Folding Chair

Come and open up your folding chair next to me
My feet are buried in the sand and there's a breeze
There's a shadow you can't see my eyes
And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies

The lyrics distinctly resonated in his head as soon as Chase stepped on the beach. In his hand, there was--what else?-- a folding chair, gripped tightly. It was a perfectly sunny, clear day, with a stiff breeze wafting by nonchalantly. He walked out to about the middle of the beach and pulled the bar on the chair, sitting it in the sand before settling down on it. He grabbed a drink, a towel, and kicked off his shoes. He flicked the lid of the can off with his thumb, and took a sip, before looking out at the ocean. Frowning slightly, he stretched his arms out.

Now I've been sitting on this abandoned beach for years
Waiting for the salty water to cover up my ears
But every time the tide comes in to take me home
I get scared and I'm just sitting here alone

The day was clear and pleasant making Dylan flourish. She was optimistic and simple things like the weather made her feel like she was as light as a feather drifting through a deep sea of clouds. Some guy she never met before was on the beach; it wasn't uncommon for her not to know anyone here, afterall she just moved here not that long ago. She was pondering the idea of saying something to him, but then what would she say. Naturally she was horrible at getting up the courage to talk to someone and would often do something idiotic in the process of saying a simple, 'Hello.' Quickly she found herself pacing around in circles trying to think how she was going to greet this stranger, then it happened. She was turning and she steped weirdly on her right foot making her leg still want to move and her foot wanting to stop. It ended with Dylan falling on the soft said making her go, "Ompf." Face in the sand and her neatly put up hair all messed up.

The stillness of the beach was all of a sudden interrupted by a thud behind him. The sound startled him, and Chase jumped up, fists balled up in an automatically defensive response. When he saw that there was a girl, face-down in the sand, he unclenched his fists and jogged over to her. "You okay?" he called, kneeling down next to her and helping her off of the sand. The face was unfamiliar to him; maybe because the feminine features were dusted in a coat of sand and turned down in a grimace.

Dylan felt the blood rushing to her forehead; her face felt a few degrees warmer due to her embarrassing herself again. The sand was irritating to her face so she had trouble seeing the person who helped her up. It sounded like a guy though by the tone of his voice. She dusted off her face and rubbed her eyes getting the sand out of them. Her vision was still a little burred, but she could make out the more noticeable features of the guy; he had black hair, kind of long for a guy to be honest, and green eyes. "I'm okay," she said still rubbing her eyes a bit trying to get the sand out. "Sorry for making you get up from sitting in such an unusual manner."

"It's not a problem," Chase said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. The very ends of his hair were sticking to his sweaty neck, just like it always did when it was hot outside. Even though it was Fall, the temperature was still fairly high. It was a nice day for the beach, providing you were actually dressed in appropriate clothing. Chase, of course, was not. He was dressed in jean shorts that reached below his knees and a black tee shirt, because he hadn't planned on actually swimming.

He sat back, and got a better look at the girl. She had light brown hair, that looked like it had been carefully arranged before her fall, and now it was falling out of its' clip and had sand sprinkled throughout. Suddenly, he recognized who she was. "Oh! You're Dylan, right?"

Dylan was removing her clip out of her hair when the guy suddenly said, 'Oh! You're Dylan, right?' He must have met her, but she couldn't think of who he was. Then the sand had cleared out of her eyes and she could see normally again. It was her boss Mr. Hawthorne, she felt stupid for not reconizing his voice right away. She usually was really good with that kind of thing. "Yeah. You must be Mr. Hawthorne then." She didn't want to admit he was the only guy she had met here, so she hoped he wouldn't wonder why she knew who he was.

Quickly, Chase held his hands up. "Mr. Hawthorne...ugh. That's my father," he grinned. "I'm Chase. Just Chase." He stood up, waiting to make sure Dylan could do the same, before walking back up to his chair. He reached into a bag and pulled out a water bottle, and offered it out to the girl. "How long have you been in town?" He asked, taking a sip of his own drink. He wiped a bead of sweat off of his forehead with his forearm as he talked, and exhaled sharply.

'Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!' Dylan told herself over and over in her mind. Just cause he is her boss doesn't mean she has to be really polite and call him by his last name. She stood up right after Chase did almost automaticly, like she was told to almost. She scolded herslef again this time cause she knew she could stand up and didn't have to be polite in her actions too. She took a deep breath in attempt to calm down. She couldn't help to notice that Chase was casual to her even though he was her boss witch confused her. He offered her some water and she took it saying, "Thanks. I haven't been here long, only about five days. How about you?"

Chase shrugged his shoulders noncommitally. "Eh. About a few weeks. Maybe four? A season, maybe?" He frowned as he thought about it. "It's been crazy, honestly. I've been mostly tying up loose ends around the store, getting everything settled. I've been around food my entire life, and I wanted to settle down my store before settling down myself." He chuckled. "

Dylan felt like she kind of knew what he ment, but then again she was trying to get her home ready though, not a store. Life was crazy though, it always was and this heat wasn't really helping that much too. She felt sweat run along her back and she began to wonder why she was still standing. She sat on the sand holding the cold water bottle in her hands. "I'm still waiting for my house to be completed." Dylan couldn't think of what to say. She was never good at talking to others. "You've done a good job with your store so far."