Excerpt: Moving Along

It was darker now, the sun only beginning to disappear into the horizon, merging with the water to form a work of art that no one could ever portray. She stood next to the water, the waves lapping at her toes, the sand sparkling with the glow of sunlight.

The ocean was clearer now, the tide slow and peaceful, and she could see a school of fish, grouped together, swimming side by side in circles around the shore. She picked up a white shell, its edges perfect, holding it under the water so that the sand would be washed from it.

When she pulled it back up, it looked perfect; the symmetrical patterns flowed like they were drawn in with a perfect hand, and the colorless tint of white that it contained was more beautiful than any pearls she’d ever seen. She followed the top edges of the shell, marveling at how perfect it truly seemed, until she noticed a slight imperfection—a chip, barely more than a millimeter, at the top right corner.

She knew it couldn’t be perfect.

As she drew her hand back to throw it towards the school of fish, however, she felt a sudden hand on her wrist, and with a gasp, she turned. It was only Matt, and he was staring closely at the shell.

“Don’t throw this one,” he said, “it’s perfect.”

“No,” she argued, “It isn’t perfect. Look.”

She showed him the tiny chip, tracing it with her finger, before he reached for the shell and put it in his pocket. She scowled.

“It’s got one fault,” he said, “One imperfection. It isn’t perfect—that’s what makes it perfect anyways.”

She didn’t say anything, she only crossed her arms over her chest and faced the water again. The school was still gathered together, swimming in the same circles, and she looked around for another shell. This time, she found one that had jagged marks and bumps all over, and she was happy that Matt didn’t argue as she tossed it towards the assemblage of fish.

She watched as they scattered, breaking out of the uniform group that they’d grown accustomed to, splitting so far apart that they were virtually invisible in the water. However, one by one, they quickly met again, coming back together to form a seemingly bigger body. She smiled.

“You enjoyed that,” Matt noted, no form of question in his voice.

“Yes,” she said, looking up at him, the wind blowing her curls. “They were scared, and they broke apart and disappeared to the point where we couldn’t see them.

“But they came back together,” she said, “And they didn’t let a big disturbance get in the way of being together.”

Matt was silent as he gazed back at her, and she looked away from him and back at the school. They were making progress now, shifting from where they had been settled and leaving to find a new place to be. She sighed, the sun half way into the water now.

“I never got a chance to thank you for last night,” Jamie said suddenly, turning to Matt again. He shrugged, a look of reverie crossing his features.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“No, it means a lot that someone I’ve never met would drop everything and come rescue me,” she said with a smile. “And I wasn’t very nice to you today.”

He shrugged again.

“It’s just that feeling, you know?” she started again, choosing her words carefully so as not to get worked up. “Feeling like you have to defend someone because of what they’ve done for you, despite what they haven’t or where they’ve gone wrong. Like you owe it to them.”

“What exactly has Jack done for you?” Matt said, his voice with a slight edge. Jamie tried to ignore it.

“He’s been there for me,” she said, “And he’s respected me in ways that other guys wouldn’t, and he falters sometimes but he’s only human.”

“You deserve total respect,” he said, “without faltering.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked suddenly, her voice having an edge too. “Why would you just say that, without knowing what happened to me at all?”

“What did happen to you?” he asked suddenly, and she fell silent, no longer wishing to respond.

He let her be—she could sense that he was done arguing, his point proven. She felt angry that he was just making assumptions, but she knew she couldn’t be too angry only because he was right. Something had indeed happened to her, and Jack should probably respect it unfailingly.

She sighed, still staring out at the sea. The sun was almost below the horizon now, mere seconds remaining. She began counting down from thirty in her head, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…

“Are you counting?” Matt’s voice interrupted her concentration. His face held a comical expression.

Twenty-six, twenty-five…

“Was I counting out loud?” she asked, surprised. He laughed in response, and she pushed him gently.

Twenty-two, twenty-one…

“You’re still doing it,” he said, “And why are you doing it?”

“I’m racing,” she said, trying to keep her focus. “I’m seeing if I—if I can predict the right amount of time—”

“You seem distracted,” he noted, grinning.

Fifteen, fourteen…

“I—I am!” she yelled, covering her ears, still watching the sun.

“Can I help in any way?” he yelled in return. She closed her eyes now.

“You could shut up!” she yelled, determined to keep counting.

Five, four, three, two…

“Okay,” he said, resigned.

One.

The sun disappeared below the horizon as soon as she whispered the number to herself. Once it was gone, she turned to Matt and jumped, tackling him into the sand, laughing the whole fall.