Lonely Solitude [Open]

[Jessica Pruitte]

Nevermind that it was nearly freezing outside and the only people who’d be out so late were out of their mind. Nevermind, that Jessica had better things to do (homework, avoiding trouble). Nevermind that the sand felt like ice beneath her as she lay staring at the stars with the crescendo of waves only a few feet away. The beach was hers.

All. Hers.

There were no idiots burning down houses. Offering her moronic things in exchange for her “peace”. There were no giggling bubble-gum blondes playing volleyball or acting as though they were gods gift (nevermind how much of that ‘gift’ was bought with plastic to create… plastic.) She was alone. Blissfully alone to her thoughts.

She’d finally found a furnished apartment and managed to con her way into it. It was amazing what a person could do with a computer, an assumed identity, and a bank account. The beauty of the electronic world was that no one had to see her face. The IP address changed every time she walked a block, and thus allowed her the access to do just about anything she wanted. Even if she’d had to get a NEW laptop, thanks to the whole fire thing. But things were finally starting to get back to normal for her.

Now if only the fire department and cops would leave her alone about the whole thing. That wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon, so she’d just have to keep playing it as cool as she knew how. And hope like hell no one caught on to her ruse.

The waves licked the sand of the California shoreline, bringing with it another icy, salty spray.

Damn it was cold.

Worth it, but cold. The blanket Jess had wrapped herself in was doing a moderate job of keeping her from freezing solid on the sand, but she was willing to pay that price for the few moments of uninterrupted solitude.

A solitude she both loved and hated.

It was a lonely existence being her. All of her. Every name she’d taken on, every place she’d dared to call “home” for a brief while had been taken away. Running was getting old. But Jess didn’t know what else to do. Or even how. She'd lived this particular style of life for so long now that it seemed impossible to change.

But she wanted people to be close with (even if she didn't trust them, but the distrust came from not wanting anyone to know... because if they knew she'd be sent back. She was old enough to be tried as an adult in many states and she HAD broken the law. No two ways about it.) She wanted to have friends. To just BE.

Was she jealous of everyone she saw? Yes and no. They had a freedom she didn't, but at the same time she had a freedom they didn't.

Catch 22.

[felipe]

Felipe had escape alone for a change, Ana Izabel currently glued to the TV set in the living room. "Just for a walk," he assured his parents. Rufio was snoozing in the corner of the kitchen and so he didn't even have the dog for company.

"Be back before 10, Felipe,"

"That's early," he pointed out. "I'm not a kid anymore, you know," he added with a grin.

"10.30."

"11.00?" he tried hopefully.

"Very well. No later," his father stated and Felipe nodded in agreement before heading out, grabbing his jacket as he went.

It was chilly this evening. Far cooler than nights back in São Paulo but then, he'd expected them to be. He snuggled deeper into his jacket and flicked up its collar as he headed towards teh sea front. The beach was deserted - hardly a surprise given the temperature... well, virtually deserted. Further along he could just make out a figure... One wrapped in what looked to be a blanket.

He veered towards the person, hands thrust deep into his jacket pockets in a vain attempt to alleviate at least some of the cold.

"A wise decision," he stated. "The blanket." He glanced out to sea. "It is very beautiful," he added in a soft voice. "Peaceful..." At least, it probbaly HAD been... Right up until he'd disturbed her.

[Jessica Pruitte]

The teen was so lost in her own thoughts and melancholy that she failed to hear the subtle sound of the shifting sand (not that she would have heard it anyway over the sound of the tide coming in.) So when the accented voice spoke up from behind and a little to her side Jessica’s whole body tensed for a fight. Her shoulders shot up around her neck, her grip on the blanket became firmer, and her leg muscles bunched ready to spring her to her feet.

Looking up and around at the youth who’d dared to trespass into her thoughts and sanctum (nevermind that it was public beach and anyone could wander along it if they chose.) The moon was just bright enough to allow her a semi decent look at the fellow and she groaned inwardly. He was handsome, sure, but he was the sort of handsome that had a flock of girls following him where ever he went with no regard to how moronic they looked. Like a pack of gulls chasing after someone who had a bag full of breadcrumbs.

But there were no girls behind him. No giggling babble, no sighs, nor swoons. It was still quiet.

Hadn’t she just been wishing she could have more people around to talk to? Hadn’t there been a particularly bright star (planet really, but she wasn’t going to nit-pick) that she’d focused on when she wanted friends she could trust, who wouldn’t begrudge her the life she’d chosen?

HA! What sort of fairytale did she think she was living in? Really? Wishes didn’t come true, there was no actual science behind them. They were wasted thoughts.

Even so…

“Yeah,” she answered. “It is peaceful.” The waves crashed in front of them filling the silence that would otherwise have been there.

Jessica was both relieved that she wasn’t alone anymore, but felt even more alone than she had a moment previously. This was a stranger. Someone she didn’t know. At all. She didn’t know what to say to him, how to ask him to sit down and stay a while.

