The Color Of The Sea - Chapter One

Hello, dear readers :D
So this is a new story, hope you like it!
Please tell me in the comments, what you think of it! I'd appreciate that!
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Her P.O.V.
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When we first met I was four and he was six. He called me snotface and pulled my pig tails. I ran crying to mum. She told me, that he didn't mean it that way. He didn't know how to get along with girls, because he was just a little boy. Of course, I didn't believe her.

He was the son of mum's best friend Tracy. Tracy and mum had been friends for years, in fact, since kindergarten. So it was only natural for them, that their children would get along as well, which wasn't the case at all.

He had blonde, straw-like, hair and mischievous gray eyes. He always wore some strange patterns, his mum made him wear. Like striped trousers and dotted shirts. Horrible. He was very pale, which gave him sometimes an unhealthy look. He was taller than me, of course, and skinny as hell. That's what I could remember of him.

The next five years of my life consisted of a continuing tirade of pranks, funny names and shouting at each other. His actual name was Jaden. Every time our mothers brought us together there was a war between the two of us. We both were afraid of the other gender, and we both had our issues about being forced to play with someone by our mums.
And then mum and I moved away, because my parents got divorced. I was nine years old, he was eleven. It felt like heaven to me. We went to France, because my grandparents lived there. And there I stayed for a pretty long time, as in seven years.

His P.O.V.
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When we first met I was six and she was four. I told her that she needed to blow her nose, because she had snot all over her face and when she didn't respond I pulled her pig tails to make her realize I was talking to her. Somehow she ran crying to her mum, Julie. I looked over to mine and she told me, that girls that age didn't know how to get along with boys. Of course, I didn't believe her.

She had straight black hair, that she liked to wear as pig tails and blue eyes, that got darker, when she started to cry. She wore yellow. And only yellow. She had yellow shirts, yellow dresses, yellow pants, yellow scarfs, yellow gloves, yellow shoes, yellow bracelets, yellow backpacks, yellow everything. She had some sort of a rosy-pale skin tone and sometimes her face turned really red. For example, when she was embarrassed or angry or just because it was cold outside. She was very tiny for her age, I remember.

Julie and my mom were best friends and so the next five years of my life consisted of meeting this little awkward girl, called Kat. We played pranks against each other, invented funny names and were fighting all the time. You could call it a war. I couldn't stand this whiny, little girl and she probably couldn't stand my attitude. Not that I had anything against girls in general. I just didn't like it, that my mum forced me to play with someone, I didn't even know.

And then, when I was eleven and she was nine, they moved away. To Norway or some place. I finally got rid of this little monster. Well, I got rid of her for at least seven years.

Her P.O.V.
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I looked out of the window of the train. The rain was crashing against it, as if it was trying to break through it. It really was reflecting my current mood. Gray, depressed and heavy. The whole world looked, as if all the colors had been washed away. What a stupid day, to say goodbye to France!

I closed my eyes and immediately saw the sad faces of my friends waving and running after the train. Michelle and Paul and Antoine and Camille. I wouldn't see them for a very long time. I was going back to the U.S..

My dear father called and told my mom, that he would like to spend time with me again, because we hadn't seen each other in those seven years. And mom, happy to finally have time to spend with her new boyfriend Jean, said yes. Now I needed to live there for at least one year. I didn't want to go away. But mom didn't take no as an answer.

From the little city we lived in I needed to go to Paris by train to take the plane. Mom didn't even take the time to accompany me to the airport.
I opened my eyes and looked again outside the window. Wet bushes, trees and people passed by. Sometimes I saw a little village with their cute houses. Traffic signs and advertisement boards flew by. Everything in french, the language I loved so much, but was really hard to learn, when I got here. I finally had mastered it and now I wouldn't need it anyway.

"Bientôt, nous allons arriver á Paris!", a nasal voice announced through the speakers. Soon, we'll arrive in Paris. The scenery outside the window had changed. Now I could see the shabby apartment buildings of the outskirts of Paris. It would only take some minutes to get to the central station and from there I somehow needed to find my way to the airport. Just great!

