Undercurrents of Wanting

The rain crashed against the windows of the cafe, streaking down in angry strides against the sharp flashes of lightning. We came right before the downpour hit, we watched the rain flood out the grass, but Georgia rushed inside before rain had a chance to touch her. The lights would momentarily dim once the thunder began to roll by, though with how they were dimly lit already, it cascaded us into darkness everytime. I half-heartedly limped my way over to the booth and set the bag down. The table wobbled under the pressure and quickly, I scrambled to steady it. My hands clasped around the edge of the table, the metal ridging digging into the flesh of my palms.

“You break it, you buy it. Am I going to have to charge you?” Georgia's voice rang out playfully as she wheeled over a cart filled with various supplies. A plethora of crepe paper in pink and purples hues, stickers in the shape of marine animals, a handful of small plushies from the aquarium, a large melamine punch bowl and a matching crystal colored ladle sat inside, and a stringed garland with glitter coated stars in a neon rainbow order practically begged to spill out from the sides of the cart.

“What? No, no. I was just moving the table back, it was…on a hill.” I quickly grabbed a purple photo album off the table and hurriedly flipped through it. The unexpected sad twinge in my heart ate at me with more fervor with each photo I saw of me and Isla.

“On a hill?” Georgia questioned as one brow shot up higher than the other, her lips parted in confusion, forming a half-smile. I spun around to be met with the cart and eyed the sides, pushing back a stuffed beluga whale to the inner center.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s pretty common in cafes,” I moved my head, looking off, at nothing in particular. “Anyways, what’s all this for? Some kids' birthday party?” I picked up another small plush, this time a soft dolphin, the black beaded eyes reflected dim glowing orbs from the soft lights. It almost emulated candlelight, how dark it had become; it had to have been well after midnight.

“Isla's birthday.” Her deadpan voice alarmed me first, my eyes shot up to meet hers. Her straight face was enough to keep me silent and my grip on the dolphin grew tighter. The confetti on rain splashed against the windows as if someone were spraying it with a hose only three feet away.

“Right. Obviously, I know it’s her birthday…” I trailed off, cheeks lightly dusted a fair shade of raspberry. The choked, stuttering laugh that came from my throat leaned more into a scoff. The shuddering trees outside had begun to dance wildly.

“Today.” she filled in for my lack of continued sentences. She offered nothing more, and nothing less. I wondered how the palm trees are doing outside.

“Yes! I knew that, I’m just messing with you, Georgia. Don’t tell me you’re gullible enough to think I wouldn’t remember something as important as Isla's birthday. I’m her…” I trailed off once more, the atmosphere thick with anticipation and second hand embarrassment. “So, where are we putting these little guys?” I began to pluck all of the plushies out of the cart and filled an armful with each new additon to avoid her gaze.

“These,” she grabbed the assortment of animals in one swift armful from mine “are going over here.” She escorted the school of animals over to the bar and lined them up to face the side door by the main table where Isla would always come through. I softly flattened the rhinestone encrusted cover of the thin plastic photo album and ran my forefinger over the sea of colors glittering on the page.

Music began to play over from the bar, it grabbed my attention instantly. The same pop punk style that Georgia and I would listen to when we hung out working on some project or when life hadn’t always been so serious. She strolled over to me, her sparkling red hoodie zipped up halfway, the hood had slouched down letting her hair pool in its bucket. “What do you think?” her tone filled with suspicious upbeat hope.

“About the music, or?” I questioned, the smirk adorning my face was enough to annoy her, that much I knew. As if on queue, she rolled her eyes without hesitating, she always got annoyed with me easily, and you know, it wasn’t always easy to not get annoyed by her either.

“The album, obviously.” She tried again, the worst fake smile stretched across her lips. Another crack of lightning sparked outside, anticipation filled my stomach as I locked in on the recessed lighting. The faint dimming submerged us back into darkness for only half a second.

“Ah,” I droned on, my smile mirrored her fake one, but I couldn’t help actually smiling once the thought popped into my head. I tore my eyes away from the lights and settled my gaze back to her. “You know, I’ve always been a fan of The Getaway Plan, but I think “Where the City Meets the Sea” might be a better song than whatever you just put on. As for albums, the entirety of Other Voices, Other Rooms is probably the best. Since it has that song on it anyways." The slight twitch of her bottom left eyelid symbolized my victory. If I had more than two hours of sleep, I would've quipped about beating her at her own game.