“I like how the foam shines in the moon light,” lame. God, she could just kick herself for the most idiotic phrase ever. Closing her eye against the sight of him, Jess turned her face back to the water, then tilted her head up to the stars. How many of them were actually gone now? Their light a distant reminder of what once was, only to fade away as the light years passed by?

Well it was better than asking him where he was from for an opener, she supposed.

[felipe]

Felipe looked out across the sea as the girl answered him, seeing as she seemed to do. The foam DID glow with an ethereal beauty and one that he hadn't really notice - appreciated? - before. He glanced back down at the girl in appreciation. "You are a poet," he stated. "A writer, at the very least... am I right?" If she denied it then she was lying - either to him or to herself as she HAD to have poetic blood flowing through her veins.

Felipe tilted his head a little to one side, carefully considering his next words. Not only was he fighting his grasp of English (which, he had to admit, was pretty perfect) but he wasn't all that sure of how to proceed in a polite manner.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" he asked. "I am new to town today and know no-one. Its far too glorious an evening for you to be so cruel as to send me on my way and back home to my solitude..." He shot her a wry smile. "I hope I am right in that!"

He reached a hand towards the blanket-encased girl. "I am Felipe," he said, perhaps a tad belatedly. "Felipe Vila Nova... and I count myself lucky to have stumbled across such a romantic on what I thought to be a deserted stretch of sand."

[Jessica Pruitte]

If there was a god, he was cruel. Dangling the bit of friendship offered in front of her with such clarity, such trust. Fighting against her trained instincts to bat his hand away and demand to know who he thought he was, Jessica instead took his hand and gave it a firm, but not too firm, shake.

“Jessica,” she offered, declining to give her last name at first. Pruitte wasn’t all that common, at least up in the States, but it had Spanish roots, or was it Italian, she didn’t know and didn’t care. “Pruitte,” the last name was given after a pause. Perhaps she should have used one of her aliases, but then again, she was using her given name at school and no one had caught on yet.

“I suppose you could call me a writer,” of sorts. A writer of lies, of myths. Creating a new person with each move. This was the first time she’d allowed herself to be Jessica Pruitte since leaving home. Dangerous, stupid, but she was tired of the running. Of the hiding. “And you’re welcome to join me.” Stopping just short of adding ‘if you like’ to the end of that, Jess peeled back a corner of the blanket.

NO! What was she doing? Actually offering extra warmth to the fellow? Who was this girl? Had lonliness truly gripped her so fiercely that she was going to allow someone close enough to touch her? Someone not Ari? Too late now, the offer had been made.

The night, the ocean, the timing was pulling honesty from her and throwing all of her usual caution to the wind. She WANTED someone to talk to. Wanted someone to share her secrets with. Someone, not the wind.

“Welcome to California,” Jess added belatedly. “Hope it doesn’t disappoint you.”

[felipe]

"Obrigada," he replied as he sat on her blanket and accepted the invitation. "It is indeed a chilly evening. So far I like what I've seen in California but then I have only been here for a few hours." During that time he'd already met two people... Shane firstly and now Jessica. His time had been very well spent. " It is very different to Brazil but that's not necessarily a bad thing. There's a lot more space and places to think. Back in São Paulo where I'm from it was almost impossible to find places like this. Places where you can breath without nudging someone else in their back."

He drew in a deep breath of salt-laden sea air. The chill beneath it was also welcome as Brazilian nights tended to take on a more muggy feel. He didn't miss that part but was glad to be able to share the girl's blanket.

He turned to look at her more closely. "So... Jessica... you write? Please tell me its poetry as you have the needed look of a tormented soul," he added with a half smile. He was teasing her, of course, but the fact remained that she did possess an aura of anguish but then he had just interrupted her contemplations.

[Jessica Pruitte]

“I -” she started the shut her mouth with an audible clack of her teeth. How much to say? “I write people more than poetry.” It was accurate enough. “I create characters,” and become them was the unspoken second half of the statement.

I build lives, hack into the DMV, use the social security code of a child who died the right number of years ago and go from there. The government uses the same procedure when placing people in witness protection. All of this went unsaid, though it was there on the tip of the teens tongue, waiting for the opportune moment. She was a thief. Albeit a modern one, but a thief and a liar still.

“Do I really look all that tortured?” asked she running a hand across her face in a hope to erase whatever it was he saw. She was vulnerable in that moment. And likely for the remainder of the night. Vulnerable in a way that she never wanted, nor had expected to be.

“No, don’t answer that, please. Instead tell me more about Brazil. I’ve never been outside the country…” though perhaps she should go. “Perhaps you write yourself? Poetry of a happier lot than the characters I create?” Please, she begged silently, please keep talking so that I don’t have to. Let this fantasy go on for a moment more.

The waves sprayed the air with more salt-laden moisture, their percussionistic melody against the sand creating more fodder for poetry than Jessica could ever hope to write. Though she'd never considered writing prose herself, it seemed like it might be a good way for her to express her own confusion, hurt, and fear. Without someone thinking, or recognizing, it's basis in reality.

