Call Of The Sea
One Of A Kind
I've never been much good at swimming. Whenever I submerge myself in the local pool I feel fine -- it's only when I have to kick my legs like crazy and make those stupid circular movements with my arms that I start to feel awkward. I've always loved the sensation of being underwater, so I wish I could swim. I've always been really envious of my friend Kristen. She takes to the water so naturally I wouldn't be surprised if she was a dolphin in her past life. I know I shouldn't, but watching her glide through the water with ease; I can't help but hate her.
"I'm just gonna swim a few more laps before I wash up, 'kay Angel?" she says, smoothing a hand over her glossy chestnut hair.
"Okay!" I reply cheerily, flashing her a toothy smile. A girl has to look pleased for her friends, right? After all, she is planning to be a professional diver.
I watch her descend to the bottom of the pool, before casting a glance at the other people gathered in the viewing area. There's a group of boys seated to my right, laughing and remarking about Kristen in their deep voices.
"That brunette's fit!" the rather more tubby one says, pointing a porky finger in the direction of my best friend. Everyone in the viewing area nods.
I know I can make heads turn too, although I wish it was for the same reason as Kristen. People look at me because I'm different. I flip open the small, pocket mirror in my handbag and run my fingers through my silvery blonde hair. My eyes glimmer in the mirror's reflection. They are the reason why everyone stares. I was born with naturally purple eyes -- which, of course must look really strange to people who are not used to seeing them. They also really stand out against my pale skin and hair, which makes me feel really self-concious.
I snap the mirror shut and place it back into the little zip pocket in my bag. I look up to see Kristen climbing the ladders out of the pool. Again, all heads turn in her direction, like something out of a movie. Typical.
Shrugging my shoulders into my coat, I pick up my bag and leave the viewing area to meet Kristen in the cafe downstairs. She usually takes a while to wash her hair free of chlorine, so I buy myself a can of coke and sit at one of the circular tables.
As I wait, I sip the cold drink and look through the glass window that allows an underwater view of the swimming pool. The water from this perspective looks so inviting... like the sea.
I look around -- the sound of someone scuffing their trainers across the polished, plastic floor catches my attention. It's Kristen's dad, who has arrived early as usual to take Kristen home and drop me off at the beach cottage I call my abode;on the way. Kristen's dad always looks really uncomfortable whenever he talks to me, like he really needs the toilet. Maybe he does just need to use the toilet and I'm being paranoid. Who knows?
"Is Kristen around?" he says, hands in his pocket and eyes looking anywhere but my face.
"Umm... she's just showering" I reply. But then, he already knew that.
Mr.Thomas sits at the table, chair scraped away as far as possible from me. It's okay Mr Thomas...I already know you can't stand me. There's no need to be so rude.
And so we wait, arms folded and distant looks moulded on our faces. Like statues that watch the time pass, never-moving, ever-still.
"Oh, sorry! I didn't realise I took so long" Kristen apologizes, as she rushes from the door of the women's changing rooms. She's actually on time, but I dare not mention that fact with Mr. Grumpy sitting next to me. I pick up my bag and empty coke can and follow them to the car. It's one of those sleek, black numbers the Mafia drive, although I've never been too interested in cars so I couldn't tell you what make and model it is.
I hop in the back seat next to Kristen, making sure I buckle the seat belt and slam the door tight. I inhale the sweet smell of pine and shower gel. Kristen's dad always buys air fresheners. Maybe he's hiding the fact he smells like a trash can with scented trees and slicks of Lynx body spray. Or, maybe he just really likes air fresheners. Whatever the reason, I turn and talk to my exhausted friend.
"You were great today!" I beam, enthusiasm dripping from my tongue. I watch her bite her lip, "Nah, I didn't execute some of the moves right. I guess I was okay though".
"You were more than okay!" I tell her with a smile.
It takes Kristen's dad twenty minutes to pull up into my drive. I thank him and wave goodbye at the dark, tinted windows of the car before walking up the gravel path to the house. Home Sweet Home.
"I'm just gonna swim a few more laps before I wash up, 'kay Angel?" she says, smoothing a hand over her glossy chestnut hair.
"Okay!" I reply cheerily, flashing her a toothy smile. A girl has to look pleased for her friends, right? After all, she is planning to be a professional diver.
I watch her descend to the bottom of the pool, before casting a glance at the other people gathered in the viewing area. There's a group of boys seated to my right, laughing and remarking about Kristen in their deep voices.
"That brunette's fit!" the rather more tubby one says, pointing a porky finger in the direction of my best friend. Everyone in the viewing area nods.
I know I can make heads turn too, although I wish it was for the same reason as Kristen. People look at me because I'm different. I flip open the small, pocket mirror in my handbag and run my fingers through my silvery blonde hair. My eyes glimmer in the mirror's reflection. They are the reason why everyone stares. I was born with naturally purple eyes -- which, of course must look really strange to people who are not used to seeing them. They also really stand out against my pale skin and hair, which makes me feel really self-concious.
I snap the mirror shut and place it back into the little zip pocket in my bag. I look up to see Kristen climbing the ladders out of the pool. Again, all heads turn in her direction, like something out of a movie. Typical.
Shrugging my shoulders into my coat, I pick up my bag and leave the viewing area to meet Kristen in the cafe downstairs. She usually takes a while to wash her hair free of chlorine, so I buy myself a can of coke and sit at one of the circular tables.
As I wait, I sip the cold drink and look through the glass window that allows an underwater view of the swimming pool. The water from this perspective looks so inviting... like the sea.
I look around -- the sound of someone scuffing their trainers across the polished, plastic floor catches my attention. It's Kristen's dad, who has arrived early as usual to take Kristen home and drop me off at the beach cottage I call my abode;on the way. Kristen's dad always looks really uncomfortable whenever he talks to me, like he really needs the toilet. Maybe he does just need to use the toilet and I'm being paranoid. Who knows?
"Is Kristen around?" he says, hands in his pocket and eyes looking anywhere but my face.
"Umm... she's just showering" I reply. But then, he already knew that.
Mr.Thomas sits at the table, chair scraped away as far as possible from me. It's okay Mr Thomas...I already know you can't stand me. There's no need to be so rude.
And so we wait, arms folded and distant looks moulded on our faces. Like statues that watch the time pass, never-moving, ever-still.
"Oh, sorry! I didn't realise I took so long" Kristen apologizes, as she rushes from the door of the women's changing rooms. She's actually on time, but I dare not mention that fact with Mr. Grumpy sitting next to me. I pick up my bag and empty coke can and follow them to the car. It's one of those sleek, black numbers the Mafia drive, although I've never been too interested in cars so I couldn't tell you what make and model it is.
I hop in the back seat next to Kristen, making sure I buckle the seat belt and slam the door tight. I inhale the sweet smell of pine and shower gel. Kristen's dad always buys air fresheners. Maybe he's hiding the fact he smells like a trash can with scented trees and slicks of Lynx body spray. Or, maybe he just really likes air fresheners. Whatever the reason, I turn and talk to my exhausted friend.
"You were great today!" I beam, enthusiasm dripping from my tongue. I watch her bite her lip, "Nah, I didn't execute some of the moves right. I guess I was okay though".
"You were more than okay!" I tell her with a smile.
It takes Kristen's dad twenty minutes to pull up into my drive. I thank him and wave goodbye at the dark, tinted windows of the car before walking up the gravel path to the house. Home Sweet Home.