2: Blocked

     I'm awakened by the sounds of the seagulls as they fight over something or other. Ugh, I stayed up too late last night. I remember how I used to be when I got an idea in my head for something to write. I couldn't rest until I felt I'd done enough to appease the muse or whatever. I try to go back to sleep.

     It's no good. I can't sleep anymore. I stretch and yawn as I make my way into the bathroom to get a shower. Then, after I scarf down some cereal, I sit down at my computer again to see if I can pick up where I left off with my book. Somehow I just can't get back into the spirit of the story.  

     Figures. Besides, this just makes me think of that guy. I wonder who he is? It's a small island. I suppose I'm bound to run into him sometime or other.

     Again, I try to get into the story in front of me. I'd reached a good stopping point last night before I went to bed. I guess the stopping point was a little too good.

     Thrill. Writer's block. Can it even be called writer's block if I've only spent one night writing it? This doesn't bode well for the rest of it. Maybe I should trash this as well.

     No! Dammit, I had a decent idea. Maybe I just need to get out again and clear my head and come back to it fresh.

     So, I leave the house once again. This time I head towards the library. If I can't write a book right now, maybe reading something would help.

     The island's library is much nicer than I expected it to be. I'm not sure exactly what I expected, but nothing like this. I find a happy little outdoor area and pick up a volume off the shelf that looks interesting. I like to read a little of a book before I check it out usually.

   The area I'm in is deserted, and I love that. There were people downstairs on the library's computers, so I steered clear of that area. I settle myself down on one of the little couches they have available and crack the book open.

     Although I'm absorbed in the book pretty quickly, I still hear the door behind me open. Great. Again, so much for solitude. Maybe whoever it is is just passing through.

     Oh no. Is that...? It is. I think so anyway.

     Okay, maybe this island is too small.

     I surreptitiously peep up at him as he too pulls a book off the shelf, and I debate whether or not I should get up and leave or just go somewhere else in the library. It's a big library after all. But this is a nice outdoor reading area, and I saw it first! Maybe he'll just take his book and go somewhere else to read it or go check it out right away.

     Of course, he doesn't.

     I tightly grip my book in both of my hands to keep them from shaking. I've stopped reading it, debating what I should do. If I got up to leave right now, it might look obvious that I'm avoiding him. Well, I am. He makes me uncomfortable.

      I'm grateful for the hair in my face as I quickly glance up at him before I return my eyes to the meaningless words on the page of my book. I remember to turn a page as I work on slowing my frantic heart down. I have to get out of here. I can't focus on a thing.

      Aw man! He just looked up for a whole second right at me. Next thing you know, he's going to want to speak to me. Is it still too soon to jump up and run away?

     I notice that at least today he doesn't have those sunglasses on. I start to wonder what his name is. I mean, I started writing a book practically about him last night. Maybe he could break this block I have. He just looked at me again. Did he see that I saw him looking at me? I bite my lip as I ponder what to do. My leg starts shaking of its own accord, irritating me.

     I decide enough is enough. I'm no longer interested in this book I'm not reading, so I close it up and notice he has a ring on his finger. It's not on his wedding ring finger, just a gold ring on his middle finger. I'm careful to look to see if there are any tan lines or creases to indicate that there's usually a ring where a wedding band would go. There's nothing.

     I can feel him looking at me, and I hear his book close as well. Oh no. Maybe I should've stayed sitting down and pretending to read.

     Just walk away, Erin. Walk away nice and slow.

     I'm not normally this skittish around other people, even people I don't know. Well, okay. I'm not exactly friendly either, but I'll sometimes offer a quiet "hi" to passers by. Not this man. I don't know what it is about him, but he makes me incredibly uncomfortable. Yesterday, I blamed it on his sunglasses, but he's not wearing them today. Maybe I'm just remembering the sunglasses.

     I've been standing here staring at the bookcase for too long. If I don't leave soon, he might get up and try to talk to me. My eyes widen with that possibility. I purposefully turn on my heels and head for the staircase to go downstairs. I get to the bottom and breathe a sigh of relief. Now he can't talk to me without making it obvious that that's what he set out to do. I take a deep breath as I head for the exit.

     Just as I get ready to open the door in front of me, I hear behind me, "Hey, Erin! Wait up!"

