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Dark and grey. Heavy, building tension as the minutes go by and bringing anticipation for the water that will fall at any time. It’s silent, though. Comes in barely audible whispers, a silent bomb about to explode. Somewhat peaceful.
That’s what the sky looks like now, but Beca doesn’t walk faster. She enjoys the weather, the weird, charged calmness of the moment. The first raindrops reach her cheeks right after she turns the left at the end of Barden University. It’s cold and she shivers, lifting a hand to tuck rebel curls behind her ear as her head bobs down so the water doesn’t fall to her eyes.
She knew it was coming. Felt it in the dry air this morning, through the birds flying away, all in the same direction. It isn’t bad, though. A good cleaning to the soul, Beca thinks, although she should have been better prepared, because her all stars are soaked and she can feel the cold wind through her thin sweater.
There’s no lightings, nor thunders, only a moody crying sky—which pretty much reflects Beca’s own humor most days, except she never cries—and the rain is falling faster now. Beca doesn’t mind. She’s alone in the middle of the street, watching as the raindrops fall against the concrete, one after another, and explode in tiny little droplets, and the music is so loud in her headphones there’s that annoying beep sound in her ears.
No, that’s not right.
There’s a car honking behind her, and she rushes to the sidewalk to let it pass. It comes to a stop right beside her, though, and Beca looks to her left, eyes wide and cold fingers already pausing her music.
Sunshine is inside the car. She wonders if the rainbow will paint the sky anytime later. “Beca! Get in, you’re gonna be sick!” it says, pushing the passenger door open before Beca has the chance to say anything.
She enters the car, although she would normally refuse, because Beca loves the rain.
But she also really, (kind of) really (perhaps) loves Chloe.
***
It’s movie night. Beca is used to them by now and knows better than trying to lock herself up in her room—which always ends up with one of the Bellas almost breaking the damn lock—so on the couch is where you’ll find her, phone in her left hand, while her right arm is pinned between her side and Chloe’s back.
The sky is mad. So is Beca (but no, it has nothing to do with the guy who’s sitting at the other end of the couch, with Chloe’s feet stretched over his lap.)
(It’s just that movie night is their thing, the only time in which Beca allows herself to shift just a little closer to Chloe’s body.)
(Benji and Jesse are there, too.)
(Beca doesn’t mind.)
The thunders are loud outside the windows. Strong enough to make it feel like the walls are trembling, just about to fall apart. Three of them come in a row, the last one taking the power out with it. Some of the girls scream, that small, high-pitched kind of surprise.
Candles are lit, drinks are brought, and music is put on the small speaker, which batteries they pray will last a while.
“That’s kinda creepy, isn’t it?” She hears Chloe murmuring.
“I’ll protect you, babe,” the guy answers.
Rolling her eyes at that is inevitable. And if Beca’s arm slides under Chloe’s, around her waist with enough pressure to bring the girl closer to her, that... doesn’t mean anything.
Chloe throws herself the rest of the way backwards, trusting Beca to catch her (she does) and looking up at her in that very Chloe-like way.
Moments like that usually have Beca feeling awkward, but it never feels weird with Chloe, the girl who is constantly making Beca forget she doesn’t like physical affection. It is so easy to forget it when she looks down and lock their eyes together, finding in the intensity of Chloe’s gaze a twinkle—so small, but enough to have Beca wishing her eyes are shining like that, too.
Wishing her hold on Chloe’s waist and the way her thumb moves so lightly, caressing the bit of exposed skin she finds there, are enough to express what she still doesn’t find the strength (or courage) to voice just yet.
Trusting people is an issue. It had started long ago, with her dad—which was a piece of what love meant to little Beca—leaving her and her mother behind. So, if love can walk away so easily, what in this world is permanent?
Nothing.
It rained that day. Not in an aggressive way like it’s pouring outside now, but in a different one. There was sun and fluffy white clouds in the sky, and then suddenly there was rain in the mix.
Nine-year-old Beca was upstairs in her room, watching from her window the world that apparently had gone crazy, but feeling comforted by it. Even the sky didn’t know how to feel, so why should Beca?
She opened the window, the wind blowing on her cheeks and drying confused tears, and cried as the sky did, too.
Skipping this whole love part is the easiest, less painful way Beca has found to live life. If only that pair of crystal-blue eyes wasn’t there, making itself a room inside Beca’s heart, so that now, with each time it pulses, she’s reminded of how much she has been wanting to stay.
