COLLEGE DAZE
Chapter 3
I go home early. The day has been a long one, full of unexpected events and I am tired after being awake for nearly 36 hours.
Standing in the kitchen with the door to the fridge open, I blankly stare at the contents as I ponder whether to eat at home or take something down to the beach while I watch the sun set on this glorious Southern California day. I absentmindedly grab a beer, deciding to decide what to do for dinner later. I walk across the room and stare out the window. The view still takes my breath away. Mission Beach is about four miles away, with the wide open water to the right and the city abutting on the left. Splashes of color dot the beach, locals and tourists enjoying the pleasant evening. The lights are on already along the pier jutting out into the bay, an attempt to draw the tourists and their cash.
The bell connected to the call button at the gate rings. 'Damn,' I mutter to myself. No one knows where I live and the only time anyone shows up to the gate it is usually someone lost or thinking someone famous lives in this 14,000 square foot mansion perched on a five acre bluff next to the beach. My uncle, who owns the house, jokes it is 300 feet to the beach, straight down. The only other people who ring at the gate are people who are interested in buying the property. My uncle has it listed for untold millions and I am lucky that I can stay here, otherwise I would be stuck in the dorms. But then again, I take care of the place in exchange for living here and occasionally showing it off to prospective buyers.
I glance at the monitor. An older sedan of some sorts. Too plain for a prospective buyer, so it is probably a tourist. Adjusting the camera, I zoom in on the driver's window as I say, 'Yes,' into the mic.
It's her. It's Amber. She is looking at the speaker box not the camera. 'Uh, hi,' she stammers.
Adrenaline courses through my veins. Excitement wells up in me. I cannot remember being like this at the sight of a woman. I strain to keep my voice calm. 'Miss Colton, good evening,' I manage to get out.
'How?' She says, looking around.
'Camera, on the fence post.' I state.
'Oh,' I hear her amazement. A pause. Her mouth opens to say something. Another pause. 'You asked if I wanted to talk,' she states, clearly not having expected to have a discussion with a speaker box.
I am about to reply when she adds, 'I brought Chinese,' holding up a plastic take-out bag. I punch the open gate button.
Striving from the kitchen, I toss the beer can at the recycle bin. It rims in. I cross the second-story bridge over the swimming pool to the front door. The house is Mediterranean style. All rooms open onto the central courtyard. The rooms on the second floor are connected by a covered walkway of which the bridge is a part.
Very few rooms interconnected internally instead connecting together outside with the courtyard. The front door is more of an Iron Portico, whereas there isn't an inside per say, only an entrance to the courtyard.
I meet her car in the looped driveway abutting the front door under the porte cochere. I open the car door and she hands me the food casually. She stands and stares, her mouth agape in awe as she takes in the place.
'I really didn't look around much this morning,' she says. 'I left and didn't look back. I think I was still a little drunk. I wasn't sure if I could find my way back.'
I listen to her drone on nervously, surprised at the monolog, but that is clearly a better response than this afternoon in class.
'Come on, let's go have some dinner,' I say. Bumping the bag into her backside, I continue, 'I will show you around later.'