Whispered Voices

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was hot. Hot as only August in Florida can be. But it wasn't only the weather that was hot, so was the topic of conversation. The one I was having with the hot guy sitting next to me on the beach. I’d been in love with him since high school, but he didn't know it; I settled for being his best friend. I suffered through the current conversation, while he bemoaned the rockiness of his newest love affair.

But being the best friend that I am, I commiserated with him, trying to help him out as best as I could. He didn’t have a clue about how I felt, and I would have been mortified if he ever found out. Somehow, I’m sure that little tidbit of news would ruin the most important friendship I had.

Peter and I have known each other most of our lives, but not until our high school years did we became fast friends. Our friendship began when I beat him in a cross-country race. After that, we started training together and competing together and through the sweat and tears, we formed a bond that lasted through the years. I’m always “Mac” to him. Not Mackenzie, my real name, which I think is much more regal and noteworthy, but just Mac. I don’t know if he even noticed I’ve grown into an attractive woman since I was just his buddy, and that was enough for both of us. Until I left home to go away to college, that is. Only then did I realize how important he was to me. They say that absence make the heart grow fonder but my heart about broke with the emptiness of his absence. Oh, I tried dating. I even made some good friends, but none compared to Peter. I was thankful and relieved when, after six long years, I graduated and came back home to take my place in the family business.

But Peter had moved on, and he was dating a string of girls that made my head spin. I told myself that if he kept changing dates, it meant he wasn’t getting serious about them, and I still stood a chance. Someday, I reasoned, by some miracle, he would wake up and see me for the woman I had become. Of course, it would take a miracle, because fear of rocking the boat kept me from taking a stand and proclaiming my love for him.

So today we sat on the beach, in our favorite spot, and I listened to him complain about the failure of yet another date.

“I don’t get it, Mac. I mean this girl is gorgeous, smart, and looking for a long-term relationship. All the things a guy would want, but there was just no spark. It was like we were going through the motions. I took her to a movie and we went to a nice restaurant, yet I knew half way through the meal it wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Well, what movie did you go to? A nice romantic-”

“Of course not. We watched the newest Avenger movie. You would have loved it Mac.”

I laughed out loud. Sometimes Peter didn’t have a clue. I mean, what girl wants to go to an action movie on their first date. Most girls would want a little romance, a little wooing. Myself included.

“Peter, you can’t treat the girls you're dating like one of the guys. They want, and deserve, to feel special.”

I tossed the sand I had been shifting through my fingers in his direction and he had the grace to look embarrassed. Shrugging his shoulders, Peter admitted that I was right. Putting his hands behind his head, he stretched out on the warm sand and sighed, closing his eyes. I think he knew he had blown it with this girl. I mentally gave a cheer. Deciding that he needed a little time to think, I got to my feet. Grabbing my straw hat, I turned and started walking down the beach, searching the sand for the elusive blues and greens of the sea-glass.

I passed two old fishermen, heading to the boardwalk and the beach’s exit. We knew each other from years of sharing the same beach, and exchanged a friendly hello. Now, it seemed I had the beach to myself. I guess no one else wanted to swelter in the ninety-degree heat, not when they could be cooling off inside, where there’s air conditioning. The heat didn’t bother me, I was used to it. A nice breeze blew enough to dry the sweat off, and if it got too bad, I figured I could always jump into the ocean waves to cool myself off. The beach to myself, the sun and breeze and crashing waves of the Atlantic, was my idea of paradise.

I must have walked farther than I realized, because when I looked around me next, I couldn’t even see Peter. The wind had picked up and I put both hands on my head to keep it from blowing away.

I wasn’t nervous about walking the sands on my own, but something made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. There was still no one else at the strip of beach with me, but the air had changed. There was a static to it that tried to warn me, but I didn’t notice the warning until it was too late. The static became supercharged and a flash of light like I’d never seen before in my life, blinded me. Everything suddenly went black.