𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 03.

━ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗲

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 brown van had stayed in my mind the whole bike ride home, and I didn't like it.

It annoyed me that he was the first person, let alone a teenager like me, that I'd met on this new island, and I acted foolish. I made a fool out of myself with the bike, and then stormed off like a child. Of course I didn't want to be rude, but he had started the argument. As I biked home, I figured that maybe the whole shoving-the-can-into-his-chest-and-storming-off thing was a bit much. But it was his fault, and I didn't like the drink anyway.

When I'd gotten back to my grandparents' home, I placed the red bicycle on the tree where it was before. The hammock swayed in the wind, that had actually picked up quite a bit on my way back, and the leaves on the trees blew in every direction which created a rustling noise. I tamed my hair down that was flying in every direction, and quickly skipped up the porch stairs and pushed open the screen door.

Caroline and Daryl were both sitting on the red sofa beside each other, in front of a big radio. Daryl had his elbows leaning on his knees, and his hand covering over his mouth. Caroline sat with her hands folded, a worried expression on her face. They both looked up to me as the screen door shut with a slight bang behind me, sounding over the radio station. I slid off my shoes and placed them neatly beside the door.

"Charlotte, you're back," Caroline's face then relaxed into a soft smile as she stood up from the couch.

"It's pretty windy, do you want me to move the bike somewhere else?" I asked suddenly, glancing back at the heavy wind outside.

"No, it's fine," she breathed out, then grabbing my forearm delicately. She led me over to where she was previously sitting, motioning for me to sit down as well.

"There's going to be a hurricane tomorrow," Daryl announced, quietly.

A hurricane. The first time I leave New York, I get faced with a hurricane.

"Tomorrow? " I said, almost a whisper.

The biggest storm I had ever been apart of went nothing higher than a simple thunder and lighting show. Of course I knew what a hurricane was, I'd seen videos on the news of the damages it does all around the world, and stuff like that. But of course, I have never been apart of a hurricane, nor did I know what to expect being in one.

"They're calling it for late afternoon," Daryl spoke again, his voice sounding slightly coarse. "We were gonna give your dad a call, maybe he'll want you to go bac—"

"No, don't call him." I said. "Please don't."

Caroline exchanged a look with her husband.

"We're going to get everything ready tonight," She swallowed, and then stood up from the couch and walked around the coffee table towards the front door. "You stay inside, okay?" She smiled a soft smile.

"Okay," was all I said, nodding once.

Daryl stood up from the couch as well, patted my shoulder once, and followed his wife outside. I didn't know what 'getting everything ready' meant, but I assumed it had something to to with the boat, because they were headed straight for it. I sat criss-crossed on the sofa, listening to the tree branches hit the windows around me and the strong wind whistling past the rickety house.

I felt a breeze shiver up my legs, and I turned my head to watch my grandparents drag their boat. Caroline's hair was blowing in the wind and Daryl held down his baseball cap with a strong hand, while they both pushed and pulled with the current against their small boat.

Suddenly, the screen door flew open with a strong gust of wind, startling me. I rose from the futon sofa and walked over to close it, the wooden floor feeling cold against my feet. I decided to close the windows in the living room, too. They were somewhat hard to shut, and I figured it was because they'd been open for so long and hadn't been closed for some time. The thin blinds no longer swayed in the breeze and clattered against the windows, and the only sound left to hear from outside was the wind brushing on the house's walls.

When they were finished, I was sitting back down on the sofa, listening to the person on the radio. Caroline waked in and said that I shouldn't listen to the people on the station, because it would only make me worried. So, she turned it off and put it in the cabinet. There was no TV to put on, but I didn't really want to watch anything anyways. Caroline settled herself at the round dining table and pulled out a deck of cards.

"Wanna play?" She suggested, a wide smile on her lips despite the circumstances outside. She held up the red deck of cards. "Pass the time before dinner."

___

I watched the waves pile over each other outside my window most of the night. I had been sitting under the warm covers of my new bed, gazing outside at the raging water, which had blew past the dock.

Caroline had came in eventually and sat on the edge of my bed. We talked for a while, and I asked her questions that I was too afraid to ask earlier.

I liked having a grandmother. Especially the fact that she talked and listened to me. Our conversation panned out over an hour, and at some points we couldn't stop laughing, almost waking Daryl up. As we talked about my parents, and about the island, I grew more and more fond of her. She talked to me like I was her long lost sibling, that she hadn't seen in years.

