𝑨𝑫𝑹𝑰𝑭𝑻, jj maybank

TWENTY-TWO - the butterfly effect

TWENTY-TWO —— the butterfly effect

The next morning, the sun shone bright, as always. Light filtered in through the kitchen windows onto the floor and across the walls, brightening Bee's house. She sat on a bar stool at the small island, ignoring the guilt nagging at the back of her mind. She didn't want to dwell on it because she knew she had no answers for herself, no reason why her mind told her to step away from JJ's body pressed against hers, no reason why she was so genuinely terrible at dealing with how she felt for others.

Ana strode into the house through the front door and her eyes immediately fell on her daughter's slouched posture. She frowned, slowly stepping closer, not all that great with heart-to-hearts herself. "Bee?" Bee didn't answer, her back still turned to her mom, so Ana tilted her head and asked, "Hailey, what's wrong?"

Bee pursed her lips, glanced at her mother who now stood across from her on the other side of the island. "Nothing."

Ana nodded, turning and busying her hands with some loose dishes and a few strewn food wrappers. "You can talk to me, you know. About anything."

Bee wanted to roll her eyes, walk away without another word, because for the past few years, her mother had barely spent any time with her. Ana barely sat with Bee long enough for her to explain why her grades had slipped last year, why she'd been gloomy for a week after her first real boyfriend dumped her freshman year, why she spent so much time with the family she'd found within her group of friends instead of the one she was born into.

Bee sucked in a deep breath, swallowed the truth she wanted to say. "I know."

Ana sighed and turned back around, scrubbed at one of the dirty dishes. "Is it something to do with your friends?"

"No," Bee lied.

Ana paused. "Whatever it is, Bee, just do the right thing. Do what your first instinct is, because those rarely ever lie. Be true to yourself."

Bee studied the back of her mother's head, her hair glossy and curled. "I know." Bee hesitated. Her mother was trying, right? And so maybe she should at least kind of try, too. Bee then continued cautiously, "It's just hard sometimes, you know? To actually know what you're feeling... That's why I surf so much."

Ana turned around, the wet cloth still in her hands. A wistful smile passed over her lips. "Your father used to surf to clear his mind, too."

Bee stared blankly at her mother for a moment before the words impacted her full-force, like a huge wave catching her off-guard. Bee knew she was more like her father than her mother, but it hurt knowing that they shared the trust they had with the sea. Once of the only consistent aspects of Bee's life turned out to be yet another reminder of her father.

She inhaled a shaky breath. "I didn't know that."

Ana nodded. "He'd often be out on the water, surfing until he was too exhausted to continue."

Silence hung in the air as Bee tried to gather her thoughts. She had no time to surf right now, as she was supposed to meet her friends at the Château soon, but she did remember something that seemed to ease the heaviness of her heart just a little.

"Dad's advice was always related to surfing." Bee smiled at the memory of her father in her mind, only a little bit cloudy around the edges. "He used to tell me that the tide is like opportunities—they come and go. If you mope for too long after falling off your board, then the tide'll go back out and you'll miss your chance."

༄ ･ ｡ﾟ

Bee sat in the van with Kie and Sarah, sweating from the heat while they read over a hand-drawn map of the crawl space where the well was, sketched quickly with a sharp pencil.