[felipe]

"Oh I am no writer," replied Felipe. "I envy you that, Jessica. No, I act... more accurately, I try to," he amended with a smile. "I wish I had the talent to put my feelings and thoughts down on to paper but..." He shrugged in a wr manner, "I am totally useless in that respect. I would love to read some of our poems one day..." He was, of course, moving far too quickly but he could always blame a culture difference for that.

"As for Brazil... Where do I begin? I am from the city of São Paulo... the world's 3rd largest city. It can be totally over-whelming," he confided. "That's why I am finding California such a refreshing change. The city itself was founded back in the 1500's and by Jesuits," he continued. "Its located on a plateau many feet above sea level and yet not all that far from the coast. The views are... breath-taking."

Felipe inched a little further beneath the blanket when a particularl cool breeze blew across the beach. "As a city, it is vibrant and full of life but then the same can easily be said of Brazil in general. I'm very much looking forward to exploring the culture here in California and seeing how the two compare. Already I miss my coffee but other than that..." He shrugged again... "I am very content to be here."

He paused to stare out across the sea for a few moments. "But to answer our question..." Felipe looked at Jessica onc emore. "Yes... your eyes... they tell me you aren't at ease. That said, the best parts of life don't come easily and anything - or one - worth having is best fought for." Felipe smiled at her. "At least, I think so... So tell me more about these characters you write about? A novel, perhaps?"

[Jessica Pruitte]

He wanted to read her poetry? Jessica shivered at the very idea that she might produce something Felipe would want to read. More, that he'd enjoy it!

The half-truths were startting to become as heavy as the non-truths she spouted. It wasn't that she couldn't keep up with it all, she could. It was that she wasn't sure she wanted to anymore. If not for the threat of imprisonment she would throw everything to the wind. This caged-freedom she had created for herslf was becoming more and more constrited and less free.

Yet she did not want to become exactly as those she'd fled from. Caught up in their own affairs, pushing everyone away that didn't help increase their wealth. No real friends to speak of. Bed mates, there were plenty of those, but no love not even between the spouses. And Jess had run from all that. Only to become.. what? A living lie? A person who wasn't at all sure of who they actually were able to escape for a few moments at a time in her self-inflicted solitude.

All of that, however, was pushed aside as Felipe started to talk about home. Sao Paulo. The way he described it (actor or no) was very much the way she would picture a poet describing his love. Shakespeareian in the feel, and Jessica found herself longing to go there. Aching for the beautiful views (and complete lack of an American penalty for her numerous crimes.)

"There's always Starbucks," she pointed out after a momentary lull between his missing coffee and what he had to say next.

Cutting her eyes to the side so she could look at him, Jess pulled her knees up and wrapped the corner of the blanket she wasn't sharing further across her body. "Is anyone at ease really?" asked she, her voice a mere memory of what it should be.

Fought for, he said. Life, and everything she wanted was worth fighting for. Justification in those words for her actions. For the stealing, the lieing, the conning... she was just fighting for what she wanted out of life. For what she felt like she deserved. Would it hold up in court? No. But it was a justification just the same and Jess would cling to it.

"No, not a novel. Just... I create people. For my own benefit. I -" pausing Jess searched for the right words. "-I like the challenge." True enough. The becoming of that person was less of a challenge than being herself though.

Tilting her head back, Jess made a quick, and rash, choice. "What do you think about people? In general I mean? How we go about our daily lives?"

What do you think of people who aren't who they say they are? she meant.

[felipe]

Felipe tilted his head a little to one side, considering her question. "That isn't an easy one to answer, anjo pequeno, but I will try my best." He frowned slightly as he mused, staring out across the roiling sea once again.

"Everyone has their own private battles. Some may appear inconsequential but to the owner it is always a matter of utter importance. How we choose to deal with those comes down to personal and individual strength and determination. The smallest of issues can often defeat the strongest man and yet a frail old lady in the backstreets of Rio can overcome hurdles that would surely suffocate many a fitter person."

Was he answering her as she'd hoped? Felipe couldn't be sure of that but he drew in a sharp breath and continued. "Of course, none of this takes into account the effect of an outside entity. For example, if you were to hold open a door for an elderly woman who was carrying her weekly groceries, would you prevent her from dropping them and breaking her carton of eggs? Your action would directly provide her with food for several meals and at what personal cost?" He threw her a half smile. "You opened a door. Or maybe you give a seat to a pregnant woman on a bus. The bus jerks to a stop and she would have fallen. Did you just save the life of her unborn child? And again, at no cost to you."

He drew his knees up to his chest and hooked his arms loosely around them. "So to answer you more directly. What do I think about people... I think everyone is different and equally as precious to the next person and that if we as individuals can do ANYthing to help ease the lives of others then we should do it. That said," he added, "you are more likely to find a door slammed in your face rather than opened but that doesn't stop me from doing my part or wishing it was otherwise."

"And what of you, anjo Jessica... What do you see in other people? What do you see in me... or yourself?" Perhaps this had been the subject on her mind when he intruded earlier. If so - and as he'd interrupted - she deserved to hear his thoughts.