The Last 30 Days [Inactive]

Blake stayed under for a few more seconds, reaching out and tickling Isabelle's stomach. Once all his air was gone from his lungs he stood back up, smiling down at Isabelle. He looked into her eyes and for a few seconds he got lost in them, thinking about the spilt coffee and the first phone call and every moment from then to here.
 
Dark now, Isabelle gathered pieces of driftwood half buried in the snow and set up a pyramid of misshapen and bleached sticks. She didn't have anything to light it with, something she hadn't thought of. Smaller snapped twigs lay in a pile beneath the pyramid if anything would catch, and she looked to Blake hopefully.


"Got a lighter with you by any chance?" Back in a large hoodie and jeans, it helped to fend off the coming cold from the ocean spray. She was uncharacteristically cold though, and couldn't wait for the fire to start.
 
"You're in luck," he said, jogging to the truck. He opened the dashboard and rummaged inside until he found an orange lighter. He slammed the truck doors shut and jogged back to Isabelle. He handed her the lighter, shoving one of his hands into the pocket of his sweatpants. "This'll be a great bonfire. Did you know that in the UK on Guy Fawkes Night everyone lights huge bonfires?"
 
"No, I didn't!" She exclaimed. It sounded fun, honestly. This small fire would have to do for now, though. They didn't have the resources to have a large fire.


Isabelle did her best to ignite some paper she'd crammed under the twigs, blowing softly until the pile had burst into flames. Proud of her handiwork, she handed the orange lighter back to Blake and continued to tend to the fire. She sat back, sitting cross legged in the sand, and stretched her hands out to bask in the warmth.
 
After shoving the lighter into his pocket along with his other hand, Blake sat down cross legged next to Isabelle so their knees touched. There were two layers of clothing between the contact which seemed like a lot after nearly a whole day of skin to skin.


"When I was young," started Blake, staring deeply into the fire, "my mother enrolled me in Boy Scouts. I could recite all the rules and the creeds and I knew a whole lot more about the history than all the other boys but could I pitch a tent? Or make a fire? No."
 
"You're smart though." Isabelle responded, drawing meaningless shapes in the sand in front of her legs. "I'm sure you could do it now if you tried, you just need practice."


The fire brought a pleasant warmth to her chilled body. Unnaturally cold, and her head was starting to hurt again. She hoped it would go away quickly. No problems this weekend, she had to tell herself. None.


"I don't think I was ever allowed to go near fire." Isabelle pondered, eyebrows close together as she recalled memories from her childhood. "Never went camping, no bonfires, nothing. My first s'more was made in a microwave. It probably sounds odd, doesn't it?"
 
Blake cocked his head to the side while he pondered this. His mind processed it quickly then reprocessed it again, getting deeper into the details. Sometimes when thinking he'd stop to spell a long or difficult word, he did it subconsciously and it was very annoying. He thought like this all the time and sometimes it was a really quick, other times it took a long time. It depended on how complex the thought was and how easy it was to pick it apart. His current thought was simple and it only took a few seconds.


"Have your parents ever had a bad experience with fire? Burnt down a house or know someone who's been burnt or something?" he asked, turning his head to make eye contact with the girl. "Maybe they were worried you'd get hurt." After another second of thought he added, "Your parents really sheltered you a lot."
 
Isabelle smiled and glanced towards Blake, well knowing what made them shelter her so much. "I was really sick as a child." She said quietly, still smiling though. Isabelle wasn't bothered by the fact, it only served to explain her parents odd behavior.


"My mom doesn't talk about it, but my dad told me I used to have an older sister, too. It was a miscarriage." Isabelle explained. "Then when I came along, I was really frail, constantly getting sick. So, that might explain why they kept me inside. They didn't want to lose me, too."
 
Blake huffed out a breath and nodded, now staring into the fire. What a shame, he thought, all that time keeping a close eye on their daughter and now they were probably going to lose her any ways. "Being sheltered so much though could also have it's downsides. Agoraphobia, for example. You know what that is right? And eventually they wouldn't have been able to shelter you and the real world would hit you all at once, which could be shocking and possibly dangerous if you didn't know how to handle yourself." He stopped talked, realizing how much he was rambling. He shrugged and cracked a smile, "It's also pretty boring."
 
"Isn't that a fear of going outside? It sounds familiar." Isabelle pondered, her eyes fixed on Blake now. She only meant to offer an explanation, hoping he didn't think it too strange. After all, she was talking about some pretty awful things. However, Isabelle disagreed on one point. "I don't know. I think I can handle myself pretty well thought. And I mean, so far I think I've had a good time. After all, I got to meet you, so that was nice."


She smiled and laughed quietly. "Sorry, I sound pretty silly don't I?"
 
For a moment Blake felt like a teacher needing to hand out stickers for good work and it made him laugh. "You don't sound silly," he told her, "it didn't happen, but it could have. I also don't think that you were sheltered enough for it to be dangerous or harmful. I knew this one girl who was sheltered so much that she didn't even know what sex was and she got pregnant at the age of 15."
 
"That's just." Isabelle shook her head. "Unbelievable, how could she not know?"