His P.O.V.
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"Jaden, watch out, you idiot!", Mike shouted and I heard a big THUD. I did it again. I had spaced out while playing basketball and now the ball had hit my head so hard, that I tumbled to the ground.

"Ow?", I said and grinned apologizing at the other players, who had gathered around me.
"Oh, shut up, you big baby!", Mike snapped but held a hand out for me. I grabbed it and he pulled me on my feet.

"How is it, that you're the best player we have?", he asked. "Why does it need to be you? You have so little brain, that I ask myself sometimes, how you even can breathe!"
"That's not true!", I claimed but not very enthusiastically. "I'm just thinking about things and then I forget everything around me.
My teammates shook their heads but most of them grinned.

It was a beautiful day. Late fall and the leaves were shining in vibrant colors from the trees. Those were the last days warm enough to play outside, so we spent every minute that we could get on the field. Today I had thought about the sea. The deep blue, stormy sea, that I had only seen once in my life. And that time was, when my grandma died. We spread her ashes into the wind and the wind twirled the particles and then let it rain into the sea. It's not, that I haven't seen the sea often. But I usually got to see a quiet, turqoise sea, when we drove to the coast of California. I don't know why this thought had come to my mind. It was really random, but I somehow had the feeling, that this sea was special.

Her P.O.V.
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Ugh. How the Atlantic sea made me mad. It was deep blue and wild. As if it was laughing at me: "Haha, Kat, I'm free, and you're sitting trapped in this metallic can. You'll never be free!"

"Shut up!", I shouted back mentally. "I will! I'll show you, that I'll cross you again! I'll get back to France, even if it means, I need to do it alone!"
I couldn't hear the actual sound of the waves, but I was sure, that if I could, they would sound like a mocking laugh.

"Excuse me, miss? Are you okay?", a pretty stewardess asked me. "Your face looks green."
"I'm perfectly fine, thank you!", I said in my best American accent, that I could still make. This french really got into your tongue. I couldn't say "this" anymore, I said "zis". And other things too.
"Well, okay, just push the button, if you need any help.", she said and smiled broadly, showing me her perfect white teeth.
"Yeah, I will.", I said grumpily. And went to sleep. I had a 17 hours flight. Damn it!

When I woke up, it was already getting bright in the horizon. The sun sent out millions of colors, and finally I could see some light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe the weather in California would at least be better than in France.

"Dear passengers, please fasten your seat belts, stow your tray tables and make sure your seat is in its upright and locked position. We're landing in fifteen minutes. Thank you.", a voice said and I wondered, how I could have slept the whole flight away. Well, that was something good at least.

When we landed I felt some sort of an end to my previous life. I needed to concentrate on something else, so that my tears wouldn't come. I took my two suitcases from the baggage conveyor and stepped out into the cold morning sun.

His P.O.V.
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My phone rang too early in the morning. At least too early for a Sunday.
"Dude, have you seen the hot chick, that moved in with Mr. Fray this morning?", Mike shouted into my ear. "She's totally a hottie."
"Mike, stop talking like that about girls, you know, that they don't like it!", I said sleepy blinking into the sun.

"Yeah, but they can't here me now, right?", he argued. "But that's not the point! What do you think she is?"
"Huh?"
"I mean, is she his new girlfriend or something, because for that she's way too young, she's more like sixteen!", he went on. "But it could be a secret relationship, right? He's not that old, he's not even 45! Maybe..."
"Mike, shut up, you're giving me a headache!", I complained. "How old did you say is she?"

"I dunno. Think, sixteen.", he answered. "But don't you think, that it's interesting? Finally something happens in our street. Because, when you see Kyle, he can always tell you about..."
"Mike, she's his daughter.", I heard Mike's sister, Eileen, in the background. "Stop making a fool out of yourself.
"Oh, man, and I thought something interesting was happening.", Mike said disappointed, but I had stopped listening.

His "daughter"? Wait, wasn't that...wasn't that this yellow girl? Good times...