It was quite a refreshing feeling, having someone you've barely met talk to you like they've known you forever. While we laughed, I came to a realization that she'd been wanting to talk to someone like me, a granddaughter, for so long, except she never got the chance to since my parents hid me from everything. It saddened me that I could have known my grandparents sooner in my life, and maybe visited the island more often during my childhood. Caroline even said that she would have taught me how to surf if she still knew how.

I was happy that we had already made a bond so quickly. It was unexpected too, that we would get close only after the first day. She reminded me of my dad, with the way they both throw their heads back when they laugh, and the specific way they roll their r's when speaking. I saw his face in hers as well, and it made me think of how much of a great mother probably Caroline was for my father.

"Lunch is ready," I heard Caroline announce from the front of the house, as I sat on my made bed.

I had spent the first half of my second day unpacking all my clothes, realized that most of them didn't fit the island picture, stared out the window for the water, and organized the pin board with my own pictures I brought from home. I had eventually changed out of my pj's, that I noticed were way too silky against the cotton sheets I slept on, and made a mental note to ask Caroline if we could go shopping one day soon.

I trotted out of my new bedroom, listening to the floors creak beneath my steps. Flattening down the most basic t-shirt I could find, I pulled down my jean shorts and headed for the kitchen. Caroline was settled in one of the dining chairs closest to the window, her fingers peeling open a thin newspaper, as she ate a sandwich. I smiled when she looked up.

I grabbed the plate she had prepared for me, and sat down in the seat next to her. The wind blew outside the same as it did the day before, hitting the sides of the house roughly.

"The wind's really picking up," Caroline noticed, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"It got really bad last night after you left my room," I said casually, now feeling more comfortable with talking to her after our conversation.

"Jeez," she shook her head in response, as I took a bite out of the delicious sandwich.

"There was this, uh," I stopped, wiping my mouth, "thing that kept hitting the house last night, outside my room," I explained, looking at her.

"Oh my," a slight worried look took over her facial features, "that would be Daryl's boat parts," she rolled her eyes, glancing back in the direction of my room. "I better put them away in the basement before they blow away with the wind."

"Is it a lot of stuff?" I asked, curious.

"Yeah, heavy stuff," she nodded, "but I'll get him to help me with it, don't you worry," she smiled.

I then kept eating my sandwich and looked out the window. As if on cue, Daryl appeared, marching up the porch steps with an annoyed look. I hadn't seen him at all that morning.

"We don't have any oil left for the truck," he said, right when he walked in. "It won't start."

"What do you need the truck for?" Caroline asked, turning her head around to see him. The screen door clattered against it's rickety frame, slamming shut from the vigorous wind.

"To get more oil?" he said with his eyes wide, looking at her as if she was oblivious. I tried not to laugh, so I shoved another bite of the sandwich in my mouth.

"I see," Caroline bit the inside of her cheek. "Well I'll go down to the store on the bike and get some, you guys-"

"I can go to the store for you," I suggested all of a sudden. I wanted to get out of the house, not to get away from my grandparents, but to explore the island on my own a bit more.

"No, sweetie, the wind is too strong," Caroline disagreed, placing her hand on my forearm that rested on the table.

"You said that you needed to get the boat parts moved before it gets worse," I claimed.

"Daryl could do that," she said. "the hurricane is coming soon."

"That takes two people, Carol," Daryl rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Charlotte could drive the bike down, it's not far."

"And you gave me that map on my phone last night, I know how to get there," I added, a small smile growing on my lips knowing that I could help them.

"Are you sure the service will be working? With all this wind," Caroline looked at me, doubtful.

"I'll be quick," I laughed lightly. I didn't know why I wasn't scared of going out in the beginning of a hurricane.

"I guess so," She looked down, sounding worried.

"The shop's just a minute into town, RedFord's," Daryl told me, as I stood up. "Ask em' for Daryl's oil, they'll know what to get ya. It'll fit right into the bicycle basket," he patted my shoulder approvingly.

"Be safe, please, Charlotte," Caroline smiled a motherly-kind of smile at me, though still looking worried.

I smiled at both of them and accepted the cash money that Daryl put in my palm. I slid it into my pocket and reached up to tie my hair with an elastic, cautious that it would blow in the wind. They watched me make my way down to the red bicycle still leaning against the tree. I hopped on, glanced to them watching me, and began my pedalling down the street.