Sighing, Chloe looks away from her, smile still painting her lips. It’s incredible, Beca thinks, how the flames coming from the candles reflect on her eyes. Make them look mysterious in a way. She admires Chloe’s profile for a minute, letting her eyes travel from Chloe’s eyes to the tip of her nose, almost bringing a hand up to move a misplaced curl that sticks to Chloe’s glossy lips.
That’s when Chloe’s head bobs up again, so abruptly Beca doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed, because Chloe is smiling again. “Look,” she lifts an arm, “this made me think of you.” She lets Beca take the phone from her hand. Chloe giggles as Beca takes in the picture of an angry kitten. “That’s definitely your spirit animal.”
“Shut up,” Beca slams Chloe’s shoulder playfully, “it isn’t!”
“You’re literally doing that face now!” Chloe’s laugh only grows louder, “so tiny and grumpy. Just adorable!” She gets up, turning her head just so she can plant a kiss on Beca’s face.
“Dude, gross,” Beca wipes her cheek, watching from the corner of her eyes a smile that widens and eyes that sparkle.
The night takes a whole different path than it was supposed to when everyone sat around the Bella House living room. A bit of alcohol in their blood is enough to have them starting to dance, an impromptu party in a stormy night.
It’s fun.
Beca finds herself between Jessica and Flo, hips shaking as she lets the loud beats intoxicate her body. An unexpected twist happens then, Stacie’s voice sounding louder than the music, a finger pointed towards Chloe, who’s standing close to the stairs. “Truth or dare, Ginger?”
“What?” Beca exclaims, turning in the general direction Stacie’s voice came from. “We’re not even playin—“
“Dare!” Chloe answers, because of course she doesn’t care there’s not a bottle to turn and Stacie’s just being annoying.
“I dare you to make out with Mr. Handsome there,” Stacie winks, turning around like she never said anything at all.
Like Beca’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at the sight of Chloe pushing the guy against the wall, because, playing or not, a dare is a dare to Chloe, and then her mouth is on his, and his hands are gripping her hips and—
Beca is suddenly outside the house. Because she had learned long ago that she must not run away from the storms, nor dance under the pouring rain. Sometimes it’s enough to stand in the middle of it, as the rough wind collides against her body, bringing droplets with it. They are cold and Beca shivers, though it can’t be compared to the big cumulonimbus that just formed where she had thought was warm enough.
She sits on the stairs, facing the ghostly-like dark houses. At least here, Beca’s heart is safe. But she didn’t consider how hard it would be to hold a lit candle while out in the rain.
***
“Bec, we’re almost ready to go!” Chloe enters the room Beca shares with Amy.
Beca groans as she turns between the sheets. “Do we really have to?”
“Don’t be such a grumpy kitten,” Chloe throws herself on the bed and Beca rolls her eyes at the new nickname Chloe has been calling her since the blackout day. “It’s Lilly’s birthday!”
“But dude, it’s so cold outside!” Beca moves, allowing Chloe to lay down beside her. “You’re not making it easy to leave, by the way. The bed will get warmer with both of us here,” she complains, a failed attempt to sound mad, but Chloe is smiling at her.
“You’re adorable,” Chloe grabs her phone, turning it so she can see the screen. “What are you listening?”
“Just a random playlist Spotify suggested,” Beca lets Chloe have one of the earphones, watching as Chloe moves her head side to side with the beats. “I actually thought about you when this song started.”
“You did?” Beca nods. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs, adjusting her head on the pillows. “It just sounds happy, I think.”
There it is again, right on Chloe’s face. That wide smile that could be sunshine to any rainy night.
They don’t say anything else, but Beca’s heart is accelerated when Chloe brings an arm to curve around her waist and slides a bit closer to cuddle.
“I think we should get going,” Beca’s voice is lower, somewhat careful, though she doesn’t know why.
Maybe she doesn’t want this perfect space of time to end.
“No,” the hold on Beca’s waist tightens slightly, and she feels Chloe’s small sigh against her neck. “Stay. Just a little more.”
So Beca does. At least until Amy bursts into the room and rushes them out.
Forty minutes later, the Bellas find themselves surrounded by trees, with Amy shouting they are heading to Doll’s Head Trail—whatever that means—but of course Lilly would want some creepy activity for her birthday.
The dry leaves are noisy beneath Beca’s feet as she walks. There are trees on each side of the path, half inclined towards the center, as a failed attempt to get closer to one another.
