CHAPTER EIGHT

Peculiar

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Thirty minutes passed.

Yet, I stood still with my hands in my pockets and my eyes fixed on the blue-green waves rolling in and out. I was lost in thought. Good thoughts. At least, I believed they were good thoughts. The ocean seemed to offer up its mysteries with each wave, depositing shells and kelp as the tide retreated.

Lydia stood beside me, but I didn't mind. In fact, it felt nice being in the presence of someone else, without having any expectations. She watched me, while I watched the sea, silence our only mutual friend. The Earth played its symphony, the wind, the waves, and the distant call of seagulls filling the air.

It was oddly peaceful. And, to my surprise, I didn't mind sharing it with her.

"Hey, listen," I cleared my throat before letting out a soft sigh, "I, uh... I know I came off a bit rude the other night, so I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Lydia's eyes were on me again, I could feel it, but I didn't meet her gaze. I kept mine fixed on the waves splashing against the shore. Still, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a small smirk tug at her lips.

"I appreciate that," she said, before cocking her brow, still smiling. "I know that I was pretty forward in asking this of you. Honestly, I didn't even think you'd talk to me. But it's cool that you did."

"I just don't get it," I huffed, shaking my head, "Why are you really doing this?" I gestured between us. "Was it a dare or some kind of prank?"

Lydia looked taken aback, her eyes wide with a hint of embarrassment. "Oh no, nothing like that at all! I've just seen you around a lot, and, well, when I get an idea–like this," she lifted her camera, gesturing towards me, "It's almost like an obsession and I can't let it go..." she trailed off, her voice lowering as she pouted.

"You're just strange," I said, looking down at her with a hint of humor in my eyes. Her frown deepened, but then, almost against her will, her lips curved into a smile.

"Not strange. Peculiar," she chuckled.

I tried fighting back a smile before responding, "Those mean the same thing."

She scrunched her nose, then huffed as she continued. "You can even ask my friend, you know. No one 'dared' me to do this. She'll probably tell you how I wouldn't shut up. I talked about you a lot!"

The tips of her cheeks flushed a deep red, and she clamped her mouth shut, realizing what she admitted. I stumbled over mine, unsure if I should've felt flattered, or creeped out. It was definitely a combination of both. Before we knew it, I suddenly burst out into laughter.

"Do you got any idea how weird this is, Jarvis?" I asked, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes. "Am I just some science experiment?"

I noticed her grip tighten around her camera. Her brow furrowed as she seemed lost in thought.

"Sorry, I don't want you to feel like a project," she spoke softly, her gaze falling to the sand beneath us.

"The truth is I envy your work—and you. I may have been doing this for a while, but when I look at your pictures... I guess I just want to improve, to be better. I'm also not exactly the best at socializing, I'm a little too forward for my own good," she chuckled awkwardly and then sighed.

Lydia suddenly met my eyes with an intensity that felt like a cyclone, her irises reflecting the shifting colors of a stormy Arctic sea. "You say your pictures have no depth and no story, but I beg to differ," she said earnestly. She pulled up the picture I'd just taken of her, her arm brushing against mine as she showed it. "Not only are you great technically, I mean, just look how amazing this is framed. The slight tilt of the horizon behind me, the beautiful, soft light from the clouds, the way that I stand out against the backdrop. There's emotion here. Something peaceful and happy, even with the darkening sky and rushing waves."

It felt strange hearing those encouraging words. I never got complimented very often, nor made to feel good. Still, I caught myself smiling, even though I didn't believe I was as good as she said.

Without warning, she tore the camera from her neck, thrusting it into my hands.

"Look into the lens, find something, and tell me the first thing that catches your eye," she demanded, "What makes you the artist you are?"

I narrowed my eyes. She really was strange. But I did as she said, slowly bringing the camera up to my face.

"You've got nothing to be jealous of, dummy. And I don't know how else to explain to you that your stuff is a million times better than mine," I said.

"Just shut up and look."

I wrinkled my nose and pursed my lips, doing as she commanded. There was so much to look at and this pressure from her wasn't helping my nerves. I glanced around the beach, soaking in our surroundings while trying to find something that resonated with me.

The scene was vast and endless; to one side, the city skyline loomed, and to the other were rolling hills. I scanned the horizon of all details, searching for a spark. My sights eventually fell on Lydia. She watched me, her brows drawn together and her arms wrapped around herself. I chewed on my cheek, the pressure growing heavier.