Biking in hurricane-wind was not a walk in the park, but eventually I had made it. There was barely anyone on the street.

The sky was dark and cast a gloomy look over the tiny buildings, making the street give off an eery-feel. There was a few men loading gallons of something into their trucks again, and some other people loading their vehicles with things from the car shop.

As I parked my bike against the wall of the RedFord's, I looked up and across the street, where I saw frantic people heading into the same building. It was an open, pale blue, house-looking building, with an wide open porch that lead to the water, and a few boats. People were crowding and shouting from inside.

I ignored and walked into the shop. I made it quick and asked the man at the counter for "Daryl's oil" like Daryl had instructed me to, and the man went to retrieve it. He looked a bit sceptical, and sort of eyed me down with a curious look, and I didn't bother with it since I figured it was because of my unknown presence. He told me that he was closing the shop, that I had just made it in time, but I had to leave. So, I payed the man and left with the oil.

Right when I placed the heavy container in the basket of Caroline's bike, a loud and ear-wrenching sound of sirens broke out over the low city noise. It was startling and sent a ginormous spike of fear right into my chest. I'd never heard anything like it before. It was alarming and terrifying, the way the sirens screeched out over the whole island.

I hopped on the bike quicker than ever, and then felt raindrops on the top of my head. It immediately started to pour rain, a pounding rain that I'd never felt before. The sound of the big raindrops hitting against the sidewalk was louder than the heartbeat of my chest. My shirt was soaking wet by the time I started to drive on the road again.

My breathing was loud, my pedalling was so profuse through the wind that I could've pulled every muscle in both legs, and my eyes were blurry from the water blowing in them, hardly being able to see was was ahead of me. It was a mistake to come out. I was already driving against the current of the wind, but on top of that, it was raining like cats and dogs.

I didn't know if I was heading in the right direction, and I wasn't going to pull out my phone in the pouring rain. So, I pedalled and pedalled, even though my legs were nearly going to burst from going so hard.

Just when I thought I'd reached the street to turn on, a pair of headlights outlined my shadow from behind me.

"Hey, lady!" A familiar voice yelled out to me, loud over the pounding rain. "What the hell are you doing!" It was the voice of a young man, maybe a teenager. It was hard to tell.

Then, I looked to the side and saw the dirty brown van through my soaked eyes.

I pedalled faster.

"Hey! It's Cherry Cola," The boy that I ran into the day before, yelled from the drivers side of his van. I was sure it was him, just by the name he called me. "Fancy seeing you here!" he laughed in a shout, his voice coarse.

The van began to drive at the same pace I was pedalling at, which, wasn't all that fast.

"Look, I don't really care," his voice was loud over the rain and wind. "And I'm not a meteorologist," he shouted, "But I don't think you should be biking in this weather!" he stated, with a loud volume.

"I don't need your help!" I shouted back, my voice angry. I couldn't see jack-shit at that point ahead of me.

"You're gonna want it when you blow away in the hurricane, princess," he yelled.

"Go away!" I bickered, trying to pedal faster.

"John B, just let her go," another voice yelled from inside the van, loud enough for me to hear. "We don't even know who she is."

"Yeah, and just let her die, huh," the other retorted.

John B, 'the Routledge kid' as Caroline had called him.

"Look— Cherry Cola," he called out to me again, hanging out his window. "Just hop in the van,"

"I'm not trusting a boy driving a sketchy van," I yelled back.

"It's not sketchy—" he protested, sounding offended. "Just hop in."

"Why—" I got cut off when a splash of rain splattered all over my legs. "do you care!"

"Well, it's kind of rude to just leave you to die on the side of this road during a hurricane, now is it," he argued back loudly, sounding annoyed now.

"God, John B," his friend groaned.

"And besides, if they find your body tomorrow morning— they'll be asking for people who saw you," he continued, "I kinda don't want to be a witness of your death— never goes well. So, if you'd like to hop in, we'll drive you home— I mean, unless you want to die, which is kind of dark but-"

I pulled the breaks. The van stopped beside me with a halt.

I wiped away the hair that had fallen out of my ponytail, my whole body drenched in water.

"Knew you'd come around," the teenager boy groaned, but smiled. "Jump in, Cherry Cola."

༄

𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 !!