“Okay, not only are you wrong, but you know that’s not what I was asking. I went through all of this for Isla, the least you could do is say it looks nice.” She snatched the purple photo album from my hands and tossed it on top of the cart, effectively flattening the crepe paper rolls, though it didn’t sound like any broke or ripped. Hopefully.

“Uh,” I began to stutter, not wanting to make this a bigger deal than I thought it was, but I also wanted to keep the little peace we had between us. “It looks great, Georgia, really.” She just stared at me, that was kind of her thing. She just stared at people until they left her alone, should I leave? Thunder clapped without lightning this time, the sound reverberated and shook the floor of the cafe.

“Really?” She gave me nothing to work with. No tone change, no facial expression change, nothing.

“Yeah. The coloring and drawings all cutesy, girly stuff, Isla likes all of that.” I realized as I said it, that to her, it wasn't a compliment like I intended. She turned around and dragged the cart behind her as she headed for the main table without a word. Shutting my eyes, I followed after her, “Georgia, wait.” Placing my hands on the cart, I tried to hold it back from her, maybe in an attempt to stop her, or to make her focus on me for a minute. Thunder rolls above us, the sound so intense, my ears almost begin to ache. I felt desperate, we were either always at odds or were having the best friendship arc imagineable, but nothing ever lasted longer than two weeks before it shifted on its head again.

“I’m just setting up the main table.” Georgia held on tight to the edge of the cart, refusing to let me topple it over. Not that that was my intention. Her brows were sewed together, her face screwed into a mix of annoyance and confusion.

“Oh, I was reluctant to loosen my grip on the cart, but nodded and let her take the reins of it once again. I scrubbed a hand over my face and rubbed my eyes a few times. I was sure I had red streaks left across my face.

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird.” She looked me up and down, it wasn’t a look of disdain, but concern definitely.

“Yeah,” I drew a breath in as I rummaged through my back pockets even though I knew they were empty. I kept my gaze on the floor while Georgia began to move the crepe paper out from under the albums. “I mean,” I shook my head. “No.” It came out pathetic, like I was begging for attention I didn’t deserve. “I’m not, but I am.” Georgia turned around to face me, I saw her shoes swivel around on her heels.

“What do you mean you're not okay?" I met her gaze, though it felt like for once I was actually getting through to her. Like she was finally seeing me beyond the maps and mermaid trials and tribulations. Like she was seeing me as Chase. But that made the hurt inside me grow that much more heated. Why did it have to take so long for someone to notice, for her to recognize? Has she always been that selfish?

“How could I be?” it came out more harsh than I meant, but I couldn’t take it back. “I see you guys hanging out all around town together, ignoring me, leaving the cafe as soon as I come in sometimes, and acting as if I don’t exist. Just because I’m dating Zara–it was Isla's decision you know. She’s the one who broke up with me, so why am I having to lose my friends? I already lost her, I shouldn’t have to lose you too.” It went quiet between us, the silence hung in the air like the bitter scent of lighting stuck trees.

“I didn’t know-” I cut her off, letting loose of the rails and hold that had encapsulated my entire personality for so long.

“How could you know? You never bothered to ask! You never stopped to ask if I was okay, or to talk to me like I’m your friend. All you do is tell me I need to protect you and your secret to keep everyone else from finding out. Well, I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being your lackey and errand boy. I’m allowed to have my own life, I’m allowed to be a person outside of this whole mermaid business.” I was frantic, erratic even, my hands moved as I spoke with so much vigor, I was surprised I didn’t smack myself in the face.

“You’re right. You’re allowed to be someone outside of it.” Her shoulders didn’t drop, but the set tighter. Almost as if she had been prepared for a punch, though I was sure the verbal berating was enough to feel like one.

“Exactly, it’s true. But you don’t let me. I never get asked anything, I never get to talk to you girls anymore, instead I’m always yelled at for not doing this or not doing that, and I’m so tired of it all. I just want to go back to how things were before.”

“Before? Before Zara, or before you and Isla dated?” It was a low blow and she knew it too, the fact her lips twitched as she formed the words was enough to tell me that it was just some form of deflection.

“You know the answer to that. Don’t make me say it." That smoke trail of silence lingered between us for so long it grew physically uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if I should have left by then, but I felt too stuck to leave, almost like I had to stay and succumb to all the scrutiny of how I messed things up, take another verbal beating, just something, anything, at that point. “I miss my friends, Georgia. I know it’s my fault, I should have tried harder to stay close to you and Isla, but do you know how hard it is to navigate you two? Constantly flipping back and forth like I’m an object and not your friend? Am I supposed to just accept that I’m never going to hear from you two again? After everything we’ve gone through, everything we’ve done together. I done so much research to help you and Isla figure out more about what you are and this is the thanks and appreciation I get?”