For a few seconds, nothing appears. They are surrounded by a dark forest where the foliage seems to have a life of its own. The sky suddenly splits, turns all foggy, the storm letting them know it’s on the way. The forest gets even darker and Beca suddenly wonders if there's any cell phone signal around, because if anything happens to them, there's no way anyone can find them there.
Some old electronics appear, telephone ropes, crucifixes hanging randomly between the twisted trunks.
And then, dolls.
Doll arms, doll heads, doll legs.
It’s an amount of trash made hauntingly human, with quotes and song lyrics or whatever people wanted to write and Beca faces each one of them, trying to understand them, decipher the minds of the many artists who created them. The messages they wanted to pass, what they were trying to criticize.
There’s at least four doll heads inside old television frames, probably criticizing the way people are alienated nowadays. Someone’s painted Sponge Bob on an old trunk, the colors almost faded away making it look creepy enough so Beca feels shivers all over her body.
There’s a big metal circling a fallen trunk. Beca approaches it, trying to read the words written in there more clearly.
“With this ring...” and then the sentence stops there, or nature grew big enough to cover up the rest of it. Any way, Beca thinks it is the best piece of art in the trail. That’s the sentence many people say and most times never do as promised, no matter which words they say next.
“That one’s nice,” Chloe comments beside her, facing the old trunk.
“Funny how people quote this for forever, only to watch their promises turning meaningless after a few years.” Beca answers.
She feels Chloe turning to look at her. “Do you think their love become meaningless?”
“Did it mean anything at all if they walk away in the end?”
“A relationship can’t be defined only by how it ends, Bec.” Chloe touches her shoulders, turning Beca so they are facing each other. “There’s a whole journey before that.”
Beca crosses her arms around herself, as if she’s trying to protect herself from Chloe’s words. She opens her mouth to respond, just when Amy’s voice reaches their ears. “That one is coming out the trunk’s vagina!" Amy points to a doll head buried between the trunks of two intersecting trees.
Laughter fills the air between them, Chloe tilting her head backwards and holding her belly from how hard she laughs.
"Jesus, Amy!” Aubrey complains, but her lips are clearly fighting a smile.
Next to them, close to the fallen trunk, there are random doll arms and a small wooden car a kid probably threw away. Chloe kneels down on the grass.
“What are you doing?” Beca asks, arms still hugging herself, though now it’s due to the cold.
“There was a sign in the beginning of the trail,” Chloe explains as she takes the objects from the ground, “saying we could rearrange things we find along the way.”
She finishes and takes a step back, admiring her work. The doll arms are now buried in the dirt, lifting the car up, as if trying to find something to fix.
Beca can’t help but laugh. “That’s great, Chlo.”
“Hey you two, come over here!” Stacie yells a few feet behind them. Chloe walks towards their friend, but Beca turns the opposite way, slowly walking away towards parts of doll placed around an old fan. In the minute she can’t see her friends anymore, she fears she’s lost.
In the context of darkening forests where Beca stumbles to old, dirty pieces of doll everywhere and one gray squirrel after the next, everything is creepy as hell. Only Lilly could find a place like this, she thinks.
There are doll arms buried into the grass, dead bodies climbing up from inside the earth, pretty much like the ones Chloe reorganized; the metals hanging from the trees around bump onto one another and for a moment, Beca thinks those earth-children are screaming in agony, imploring her not to leave them behind.
Then, she comes upon a beautiful boardwalk. A breath of fresh air. A step out of the woods is enough to feel the droplets falling from the sky and Beca smiles, for the foliage was so dense she couldn’t tell it was raining until now.
Her steps are slow, there’s nowhere to rush to. She reaches the wooden boardwalk, sitting in the middle of it, closer to the lake than it’s safe for a clumsy person like Beca, but she doesn’t really mind.
The sky is still foggy, and it feels like a dome has fallen around this place, leaving Beca alone and trapped inside it. That is, Beca and someone else, whose footsteps sound behind her.
“You shouldn’t be that close to the water,” Chloe warns, though she sits right beside Beca. “There must be snakes around.”
Beca smirks. Can’t help herself. “Then you’re risking your life just as much as I am.”
“Smart ass,” Chloe giggles, and Beca marvels at the sound until it dies. Both girls fall silently for a while, just listening to the thin rain as it falls around them. “What do you love so much about the rain?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just something I was thinking,” Chloe explains, looking down at her own fingers as they part red hair in three locks. “You always complain about the cold. But never about the rain.”
