This is the first chapter of a multi-part story. Hope you enjoy.
~Mireille
*****
BECOMING GEM
Chapter 1: Confidence
The sky glowed pink and orange above the horizon, where the dark water met the sky and the sun had sunk nearly fifteen minutes before. The fiery sky reflected on the shiny black bay, giving an appearance of liquid gold, rippling while the wind blew across the water. Gentle waves crashed to the shore a short distance from where I walked in the dry sand. It was such a beautiful sight that you would think it would uplift the souls of those who witnessed it. Yet, my mood was melancholy and anyone who could see auras would surely say mine was gray.
I sighed deeply, kicking at the dry sand that was sifting through my toes while I walked barefoot on the beach. Behind me, I could hear the laughter from the partygoers in the distance while they celebrated the end of summer before many of us went off to college for the first time. In fact, the next day, my journey would begin. Just a seven-hour car ride to the university I had chosen.
I wasn't sure why I'd let my friend Sarah talk me into coming to the party. It's not that I was anti-social. I just wasn't one of
those
people. All the girls in their bikinis with their beach-babe, shiny, wavy hair, and the guys with their shirts off and their rippled muscles.
Then there was me... the chubby girl with unruly light-auburn hair that frizzed in the humidity. I didn't fit in, wearing my cutoff jeans and baggy shirt to hide my paunchy belly. My hair was pulled back, and I'm pretty sure I looked like a Pomeranian who'd been shocked by lightning. Not to mention that the sun was down, the bonfire was lit, and most of my former classmates were pairing off. Let the making-out, groping, and who-knows-what-else begin. *sigh*
I wanted to get out of there before it became glaringly obvious that I was a 3
rd
wheel, but Sarah had driven, so I wasn't sure how to
get the hell out of dodge
without making her leave, too. She was
clearly
having a good time, I noted, watching her fling her arms around Mark, the guy she'd been dying to kiss all year. I sat down on a piece of driftwood, probably 200 yards from the bonfire, bitterly watching the giggling and chasing foreplay of my peers.
Glancing around, I realized I was searching for one person in particular. Josh. He'd been one of my best friends since grade school, and he lived only a few houses down the street from me. My stomach flip-flopped when my eyes landed on him. He was standing toward the outside of the large group with a few of the guys, joking and laughing. His light blue cotton shirt hung open to reveal his subtly defined abs and he dragged his fingers through his hair in that sexy gesture that came natural to him.
My stomach flipped again.
Damn it!
I have tried over and over again to talk myself out of liking him. But no matter how many times I told myself to forget about it, he still had that damned effect on me.
We were friends. It was silly to think he would ever see me as anything more. He kidded with me like I was one of the guys. And let's face it...he would never be with
me
when so many other girls were always chasing him. He had a perpetual girlfriend. Whenever one relationship ended, there was always another girl there to pick up the pieces.
The trouble was that I could never get away from him long enough to squash my feelings for him. We were often at each other's houses either studying or watching movies on the weekend, and every time we were together, it just fueled those feelings.
My stomach clenched and my heart pounded just at the sight of him, and worse yet, the flush that would crawl across my cheeks and up my ears. With my pale alabaster skin, it was impossible not to notice it. Oh, the number of times I have been asked if I didn't feel well. *insert eye roll*
Let's not forget when I could
smell
him... It was a mixture of sandalwood and spice, mixed with, well... I can't explain it. It was just—
him
. His unique essence. Well, let's just say that
other
things happened to me.
Anyway...
While I was admiring him from afar, he turned my way, tilted his head, smiled, and put his hand up in a wave. Where was a rock I could crawl under? I mean, was it that obvious that I was staring at him?!
My lord.
Just then, a blonde, beach-babe from our graduating class,
Shelley
—I think, grabbed hold of Josh's upper arm from behind and whirled herself around to his front, pressing her scantily clad breasts into his chest. He raised his own hand to rest on her upper arm, smiling warmly at her, and then, she grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him.
I promptly looked away when my cheeks flamed and a feeling of nausea washed over me. I had no right to be jealous—angry, yet I was.
My eyes glossing over with tears, I got up off the driftwood log and continued walking farther away from the bonfire while a few tears leaked down my cheeks. I was feeling sorry for myself.
Again.
And I admit—wishing I was her. In that moment, I felt something inside me snap.
Ya know what? I'd had enough. Enough feeling sorry for myself, wallowing in self-pity. Enough of not liking who I saw in the mirror. Enough of the self-loathing. That moment, I felt fury in my gut. And while I stood there on the beach that night, I vowed to myself that I was going to change.
My thoughts were interrupted by a familiar, silky voice calling my name from behind me.
"Gem!"
My full name is Gemima, which was what all my teachers called me. My mom and most of my friends called me Mimi, which made me feel like a little kid. But Josh had always called me Gem, and I rather liked it.
I glanced back to see Josh trotting toward me, the light from the bonfire creating a glow on the golden tips of his sandy-blond hair while he approached me in the twilight. As usual, my heart was slamming in my chest and my stomach felt like a fish out of water was flapping around in there. I quickly turned away, hastily rubbing at my face to wipe away the evidence of my tears, and putting my hands down just when Josh arrived at my side and fell in step with my slow gait.
"Hey," he offered cheerfully, with slightly labored breathing from his short jog.