What could I say? I was surrounded by things that evoked emotions. It was overwhelming. I sighed, lowering the camera and turning away from her.

"So?" she pressed, "What did you find?"

"Lydia?" a deep voice called from beyond the dune, the swaying marram grass obscuring our view of the parking lot. Lydia's eyes widened before she tore them from me, her head snapping back toward the sound.

Do I know that voice?

Before I could react, Lydia stumbled up to me and snatched the camera from my hands with a hurried breath.

"What's wrong?" I asked as she began to walk backward.

"Wait here, don't move!" she whispered loudly before she turned on her heel, kicking up the sand.

A male figure emerged at the edge of the dunes wearing a black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. His longish black hair was pinned halfway up in a bun, and his fingers combed through it. Even from this distance, I could see the dangerous look on his face.

The look of jealousy.

"Lydia?" His voice cut through the air, his gaze settling on her as she stood frozen in place.

"Kyle!"

Kyle? I narrowed my eyes at him as he took a cautious step forward. That's Kyle? The asshole who hated the military with a passion? Who had mocked me since the day he found out I was in the Army? Was he her boyfriend?

I could feel the heat rise in my neck as anger hid in my clenched teeth. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep my composure.

"What are you doing here, Kyle?" Lydia walked over to him with her camera around her neck once more.

Kyle sneered. "You told me to pick you up when you were done. Remember?" Kyle sucked his teeth, his jaw tightening at the sight of me. "What's he doing here? And where is Claire?"

I could sense the accusations forming, the cogs in his brain spinning as he tried to create an issue where there was none. Annoyed, I shoved my hands into my pocket and stormed away. This wasn't my problem.

Kyle's eyes followed me. "Where the fuck you going, huh?"

Stopping in my tracks, I lowered my eyes to the sand beneath my feet. The back of my head tingled with an old, familiar urge, a tiny voice buzzing in my ear like a mosquito, telling me I needed to ruin this guy's day. It was Dawson's voice, egging me on, reminding me of the stupid brawls we used to get into when we were young.

I swallowed hard, pushing that urge down. Biting back the thought, I shook my head and continued walking.

"I'm talking to you!" Kyle slammed a hand down onto my shoulder, stopping me completely. Lydia grabbed onto Kyle's arm.

"We were just taking pictures, Kyle, That's all. It's for school," she said. "Claire couldn't make it. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you.

"I don't give a fuck. How could you not tell me? You lied. You said you were going here to take pictures of the warehouse. Not of some meat-head, baby killer."

I squeezed my eyes shut, seeing only red, a burning sensation blooming in my chest. It nearly escaped as a scream, but I gritted my teeth. A few years ago, this guy would've lost some teeth, but Dr. Garcia said I needed to learn to control my rage.

I'm trying, Doc, I really am.

He was testing me, trying to spin me around. I shrugged him off, flicking my eyes back to Lydia before locking onto Kyle. I snarled my lip, my eyes wide with fury. He hesitated.

"Don't ever fucking touch me again," I growled.

And then I left.

I didn't give either of them a chance to stop me. They didn't deserve it. Kyle was a horrible, sleazy asshole, not worth anyone's time.

As for Lydia, I couldn't help but wonder how she ended up with a guy like him. I noticed her frantic attempts to diffuse the situation. Shaking my head, I begrudgingly made my way across the lot, wishing I'd just stayed home. Out in the world, I faced more problems than I cared for. It was out here, among the people and the chaos they bring, where I was most vulnerable.

In the parking lot, my car was where I left it, but directly in the spot beside it was a beat-up Volkswagen that I assumed belonged to Kyle. I gritted my teeth as I realized how close he parked. God, if only I was my younger self. I'd have torched his fucking car.

Sliding in, I slammed my door shut and shoved the key into the ignition. My eyes caught the two of them standing there, facing each other in a heated argument. Looking down, I dug my phone out of my pocket and found Lydia's number.

Without a second thought, I deleted it.

I sped off, the squealing of the wheels leaving track marks behind. That's what I wanted to avoid. Drama. I didn't need it in my life. Not now, not ever. Not when I was like this.

I sank back into my seat. One hand was on the steering wheel, the other pressed against my temple as I massaged it. My mind drifted back to the past as I drove home. I wished I could go back in time before everything happened.