“Oh, I don’t—I just…” She faces Chloe’s hands as they move, braiding her hair. “It takes the dirt away. Like, uh, my dirt?” Beca laughs at herself. She feels weirdly nervous, and shakes her head, trying to organize feelings and thoughts inside her mind, hoping Chloe will understand. “I feel like I carry a lot inside me. Things that make me sad and scared, and most times I can’t quite reach them, but, from time to time, the rain washes them away for me.”
“You could talk to me, Beca. I wouldn’t judge you.” And Beca knows Chloe would never judge her, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she keeps staring at the now-braided damp red hair, where Chloe is placing tiny white flowers she grabs from a shrub beside her. “I dreamed about you last night.”
“You did?”
“Yeah,” Chloe smiles to herself. “The sky was colorful, but I couldn’t tell if the sun was rising or setting, and it was raining. I don’t remember any music playing, but you were dancing in a white dress. You looked so beautiful, so peaceful. I wanted to join you so badly.”
“Why didn’t you?”
That’s when Chloe stops playing with her hair and turns to face her. Beca isn’t quite used to the feeling of a racing heart, and knows it has never felt like this with another person before. But this is Chloe, her best friend, and along with the inner trembling, Beca feels something else.
Fear. Of feelings, and loneliness, and promise breakers, and how incredibly close Chloe is to her now. “I don’t know,” Chloe finally whispers, turning her head away again.
Somewhere behind them, Beca hears Amy’s voice saying this was such a Blair Witch-y experience, and there’s countless new pairs of steps approaching them in the boardwalk now.
She grabs Chloe’s hand anyway. Squeezes it lightly, catching the attention of the girl who, even standing under the winter rain, looks so much like spring.
***
To hide away in a corner, sat under the extremely bright lights as people stumble over her minute after minute is something very Beca-like. Especially in parties like this, filled with such loud music she would have to scream to be heard.
Stacie sits by her side, Flo and Cynthia-Rose across her, with their backs to the pool in the Treble House. They have been talking for a while, though Beca doesn’t remember the subject.
“You were expelled from a club?” Flo asks, brows raised up as Stacie’s head bobs backwards in a laugh too loud to be fake.
And their chatting goes on, but Beca is busy watching a flower that grows between a crack in the ground. Almost fascinated, as the wind forces it to bend over in every direction and tiny raindrops fall over it. But the flower never shatters. Doesn’t lose a single petal, and Beca wonders how something so fragile can resist that much. So small, yet so strong.
It reminds Beca that spring is coming, although, even with the rain, it feels too hot outside. Almost suffocating. Maybe she drank too much. Or maybe it’s the fact Beca is watching the flower so she doesn’t have to look at a specific redheaded girl, wearing a green dress that’s glued to her body because she jumped into the pool, and who is dancing with Blackout-Guy.
The wind shouldn’t be this warm, blowing in Beca’s face and making her feel like the air is gone from her lungs. Instead, it should be cold and dry, preparing nature so the flowers can grow in the spring, glow in the summer, only to die when autumn arrives and give room to the winter’s naked branches; the world has four seasons that come and go, tremble and change all the time. The rules of nature have never changed. They have dominated Earth before human race, they are here now and will remain until there’s no piece of the actual generation. People should be used to changes.
And still, there isn’t a cell in Beca’s body that will ever feel used to watching Chloe feeling at home in someone else’s arms. That’s a new sensation. It squeezes her heart, creates a tension down in her stomach, and the knots are not giving any signals they can be easily untied.
So when Flo and Cynthia-Rose leave to grab more drinks, Beca asks another one for herself. She can handle one more (or three, or five.)
(She just needs a distraction.)
Her thoughts have been so loud in her mind, Beca didn’t notice Stacie stayed behind until she moves to sit by her side, eyes following the direction she’s staring at. She hears Stacie sighing contently.
“I think this is exactly what Chloe’s energy looks like,” Stacie comments, then laughs.
And she’s right.
Chloe’s deep green, short sleeved dress falls right above her knees. It’s soaked, and you can see the faint glitter dots along the skirt. They glow whenever the raindrops reach them. There’s a flower crown on her head, small white petals that look like the ones from the tiny flowers Chloe braided her hair with back at the Doll’s Head Trail, in contrast with the vibrant red of her hair.
Beca doesn’t know the song that’s playing, but Chloe dances to it. Bare feet in the wet ground, a bit too close to the pool. Her moves are delicate, almost as if she’s floating, and Chloe has her eyes closed and head bobbed backwards, letting the rain fall on her face. Her arms move, slowly and out of rhythm, passing the impression that, just in this precious space of time, Chloe is weightless.
