Chapter Eight: My Recycled Soul by Lynette Ferreira
I am fully aware that Jared does not speak at all. He only smiles now and again at something one of us say and when he does, he glances in my direction. This makes my stomach muscles clench in onto themselves and a flush of heat creep up my cheeks. I cannot believe how each thread of my body is aware of him.
Too soon, we stop at a parking area with high square shrubs
surrounding it.
Everybody gets out of the cars and start to stroll toward an
almost hidden pathway. I walk away from the Jeep first. I did not want it to
look as if I am waiting for Jared.
When I step onto the beach out from between the bushes, the
first thing that strikes me is the view. It is beautiful and peaceful. The
water is translucent blue, with the waves calmly rolling in onto the
white-pebbled sand curving around the beach in a semi-circle. Hugging the beach
are huge expansive cliffs.
I stop walking and look up at the cliffs, feeling small and
insignificant. From the corner of my eye, I notice Connell and Jared walk out
from the pathway together. It looks as if they are discussing something
important, and Jared looks stubborn in his decision.
Then, Jared is looking at me and despite how silly it sounds
I am stuck in the gaze of his eyes. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a
car, I feel a strange sensation of excited panic, but I cannot move.
I smile at him shyly, and then feeling mortified I start to
turn around toward Jane further down the beach.
Jared starts running in my direction.
I flinch and turn my back to him when it looks as if he is
going to run into me, but he folds his arms around my waist and lifts me off
the ground. With my feet dangling in the air, he twirls me around. His voice
from behind me suggests amused, “I think we should give you a proper Irish
welcome and dunk you in the sea.”
Embarrassed, I laugh. “Let me go,” I insist while I try to
pry his hands from my waist.
He whispers, “Never,” close to my ear and places my feet
back onto the ground gently.
I frown briefly as I step away from him and, without
thinking, I look around to see if Aaron saw Jared whispering in my ear and
acting as if he likes me, but Aaron is having a conversation with John and has
his back turned to us.
“Ah.” Jared follows my gaze. “Have I already lost out?”
Mortified I look down at my feet and feel a warm glow
pushing up my neck, into my cheeks. What does he mean–lost out? I look up into
his eyes and then quickly avert my eyes to look over his shoulder at the
constantly rising and falling waves. Something about his eyes does something to
my stomach. “No,” I whisper adamantly. My voice reaches its normal tone as I
explain, “Aaron and I are great friends, but I heard he likes me, and I don’t
want to hurt his feelings.”
Jared lifts his hands up in the air, his palms facing me as
he steps further away from me. Smiling apologetically, he says, “Sorry.”
I feel dreadful because I do like Jared very much—too much,
too soon—and now he might get the wrong impression. Frustrated I turn and walk
away from him, not wanting him to see how I feel, not wanting to start gushing
nonsensical, perhaps inadvertently admit I am pathetic enough to already feel
as if I love him, tell him how weird it is that I feel as if I have always
loved him. How naïve does he think I am, anyway, saying he will never let me
go. Still my heart leaps at the prospect.
I walk toward Jane, Sarah and Siobhan sitting silently on
the sand in a half circle facing the sea. I can feel tension in the air when I
sit down next to Jane.
As I sink down next to Jane, she turns to look at me,
smiling kindly. I assume the feeling of unease is coming from Sarah, who turns
to me briefly and openly glares at me. Her eyes are throwing daggers at me, so
I presume she must be into Jared.
The guys come to sit with us, and I do not know if Jared is
just determined or stubborn, or not so much into Sarah, or just being spiteful,
but he sits down next to me and I can now feel open hate burning behind Sarah’s
eyes, as she stabs me with her glare.
Aaron sits at the far end of the half-circle next to John
and looks toward me discontentedly. I do feel a little insulted because I have
made it plain, in all my actions, I was not interested in being more than just
his friend. I hate hurting his feelings now, but I feel an incomprehensible
attraction toward his brother.
I decide to take a quick, discreet, peripheral glance at
Jared, and I see him watching me inconspicuously. He is sitting with his
forearms folded on top of his pulled-up knees, and his chin is resting on his
arms as he faces the ocean.
Connell and John decide to build a bonfire and soon the
beach has a warm glow to it, the sun is already starting to set over the ocean.
John says something about the sunset and then everyone joins in, discussing the
way the different colours play across the water.
Jared moves his arm and, surely unintentionally, he brushes
against my arm softly. My body betrays me by sprouting goose bumps.
“Cold, Elizabeth?” He chuckles softly.
“No.” I look at him sideways.
“You must be after coming from sunny South Africa only a few
months ago.” He tries to imitate my accent. “This climate takes time getting
used to.”
I turn to look at him amused. “Actually, I like the cold.”
