Free Tear Stained Beaches by Courtney Giardina

talking, she’d lay back down and soak up as much sun as she could, before she had to leave to get ready for her shift at The Pier Shack.
    By 2:00pm it was time for Meghan to start packing up. I decided to follow her lead and call it a day as well. My stomach gurgled ravenously as we were gathering out things that Meghan must have heard it too. 
    “You know where I think you should go?” She asked.
    “Where?”
    “The Sandbox Café. They have the best sandwiches in town.”
    I laughed. “He’s that obvious huh?” I said looking down and patting my stomach.
    “Just a little.” She pressed her fingers together to gesture. “But for real, you should go. All their food is made fresh to order and the ingredients come from local farms.”
    “That sounds delicious. How far is it from here?”
    “About ten minutes down that way. Just turn left when you see the sign for the east end pier.  I think it’s the third traffic light. You can’t miss it; it’s a big green sign. The café is right on the pier so you can sit outside and look at the ocean.”
                  “Perfect. I’m gonna head home first to rinse off and freshen up.”
                  “Let me know how you like it. I’ll be at the Pier Shack all night, so stop by if you need anything.”
                  “Will do. Thanks Meg.”
                  We waved goodbye and headed in opposite directions.
    Meghan was right—you couldn’t miss the big green sign to the pier. As I made my way up the steps, I could see the line to the café was out the door and around the corner. She must not have been exaggerating about it being the best in town. I thought about all the other places I passed on the way that I could go to get something to eat faster, but really, what kind of hurry was I in? Where did I need to be that I couldn’t wait in line for a measly 15 minutes for a sandwich? The answer to that was nowhere. There was absolutely nowhere I needed to be. Today, this week, and maybe even the week after that, it was all about me. I was going to do what I wanted to do; as I figured out what the hell I was going to do with the mess I called my life. So damn it: if I wanted to try the best sandwiches on Kettlewood Island, and I had wait 15 minutes to do it, then so be it, I would.
    While waiting in line I checked my cell phone. I hadn’t looked at it since that morning and wondered if Katie had anything else to say about Chase showing up at her house. I could see the blue light flashing—a gentle reminder that life was still revolving outside the bubble I had retreated into.
    There were four text messages and three voicemails. I saw that the only missed calls I had were from Chase. A lump grew slowly in my throat. My hands started to shake as I hit the delete button without even listening to the voicemails.  I tried to do the same for his messages too, but I couldn’t do it. I wanted to see what he had to say. I wondered if he knew why I left, was ready to confess what had been going on, or if he was going to continue to lie about it all. I guess I wasn’t surprised that each one of them didn’t allude to anything.
The first one read: Can you at least tell me where you are? I need to know that you’re ok
I clicked to the next one: I love you Haylie. Please come home and talk to me
And the next: I’m going crazy here Haylie, please say something. What’s wrong?
    I whispered, “What is bothering me Chase is that you know EXACTLY what is wrong with me and you are too much of a coward to admit it!”
    Mad, once again, at the ridiculous way he was handling this situation; I pounded the keys on my phone as I scrolled to the final text. It was Katie. Glad you’re ok. Call if you need anything. Be strong. She was such a sweet girl. I remember the day she came over to bring us that apple pie. Her dark brown, shoulder length hair was damp from the shower she must’ve taken right before. Her one shoulder, navy