She looks… beautiful. Enchanting. It crosses Beca’s mind that this is the picture of freedom itself. But Beca doesn’t say it. Instead, she sights. “Yeah, she looks so happy,” but her voice is too weak.
“But not you,” she hears the smirk in Stacie’s voice.
She turns her head to face her friend, “huh?”
Stacie rolls her eyes, “Beca, you look at Chloe like she’s this mystical creature that just came out of a fairytale.” The white shirt Stacie is wearing moves upwards when she shifts a little to squeeze Beca’s knee.
Beca doesn’t mind denying the statement. “Yeah, whatever. She looks happy with someone else, though,” she shakes her head towards where Blackout-Guy is now hugging Chloe from behind, taking all the enchantment away.
“But you’re not happy,” Stacie repeats.
And now there’s something else bubbling inside Beca’s chest. It feels like anger. “Dude, it doesn’t matter what I feel. She hasn’t done anything wrong. It isn’t fair to feel like that about her happiness.”
“God, I really wish you were less of a dummy,” Beca’s mouth open in shock, but Stacie goes on, “Nobody cares if Chloe isn’t doing something wrong. Literally, who cares?” Stacie gesticulates, a finger pointed towards Beca. “Any way, you’re upset. That’s what you’re feeling. It’s irrelevant if what made you feel like that is fair or not.”
“Dude, let it go,” Beca looks away from Stacie, away from Chloe, back to her strong little flower. “Why are you insisting so much?”
“Oh, my God. It’s like you don’t know Chloe at all!” Stacie reaches out, holding onto Beca’s shoulder and pulling so that Beca is now facing her. “Chloe likes connecting with people, Beca. A few make out sessions doesn’t mean there are feelings involved.”
“Stacie…” Beca begs, unsure.
“Go get her, Bec.” Stacie winks, “she’s probably had too much to drink anyway.”
So, Beca steps into the warm rain, walking towards Chloe with a confidence that betrays how shaky her legs actually are. In a moment of insecurity, she stops. Turns around to where Stacie is now standing beside Cynthia-Rose, and her nod is enough to make Beca’s legs work again.
Chloe can’t see her from where she is now—sitting at the edge of the pool, head down, her face hidden by a curtain of red curls. She apparently doesn’t hear Beca arriving, either, so Beca touches her back gently.
“Hey, Chlo.” And Chloe’s whole face lights up with the smile she gives after finding Beca’s gaze. Beca’s heart jumps. Chloe’s wet hair sticks to her face, and Beca grabs a scrunchie she has on her wrist. “Let me tie your hair back?”
Chloe blinks lazily, reaching up to free the few strands that stick to her face, and turning around so that Beca can tie her hair. “Thank you,” Chloe murmurs when Beca’s done.
Beca gives her a smile, a somewhat timid one. “Want some water?”
“I’m drinking soda,” Chloe shakes her yellow cup. “I’ve stopped drinking a while ago.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m great!” Chloe readjusts herself so that her legs are bent on the knees and her heels inside the pool. “Are you?” She lays back on the wet ground, tapping the empty space next to her.
Beca imitates her. “I’m fine.” The water in the pool is cold on her toes, but the rain is warm on her face. A droplet falls right into her right eye, and Chloe giggles as Beca curses.
“You should have joined me when I was dancing in the rain. My dream would come true.” She turns her head to look at Beca, but Beca keeps her eyes in the dark sky, watching the raindrops falling from a different perspective.
“You had company. I didn’t want to interrupt anything,” Beca answers, ignoring the way Chloe’s stare burns where it lands.
“Tom is just a friend, Bec.”
“Whatever, dude,” Beca throws an arm to cover her eyes, already regretting coming here. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
“Beca.” Chloe reaches out, touches Beca’s arm and shakes it to get her attention. When Beca doesn’t give in, Chloe takes away the arm covering her eyes, although Beca is still facing the sky. She takes a deep breath, feels the way Chloe’s fingers travel down her arm until they are intwined with hers, and turns to face her. It takes her breath away, because Chloe is smiling like she knows something. “I like the blue in your eyes,” is all she says.
Beca laughs, “dude, you’re drunk.”
“Yeah, but really, I do.” Chloe’s thumb stroke Beca’s knuckles in a barely there touch, but enough to have Beca shivering. “Almost as much as I like you.”
In a wave of bravery and with a desperately beating heart, Beca’s answer comes in a whisper. “I like you, too.”
