nine. the ocean & the sand

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I FEEL LIKE shit.

It's one thing to see the person you're in love with make out with someone else, but it's an entirely different thing to watch them make out with the person who made you feel miserable and insignificant.

The fact that I just told Jeremiah about Amelia and how much she hurt me, hits deeper than him kissing someone else.

And I can't even blame him because I never told him her name. He never saw the people I was trying to hide from. He had no way of knowing who I was talking about when I said Calvin cheated on me with my friend.

But part of me wonders if he would have still done it even if he did know I was talking about Amelia.

Deep down, I know he's not like that. I know he's loyal to a fault, and even though we're not friends, I don't think he'd do something so hurtful knowing how vulnerable I was with him. But still, I can't help but wonder if he really does hate me enough to hurt me like that.

I groan into my hands. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I rest my chin on top of them and stare out at the waves crashing onto the shore in the distance.

The beach is my safe place. I come here whenever I want to be alone, when I need to get all these stupid feelings out. There's something calming about knowing that the ocean will always be here. It will always wash up on the sand and then retreat as if it has somehow been burned. And yet, the temptation of the specks of sand littering its waters will be too much for it to resist, and so it will wash up on the shore again and again and again.

It hurts a little, how much the ocean loves the sand and how much the sand doesn't seem to care.

The waves love too much. The shore doesn't love at all.

I close my eyes and feel the sea breeze on my face. It whispers so softly in my ear that I almost can't hear it, but I do. I always do.

But before I can dwell too much on what it's telling me, citrus and lavender meet my nose as I breathe in the one scent that makes my heart break and stitches it together all in one. As I turn my head, I find cerulean blue eyes smiling at me.

Fuck. I can't face him right now. Not like this. I know none of what I'm feeling is his fault, but he's the last person I want to see right now.

After I saw him with Amelia, I couldn't stay at the party. Not when he started kissing her neck and she opened her eyes to stare at me with a smirk painted across her face.

I texted Vanessa that I was leaving, but of course, she didn't let me go by myself. She came home with me, Noah driving with both of us in the backseat—me crying and Van both comforting me and cursing out Jeremiah and Amelia.

I turn away from him, unable to look him in the eyes. We're both silent for a minute.

"You weren't at the party," he comments.

Internally, I scoff at him.

"I was," I say bitterly, although I don't quite think he caught that.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his head turn toward me with his eyes wide.

"Oh." His tone is...disappointed? "You didn't say hi to me."

I swallow. Would he really have cared if I did?

"You seemed a little busy."

My voice comes out harsher than I expected, but it's subtle enough for Jeremiah to mistake it as an off-hand comment.

"What do you mean?"

I clear my throat, refusing to let him know how much this affects me. "You and Amelia."

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃, jeremiah fisherWhere stories live. Discover now