“You’re the one offered to do it to begin with!” Georgia's frustration was clear and just as fresh as when I had told her I was exhausted from doing everything for them. Low rumbling moved in, crackles and strikes of lighting zapped around the cafe.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about, Georgia! Yes, I offered to help, I willingly gave you permission to use me as your personal assistant. Is that what you want to hear? Do you also want to conveniently forget how I gave up all of my free time to be there for you girls? How I've devoted almost every aspect of my life to keeping you and Isla being a mermaid a secret? Even when Alya came snooping around last year and found one of your fish scales?”

“You did not just call them fish scales.” She sounded as if she was on the brink of infuriation. The wind had picked up outside, the leaves rustling from the trees sounded as if they were going to snap off whole branches.

“That’s not the point, Georgia. Yes, I messed up with Alya, but I fixed it. I always fix everything for you two and you never appreciate me or the work I do for you. I learned with you about the effects, fixed the effects, I performed so many experiments to help you live a normal life!” My heart was racing a mile a minute, I could feel it beating in my chest, in my ears, I could even feel it in the veins of my neck. I’m sure my face was getting somewhat red from how much I was shouting, but it felt good to finally get this off my chest. Cathartic in a way, euphoric in another.

“You could have come to us, Chase. No one ever said we aren’t friends anymore.” Georgia crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto her left leg. She seemed annoyed, but why should she be annoyed when I’m the one that’s been left out on the street like rotting chum?

“How? When? You’re never around, Georgia. You’re always leaving when I see you, or you left right before I get there. Why is it always my fault? What did I do to you, to Isla to be treated like this? You wake me up in the middle of the night, make me sneak out and lurk around your dad's cafe just to decorate for Isla's birthday after months of treating me like I’m some ghost. And I’m expected to sit back, be quiet, and thank you for paying attention to me?” Exasperated, I put my left hand on my hip and used my right hand to shield my eyes. The hot tears brimmed the lower lids of my eyes, I tried to will them away. I didn’t want to be seen as weak, I just couldn’t take it anymore, the fight felt too big even emotionally to continue on. Darting my eyes back and forth, I focused on the pattern of the hardwood floor, taking in the tracks and grouting, noticing the floors haven’t been cleaned. The shine of a juice or smoothie stain faintly glistened on one panel in the low light. The thunder must have rolled away, the lightning didn't crackle, only sounds of the rain engulfed the cafe in a downpour so heavy, I almost thought we were underwater.

Red sneakers, dark green cargo shorts, and the red hoodie I’ve been trying not to demand back for the last three months enter my vision. Warm, awkward arms tighten around my back, blonde hair tickles my nose as she tries her best to give me a hug. Awkwardness at it's finest. “It’s not your fault, Chase.” She refused to let go, seemingly waiting for me to reciprocate her hug after moments of standing with nothing but the low hum of the lights droning on in the ceiling and the pattering against the glass. “Are you going to hug me or are you going to make me kick you out in the rain?” Her voice tried so hard to instill seriousness and threat, but I could hear–no, I could feel the tender care come through her words. I couldn’t hold my smile back as I let my arms find their way around her back, my thumbs absentmindedly rubbing short strokes against the thick material of the hoodie. She drew in long, calming breaths, instinctively making me slow my breathing to match hers. All the thoughts that swam through my mind, came to a slow paddle while we stayed in our embrace. “It’s not your fault.” she repeated once more, cementing in her tone that it was finally a fact.

“You said that already.” I teased and I felt her poke my side almost too painfully deep.

“I’m not good at this comforting thing. Either take it or get out and never see us again.” it earned a genuine chuckle from me, and I noticed it finally had gone near silent. No wind, the thunder, no lightning, almost no rain.

“Nah, you know you’d miss me too much.” My smile grew obnoxiously wide as I held her tighter against me. “Wouldn’t you, Georgia?” I questioned teasingly, both of us knowing if she doesn’t say yes, that it would start up the whole conversation again.

“Yes, Chase,” exhaustion crept up her throat, “I’d miss you very much. Just as much as I miss the pony my dad promised me and I never got.” sarcasm at her finest, surely.