   Why did I tell him my name? I think as I also realize he remembered, and a small feeling of happiness courses through me with that knowledge.
     "Yes? What is it?" I ask, and I hate how I sound slightly breathless.

     I slowly turn around and see his eyes are brown. He's walked right up to me, and he stands in front of me quietly, looking like he's debating what it is he wants to say. I'm certainly not going to say anything.
     He starts talking finally. "I was just wondering. You're not a tourist, are you? I mean, the whole picking the vegetables and talking about something defrosting on the counter kind of tells me you're not. Are you a new resident here? You can't have lived here long."
     He remembered everything I said yesterday. "No, I'm not a tourist. I bought a house here." And I'm not telling you where. How do I know you're not some crazy psychopathic killer? Ew. Very dark path for my book to travel down.
     He smiles again, and I quickly gauge the distance between me and that chair behind me in case I have need of it. I hear the soft pounding of the librarian stamping a book that someone must be checking out.
     "That's great!" he says, still smiling. "Hey, me and some friends of mine are throwing a party at The Flamingo tomorrow. Wanna come? In case you might want to meet a few of the other locals."
     Is he asking me out or just merely inviting me to a party? If I go to the party am I his date? Why do I get the feeling that that's what it is? Or will turn out to be? 
     Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe he's just not interested and he's just being nice.
     Wait, what am I thinking?! A party?
     "I don't know if I'm quite settled enough for a party just yet. I've only been here a few days," I say quietly. He looks momentarily bummed.

     "Who says you have to be settled to go to a party? Why not just let the unpacking rest for a little bit?" he asks. I've been completely unpacked for two days now. That's not the problem here. "It's the perfect thing for someone like you to do." No it isn't.
     "I just don't think I'd feel comfortable being around a bunch of people I don't know," I say. That's normal, right? Sure, lots of people are like that.
     A look of mild surprise comes over him before he says, "Oh, that's right. You don't even know me yet. My name's Bryce. There! Now you know somebody!" I'm grateful he doesn't hold out his hand for a handshake. I take several deep breaths before he continues, "There will be a lot of people there, but in a way that's good because that way you won't... um, stand out as much." He looks like he doesn't believe what he just said.

     "I'm just... not..." My heart starts hammering inside me, blocking the passage of air to my lungs. I think he is asking me out. I don't need this right now. I don't think I'm wrong here. "...settled in yet. I still even have a bit of jet lag." Lie.
     He doesn't look too discouraged. "Well, think about it okay? I mean, you have some more time to get settled before the party tomorrow. It's starts at six." Then he looks down, and when he looks back up at me with those brown eyes of his, I want to reach my arm back behind me and hold onto the wall for support. He says, "I'd really like it if you came."
     "I'll think about it," I say real fast and start backing towards the door. "I... gotta go," I say before I open it and rush out of the library.

     I bite my lip as I descend the stairs. So, his name is Bryce.
     I have to run by the courthouse to sign some silly paperwork saying that I'm a writer and whatnot. I don't really like the residency transfer papers I have to sign. I don't like the paper trail that Sean could possibly look up, but I suppose I don't have a choice here.

     Outside the courthouse, I walk over to some nicely-placed benches. I can't help but think how beautiful it is here. However, beautiful or not, it still doesn't drive the memory of Sean and Meredith out of my mind. My best friend. My fiance. That's the kind of stuff you only read about or see on some soap opera. Huh. That's my life.

     I could move light years away from them, but still that memory would remain. I'm sick to death of moping around because of it. I wish I could just really move on. Forget them.
     Maybe I should go to that party. Just for a minute. Out of curiosity. They're my new neighbors after all. If nothing else, I could simply find a quiet spot to sit and watch everyone.
    But what do I do about this Bryce guy? If I show up does that mean it's a date? No. Surely not. It's just me going to a party. Hah! Erin goes to a party. Take that, Sean! Mousy little coward my ass!
     That's it. I'm going!
     But... still there's... him. He's... all right so he's adorable, but I don't need this right now! The last thing I need is to get into another relationship.
     I land real hard on my butt as I sit on the bench, staring out at the water. I decide to go back home and write about the dad in my story trying to start dating again and having a rough time with it.

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