She doesn’t mind explaining in which way.
***
Shopping is the top one thing Beca hates the most. Just thinking about the stores filled with people and the long lines to pay at the checkout has Beca’s head aching. For some unknown reason, Cynthia-Rose asks Beca to join her at the mall as she looks for some new swimsuits for their summer travel next week.
Chloe came along with them, though she stayed at Forever 21. Said she’d wait for Beca to grab dinner afterwards, as Cynthia-Rose pulled Beca towards a different store which’s name she doesn’t remember anymore.
The swimsuit section is at the other end of the store, but Beca looks at the expensive headphones she can’t afford, just out of curiosity.
“I had a boyfriend once, you know,” Cynthia-Rose’s voice sounds in Beca’s ear, though she hadn’t realized her friend was by her side.
“That’s nice, dude,” she answers, not really registering her words.
“Yeah,” Cynthia-Rose grabs a box containing an AirPods Max, studying the headphone as if she’s interested in buying it. “Denise was my best friend at the time. I was fifteen, and I had no idea how I felt.”
The raindrops sound heavy as they fall against the store’s ceiling.
Beca puts the box containing the headphones back into place, turning to face Cynthia-Rose. “What happened?”
“For a while, I didn’t think about how Denise was the one person I’d rather be with all the time—way more than with my boyfriend.” Cynthia-Rose crosses her arms, back leaning against the shelf. “She kissed me one day. We were drunk, and I felt bad about cheating on my boyfriend. But things fell into place after that. And I’ve been happier than ever.”
“I’m glad you’re happy, Cee.” Beca says, and she means every word.
Cynthia-Rose smiles, gives her a nod. “It was scary crossing that one line with my best friend, you know. But so worth it.” She faces her feet, then the ceiling, then back to Beca’s face. Sights before she speaks again. “If that feels familiar somehow, Beca—and I know it does—just go for it. I wouldn’t be talking to you if I wasn’t sure. Ginger loves you.”
Beca knows that. Maybe she has known all this time.
What she doesn’t know is why she feels so scared.
***
It’s been a week and a half since they arrived at Tybee Island and the sun is almost setting, taking with it their last day there.
Beca’s feet sink in the soft sand as she walks away from the lighthouse’s base where the others stand a bit behind her. Her toes are killing her, but the sand’s heat brings a welcoming warmth to her body and Beca closes her eyes for a minute, feeling her hair fly with the salty breeze as she approaches the sea.
It took a hundred seventy-eight steps to get to the top of the lighthouse. A hundred seventy-eight black steps that made Beca dizzy and regret that she decided on wearing sandals instead of comfortable shoes. But it didn’t bother her once she arrived at the top, the view is breathtaking. It’s possible to see all of Tybee from up there, and at the top of that little world, Beca almost forgot everything. People, the lack of them, deceptions and joys.
Moments, memories.
Beca felt small (smaller.)
But deep inside, she likes it; Beca likes giant places that remind her she’s just a tiny person in the world and her problems don’t really matter. That there are reasons and causes bigger than running away from her best friend because she’s in love with her.
Tybee is enchanting. In all the aspects, the history, the attractions and the people who live there.
They went to the pier earlier. Those that the bridge extends itself as far as sight can reach, losing itself between the sea. The Bellas excitedly stepped into the pier and walked to the end. Beca stood behind, following them from under the wet timber and slightly fearing that the whole thing was going to fall over her head any time.
She could hear Benji as he called Jesse to see the extremely big fish that came out from the fishing rod, Flo and Cynthia-Rose talking about the drinks they’d buy with Stacie. Lilly was twirling crazily beside Jessica and Ashley, her unmistakable red galoshes making the floor tremble upon Beca’s head.
And then she was smiling to herself, because even though these people are clearly crazy, they’re her people. The family she’s chosen for herself.
The water’s noise made Beca feel peaceful, the salty air miraculously helping her to breathe, bringing back all the oxygen she thought she was losing day after day. And it was only when someone stopped by her side that Beca realized she’s wasn’t walking anymore.
Chloe was facing her as if she could read past her head, entering her brain and reading all her thoughts. Beca made sure to try and clean her mind before Chloe spoke, just to be sure. “You don’t need to isolate yourself, you know.”
Everything was too much. Too many thoughts and too many feelings.
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” Beca pointed to the timber above them that still trembled with Lilly’s jumps. “We’re not a very quiet group.”