The girl was glad he had lightened the mood some. She didn't want to talk about when she was a child for much longer. It was an odd time for her, with few good memories, few memories overall at that.


"It's so weird though, going from sheltered, to this." Isabelle held out her hands, grasping at the moment as if it were a tangible object. "It's amazing, don't you think?"
 
((Ok I have a funny story for you. First of all, do you know what a fractal is? If not, look it up. Any ways, my school is now doing election and there's campaign posters every where. One of them has a picture of a fractal and it says: This is a fractal. Nick Belliveau thinks fractals are pretty incredible. That's it, that's all it says other than (in very small print) Vote Nick Belliveau for communication's rep.))


"Your welcome," he said jokingly, laying back in the gritty sand. He looked up and added with fake cockiness, "Spilt coffee was your gateway to life." He took one of her hands and held it in his, his other one resting on his stomach. It rose and fell to his slow breaths. "And it's pretty great, isnt it?"
 
((Oh my god, that's hilarious))


"Who knew." She laughed and took his hand, playing with their fingers interlocked together. These were the things she was glad not to miss out on, such fragile moments where even a touch of the hand was special.


"Life is wonderful." Isabelle said, a little too dryly. After all, hers would be cut short.
 
((In case you were curious, I'm voting for him))


Blake repressed a sigh, grimacing up at the darkening navy blue sky. Anything having to do with life or death was strictly off limits but yet without meaning too the topic always came up. He tried to change the subject, "I wonder if there's a Chinese restaurant around here." There was a town nearby, a thirty minute drive maybe less. "I'm not really hungry but I can always eat Chinese."
 
((I approve))


"Yeah?" Isabelle wondered along with him. "I bet there is, Chinese is always good, isn't it?"


She couldn't help but notice he'd been trying his best to get her not to talk about things which came too close to death. Isabelle understood how frightening it could be to lose someone you loved, but he had to face the facts someday. They were staring him right in the face. Just as she'd been saying all weekend though, it could wait.
 
"Would you like some Chinese food? If not, there's still some stuff in the coolers. Are you even hungry?" The three sentences came out quick as though he couldn't wait for the words to spill out of his mouth, a second to breath a pause would be a disaster. He did this without realizing it, subconsciously thinking that the quicker he talked the quicker they'd get the life and death thoughts out of their heads.


Now he started over, slowly, "I'm down for Chinese, are you down for Chinese?"
 
Isabelle wasn't really hungry, even though she hadn't eaten a single thing that day. As much as she wanted to say so, she lied and accepted the offer. It might do some good for her to try to eat anyways.


"Sure, that sounds good." Isabelle smiled halfheartedly. "Are we driving into town then? I doubt they'll deliver to the beach."
 
Blake smiled and started to stand up. They couldn't leave the beach without letting the fire die out, it would be a fire hazard but they had worked hard on gathering the wood and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. Isabelle did however have a point, they might not deliver here. Still, he pulled out his phone and dialed 411 and asked for the nearest Chinese restaurant. They wouldn't deliver.


"I guess we're gonna have to stomp out the fire, get the food and then come back and make another one if you're up for it. That or we just forget the Chinese food."
 
"No, that's alright." Isabelle gave one last good look to the fire, the driftwood had made some of the flames another color entirely. It was something she'd only heard about from friends, but at least she'd get to see it once. She poked at the pyramid they'd made until the largest of the logs fell over, smothering the largest of the flames.


"I got to see it, and we can always make another one." The girl smiled as she kicked some sand towards the flame, hoping to extinguish them further. It was still a shame though. Now she was cold again with the coming night. "Tomorrow. Still one day left."
 
"Alright, well," he said, shaking sand from his pants. Even if there wasn't anything on his clothing he still felt like there was and he shook out his shirt for longer than needed. "Let's get going. We can figure out what we want there." Blake quickly slipped on some shoes and put what they had out back into the truck.
 
Back on the road, Isabelle placed her head against the window glass. All of the streets looked similar, lined by tall trees, winding in, out, and around to wherever town was, she'd forgotten. When it was in view, she lifted her head from the glass and sat normally, hands in her lap.


"Chinese." She mumbled. "So cheap, so tasty."
 
"It's cheap once in a while," he said, glancing at Isabelle out of the corner of his eye. "But I don't have a job and I could eat this stuff for the rest of my life." He pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car and they walked hand in hand into the restaurant. It wasn't a big building, the town itself wasn't big either. There were only a few tables taken on the left and on the right, an old Chinese woman stood behind the counter. She looked up from the local paper and smiled. Blake took a take out menu and looked it over with Isabelle.
 
After some contemplation, Isabelle was sure she wouldn't be able to eat a full meal by herself. Her eyes were drawn back to an appetizer of egg rolls. But, after eyeing Blake one more time, she felt unsure again. Would he worry about her? He'd probably done enough of that. Still, she ordered them anyways.


"I'm still thinking." She half lied.
 
"Take all the time you need. But if you're not hungry, no need to order a bunch of food," he reminded her patiently, handing back his menu. He ordered and as the old woman wrote it down he watched Isabelle. He knew she probably wasn't all that hungry, her appetite was rarely there.
 
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