonder when that big, gaping hole she’d left behind when she died would finally begin to heal and close up. Some days it felt like the pain was almost too much to bear.

“I miss you,” I whispered into the breeze as it blew past me.

“Are you a crazy person?” I spun around with a gasp, unaware there was anyone on the beach besides me. My breath instantly stalled as my eyes roamed helplessly over the boy standing before me. Dark brown hair flopped over his forehead messily, nearly masking equally dark eyes. The sun glinted off the piercing in his bottom lip, drawing my attention to his mouth. As I scanned further down, I saw he was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of worn-out jeans with a chain hanging from his belt loop to his back pocket. The faded Converses on his feet also appeared to have been worn frequently, ripped and scuffed in places like only a favorite pair of shoes could be. Nothing about his clothing was all that impressive, but the way they hugged his body showed off lean yet well-defined muscles.

He was, by far, one of the most attractive boys I’d ever seen. It wasn’t just his body or the way he dressed that made him so good-looking, though. There was something in the way he was carrying himself. He had an almost-cocky arrogance in his body language. Everything from the slow, casual swagger he had as he walked toward me to the smirk that tilted the corner of his full lips up screamed confident. It was as if he was well aware of who he was and completely comfortable in that knowledge. A deep chuckle pulled my attention back up to his face where his smirk slowly spread into a full-on smile. I’d just been busted checking him out.

“Um…what?”

His head tipped to the side as his eyes narrowed. He was studying me closely, like something about me sitting there alone on a beach fascinated him. His attention was both thrilling and disconcerting all at the same time. His eyes were so focused, as though he was seeing things a stranger shouldn’t see, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

“I asked if you were a crazy person,” he repeated. The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver through my body.

“No!” I let out an offended huff, hugging my arms around my stomach like they were somehow going to protect me from the strange boy who had come out of nowhere. “Are you?” I asked, my tone full of hostility.

The boy stepped even closer and I noticed he looked to be right around my age. “I’m not the one sitting on a log talking to myself.” His eyes glinted with humor, but I wasn’t finding anything about our small exchange to be funny.

My lip curled in derision. “I wasn’t talking to myself,” I said sharply.

He leaned down to pick up one of the pebbles off the beach and began tossing it from hand to hand. “Looked that way to me. What’s your name? I’ve never seen you around here before.”

“We just moved into the house on the bluff,” I answered, pointing up at the cliff behind me. “I’m Freya Linden and you are?”

“Parker Owens.” He thrust his hand out for me to shake. “Freya, huh? That’s a weird name. Guess it fits you, weird name for the weird girl who talks to herself on an empty beach.”

I felt my cheeks heat at his insult. I’d never been the type of girl who was easily offended. My mom had taught me from an early age to ignore people’s hatefulness. She always said mean people were just scared, pathetic human beings who needed to build themselves up by knocking other people down. I was usually able to brush insults off, but having Parker call me weird pricked at something inside of me. I couldn’t explain it, especially since I didn’t know the guy from Adam, but for some reason, it bothered me.

I stood from my spot on the log and started toward the path that led up the cliff. “You’re an asshole,” I ground out as I walked away. What was wrong with me? First I got my feelings hurt, and then the best I could come up with was to call him an asshole? I was
awesome
when it came to hurling insults at someone who was acting like a jackass. Maybe it was sleep deprivation. Maybe all those hours in a car had thrown me off, but no matter the excuse, in Parker’s presence, I was most definitely off my game.

“Whoa, whoa. Wait a second.” I heard the rocks fly up from the ground as he ran after me. “I was only teasing you,” he said, grabbing hold of my elbow and turning me to face him. “It was a joke. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

I frowned as I jerked my arm from his hold. “What’s funny about being a jerk to someone you’ve just met?”

He ran his hands through his unruly hair and released a breath. “Look, I’m sorry. Really. You just looked a little…I don’t know, lost, I guess. I didn’t mean to be a dick. I was just trying to lighten the mood for you.”

I didn’t like how he seemed to be able to read me so well, but more than that, I didn’t like the way he made it feel like I had a million butterflies flapping around in my belly. I’d met the guy all of five minutes ago, for crying out loud. I needed to get away from Parker and his creepy insightfulness.

I opened my mouth to toss a smart remark back at him just as my father called my name from up above us.

“Gotta go,” I said, turning around and continuing up the path.

“It’s been a pleasure, Freya Linden.”

“Can’t say the same, Parker Owens,” I called over my shoulder.

“Feisty. I’m looking forward to seeing you around, new girl.”

I didn’t bother responding that I hoped to never have to see him again because a part of me—a very tiny part I refused to acknowledge—was kind of excited at the prospect of running into Parker Owens again. Even if I
had
found him the slightest bit detestable.

It was official. I’d been in Sommerspoint for all of an hour and I was already losing my mind.

Freya Linden.

The name was just as interesting as the girl herself.

As I made my way home, taking the route along the beach to clear my head, the last thing I expected was to run into a beautiful girl sitting on a log crying as she stared out at the ocean. My walk on the beach was something I did regularly to escape the turbulence of my life. I craved the solitude I usually had on the long, lonely expanse of sand and pebbles. I’d left Cassidy’s house an hour earlier and was in desperate need of the salty sea air to clear out the chaos in my mind. I didn’t understand why I kept going back. The girl drove me insane on a good day, but on days like this one, she did nothing but add to the stark blackness of my life.

I’d made the right decision to end my relationship with Cassidy a while back, but when I was having a bad day, it was just too easy to fall back into a routine—or into Cassidy’s bed, to be exact—in an attempt to get a reprieve from the bad days. Unfortunately, that reprieve had come to an end. I’d used my ex as a fallback plan for too long and she was starting to push. Pushing for us to get back together, pushing for us to be something we just weren’t, pushing me to tell her I loved her when, in all honestly, I wasn’t even sure I
liked
her.

As I made my way back home, that emptiness I’d started feeling inside after every encounter with Cassidy had started to grow. I didn’t know how much longer I could continue going on the way I was before the darkness swallowed me whole. If I were being honest with myself, my relationship with Cassidy—if that was what I could even call it—wasn’t the only thing I was beginning to question. For the past few years, I’d surrounded myself with people who weren’t all that great. Where I could typically find a redeeming quality in most people, it was gradually becoming harder and harder to excuse the selfish behavior of my so-called friends. At first, the inane drama of my tight-knit circle of friends had been a welcome escape from my own self-loathing. However, as time passed, I found the childish behavior and pettiness to be doing nothing but adding to the weight I carried around on my chest, threatening to pull me under until I drowned in it all.

The sight of the girl on the beach seemed to lift that depressing fog, if only for a little while. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw a pair of blue eyes so startlingly beautiful. But it wasn’t just the color that had pulled me in. It was the sadness she held behind them. In just one brief moment on that quiet beach, I saw something in her so similar to what I saw every time I looked in the mirror. Like recognized like, and I recognized the same pain in Freya that I carried around every single day.

It made me want to know her better. It made me want to discover what clouded those deep azure eyes. There wasn’t much I had to look forward to in my life, but maybe…just maybe Freya Linden was going to change all of that.