Chloe’s lips curved into a recognizing smile and Beca went back to following the way under the pier, Chloe instantly walking by her side. They walked in a comfortable silence, Chloe giggling about something happening above them.
They reached a point where, even though the pier kept going on, there were too many rocks to walk further, so Beca sat down on one of them and Chloe settled against the timber that sustain the pier.
“You know what I mean,” Beca does, but shakes her shoulders like she doesn’t. Chloe sights, kinda smiles, but she looks sad. “We live in the same house and I barely see you around. I know you’ve been avoiding me, I just wish you’d tell me what I did wrong.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Then talk to me, Beca. What’s going on?” Chloe moved to sit next to her.
Beca made a little movement to the left in order to make room for Chloe, but the rock was wet and slippery, which had Beca slipping into the shallow water, spraying it over them both.
Then they were laughing. A real laugh that came from deep inside of Beca’s chest without the need of forcing it. Her thigh ached a bit from the impact, but she was still laughing along with Chloe when the the redhead extended her arms and pulled her up.
“Watch the rocks, little mermaid!” Amy appeared right behind Beca, her steps forming tiny waves around her bare feet. “It isn’t three in the afternoon yet and you’re already on the floor?” Amy stopped, her left hand of on her waist, shaking her head towards Chloe. “Think we gotta rush to keep up with Shortstack.”
She laughed and grabbed a beer from the plastic bag she was carrying.
The same bag that now sways almost empty in Stacie’s hand, who stops for a moment to leave it with Beca before running towards the North Beach’s sea, followed by Ashley, Jessica and Flo.
“Hey!” Beca’s scream is weak, even though she yelled as loud as her throat was able to. “I’m not staying behind!” She says, this time running after the girls, the bag swaying in her hand.
“No shirt, Deejay Bee!” Stacie screams back at her.
Beca can hear all the laughs and screams echoing around her and hesitates for minute before taking her shirt off, dropping the plastic bag and entering the water. Then, she feels Jesse’s arms lifting her up and the cold waves against her waist, wetting the hem of her shorts.
In a second, they’re all there, none of them caring with the cold water on their body or the extremely sticky mud under their feet. Everyone just enjoying the moment, living it.
There is a confusion of agitated limbs making salty water fly everywhere. There are laughs and screams that don’t form any specific word, they’re only yelled and spread to the infinite, getting lost somewhere between Heaven and Earth.
“Mug war!” Beca hears Amy’s voice above the others and then there’s wet sand flying everywhere, hitting her body and sticking on her hair.
She tries to memorize this moment. Beca’s eyes don’t focus anywhere specifically, everything is blurry due to the droplets of white foam that stops in the air for a moment only to go back where they belong. She tries to find red hair among it all, though. Finds Chloe smiling, her eyes matching the sea.
Flo screams her name, alerting her of some mug flying in her direction and Beca jumps to the side, entering the game for the first time, even though she has been in the middle of it the whole time.
The level of water they currently are doesn’t allow Beca to touch the sand without sinking, so she holds her breath and goes down. Her body floats for a minute, her eyes are closed and the world is suddenly quiet, the noise completely muffled. Beca’s fingers reach the mug and she grabs some, using her feet for impulse and then the world is loud again.
She doesn’t choose someone to throw the wet sand at, Beca only feels her arm shaking and then her hand comes back empty.
She sinks into the water again.
Silence .
She come back to the surface.
Screams .
Beca does that again and again, countless times, being followed for all of her friends.
Silence. Screams. Silence. Screams.
Silence.
It’s ironic that this same battle happens inside her mind every day, as Beca continuously tries to muffle words that only get louder with each passing day.
She thinks about it as Stacie pulls her hand, taking her out of the sea. The excitement of the moment still flows through their veins, so they run fast, and even faster when they spot an empty old swing chair.
Beca sits on the wet timber, feeling her body protest. Jesse runs to the chalet and soon returns with a guitar in hands. He sits down on the floor at her feet with the girls and Benji, blankets that weren’t there before wrapped against their shoulders and drinks in hands.
“Wanna share?” Stacie extends the blanket towards Beca. “I promise to let you out if it gets too hot.” She winks then, her giggle echoing Beca’s laugh.
The first chords of a random song are played on the guitar by Jesse. Beca doesn’t pay attention to the words everyone sings, too focused on red hair and pink lips.
Chloe is singing, but her eyes are down, focused on her own fingers that catch a handful of sand only to let it go. She looks sad, and Beca’s heart ache to know she is the reason behind it. So she looks away, distracting herself with the lines marking the timber of the swing chair.
Beca lets her fingers run through them, tracing curves and straight lines until she realizes they aren’t random. They’re names and dates, that fill all the seat’s extension and follow up through the damp timber that sustains the chain.
Her mind flies to the tourists that went there before them, sat where they’re sitting and maybe sang as they are singing. Beca wonders who the initials“E” and “M” belong to. Asks herself if they still love each other, as it’s implied by the heart that surrounds their initials. If “Hellen” who was there on July 12th, 2018 has ever felt the way Beca feels now: desperately wanting to find courage to cross a line that may change her life.
When the song is finished, someone pocks her right leg and Beca looks down to find Cynthia-Rose smiling up at her.
“You make the honors?” She throws a key on Beca’s lap, and Beca understands what she means.
Beca doesn’t ask if they want their names written there. She doesn’t question what it would mean to them, she just forces the tip of the key repeatedly times into the timber, watching as it easily gives in. She begins with her own, and when she realizes, they’re all there.
Aubrey, Amy, Stacie and Flo.
Jesse and Benji.
Lilly, Cynthia-Rose, Jessica, Ashley.
Chloe’s name is the last one.
Beca can feel the looks burning her back as she traces each letter of the name and doesn’t think twice before drawing a tiny heart, just beneath Chloe’s name.
Everyone is surprised when the first raindrops fall. The sky is clear, there are fluffy clouds everywhere and a sun ready to set. The girls, Jesse and Benji start to walk away, going back to their chalet so they can pack for their travel back to Barden. But not Chloe.
Beca watches as she walks towards the ocean and sits on the wet sand, the wild breeze blowing red curls everywhere and salty water kissing her toes. Beca does not need anyone to tell her what to do now.
She walks slowly, one foot in front of the other, confidence itself. She isn’t afraid. The rain—her longest friend—is with her. When she sits beside Chloe, Beca hears her voice, soft and somewhat wavy, “I knew you wouldn’t run this time.”
Chloe is facing the sky. Beca didn’t realize the mix of colors beautiful painting it—purple, and pink, and orange, and yellow. The clouds look so weightless Beca could float away with them if she jumped onto one. The summer rain falling against the wild ocean and exploding in tiny droplets, water finding its home. Just like Beca.
“I meant it when I said I like you,” she confesses, and resists the urge to look away when Chloe turns to face her. “I’m sorry I ran away. I was just scared.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know,” Beca shrugs, “I’m too complicated.”
But Chloe smiles like it’s okay. Like she isn’t scared. “ People are complicated, Beca. That isn’t reserved for you specifically.”
“No, I know, I just—“ she looks away now. Seeks courage in the rain, and smiles when she finds it. “I was scared I wouldn’t be enough for you. That I wouldn’t be able to love you the right way.”
“You have been loving me all this time,” the tip of Chloe’s fingers bury into the sand to find Beca’s.
Instead of answering, Beca stands, extending an arm to pull Chloe up and towards her body. The smile Chloe gives when Beca’s arms circle around her waist is a drop of hope falling into Beca’s chest, pretty much like the rain falls against their bodies.
There is no music, but they swing gently from side to side, their foreheads touching, so close they share the same air.
Chloe is right. It doesn’t matter that the actual words weren’t really there.
“Get in, you’re gonna be sick!”
“This made me think of you.”
“I thought about you when this song started.”
“Stay. Just a little more.”
“I dreamed about you.”
“Let me tie your hair back?”
“I like the blue in your eyes.”
“I like you, too.”
”I’m gonna wait for you.”
“Talk to me.”
All the silent languages they have been loving on each other, without the need to actually saying it. And when Beca takes a deep breath and moves, just a little, so that her lips can touch Chloe’s, what she feels isn’t exactly something wild and loud, but peaceful and soft.
Like a very old poetry, bringing together verses about opposite phenomenons. They don’t match, although that’s the reason why they rhyme.
Chloe turns her head to the ocean when they part, watching the barely-there sun taking the beautiful colors away with it. Beca’s forehead lands on her cheek, eyes closed, just feeling this new kind of intimacy.
“Have you ever seen it raining like that?” Chloe asks, taking Beca’s face between her hands, fingers stroking her cheekbones gently.
Beca shakes her head, “never like that,” and closes her eyes as her lips meet Chloe’s once more.
And if a single cell of her body was able to focus on anything other than the fact she’s holding Chloe in her arms, Beca would have noticed it has stopped raining.