CHAPTER THREE

March 31st, 2014.

“Clara! ”Anastasia and Annabelle called out, their voices growing louder as the sound echoed through the door with insistent knocking. 

Clara was still fast asleep, barely hearing a thing. Her alarm clock blared repeatedly; her phone buzzed with incoming calls, adding to the cacophony. Meanwhile, Mrs. White answers the landline phone in the living room. The knocking, alarm clock, and phone calls continued to assail Clara’s senses, but she remained fast asleep. Her sisters knock persistently.

 “Who is it? ”Clara asked, her voice laced with sleep.

“Your sisters, who else would it be?” Her sisters replied. “Mom says to take your bath and come eat breakfast,” Annabelle added. 

“Go away,” Clara mumbled, rolling over and returning to sleep. 

Her mom entered Clara's room without knocking with a stern expression. 

“Clara, get up! It's already 7:30 am,” she said firmly. Clara slowly opened her eyes, noticing her mom's annoyed expression. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the sleep. Her mom's stern expression made her sit up.

“What’s wrong, mom? " Clara asked, her voice still laced with sleep.

 “You overslept,” her mom replied.

“Are you not supposed to meet with Annalise at her swimming school today? And why haven’t  you been taking their calls? Why didn’t you answer it?” 

Clara glanced at her phone, seeing several missed calls from Monica and Annalise. 

“I didn’t hear it,” Clara said, shrugging.

 Her mom sighed. “Get dressed and come downstairs. Breakfast is ready.” 

Clara swung her legs over the bed slide and stood up, stretching. 

“Is everything okay, mom?" Clara asked, noticing her mom's tense demeanor. 

Her mom hesitated before responding.

“I keep wondering when sleeping became your priority, Clara,” her mom responded, her voice tinged with frustration.

 Clara rubbed her eyes, feeling defensive. “What’s wrong, Mom?  I just needed some rest,” Clara replied. 

“rest? You’ve been sleeping for nine hours! You can’t keep sleeping through your responsibilities. Take a good look at me, Clara. I have been stressed out for months; I barely rest, and your father and I work so hard to make sure your basic needs are met. I am tired of your newfound hobby; I wake up early to make breakfast and keep the house in order while you lie here sleeping as Hypnos visited you. You are no longer in high school anymore, girl. Is this the kind of example you want to set for your younger ones still in junior high? I do understand you are a teenager, but I hope you grow up someday, and I hope sooner.” Her mom said. 

“I'm so sorry, Mom. I'm sorry I hurt you without realizing I was. I will work on it,” Clara apologized.

 “It's fine; always remember you are my princess, okay,” her mom assured.

“Yes, mom,” Clara responded. 

Her mom left her room. Clara loved her mom more than anything in the world and wouldn’t want to hurt her, but it appears she traded that for sleep and idleness. She looked at her alarm clock; it was 8.00 am. She had plans to walk her friends to their swimming school. She wondered why she was stressed out lately and also the strange dreams she had been having repeatedly. 

She rushed into the bathroom to have her bath. When she was done, she dressed, received a text from Annalise, and quickly rushed downstairs. Her sisters were already leaving for school, and her dad was waiting outside. Her mom placed a plate of toast and scrambled eggs in front of Clara. 

“Eat up, Clara. You don’t want to be late,” she said.

 Clara took a bite, but just as she started to enjoy her meal, her phone buzzed. 

Another text from Annalise: HEY, CLARA! WHERE ARE YOU? MONICA AND I ARE RUNNING LATE. 

Clara's heart skipped a bit; she was furious with herself; she knew her friends had every right to go on without her, yet they were patiently waiting for her. She barely finished the third bite; she stood up, preparing to leave.

 "Mum, I have to go; my friends are waiting for me,” Clara explained. 

“Alright, but make sure you are back before dinner,” her mom pleaded. 

“Yes, mom,” she replied. 

And she left hurriedly, running to Harts Park, where her friends were waiting. 

“Guys, I’m so sorry; please forgive me." Clara pleaded, panting heavily. 

Her friends didn’t look happy; Monica and Annalise both had their hair packed up in ponytails.

 “What happened to you? We were so worried,” Monica asked.

“I overslept, and I don’t understand what's happening to me lately,” Clara explained. 

"Clara, we are late; the training might be over before we ever get a chance to explain ourselves. I wonder what excuse we can make up for Coach Humphrey." 

“I am sorry. I haven’t been on my best behavior. I even hurt my mom. She is so stressed out, and I am just realizing it. I don’t even help her out. I feel so terrible,” Clara said. 

“I get it, Clara. I slapped Zayan last night."  Annalise replied. 

“You did what? ”

"Yes, we had a family dinner at my home last night, and Zayan kept blabbering about Skye and me; last night was just the end of the road because I have had enough of his verbal abuse, especially the disgusting things he says.

 “I'm so proud of you, happy you finally put him in his place,” Monica replied with her eyes sparkling with pride.

 “I thought Zayan changed, maybe dropping off that childish side of him,” Clara said, keeping her hair away from her face.

 “Well, he didn’t grow out that childish side of him; he developed with it. Don’t tell me you still crush on that fool,” Annalise asked, looking straight into Clara's eyes. 

“No, I don’t have any feelings or crush whatsoever on Zayan anymore,” Clara replied defensively. 

“Good to hear, like they say looks can be deceiving and looks do kill too,” Annalise said.

 "Please, we need to go; it is better to show up at the training late than not show up at all,” Monica said.

 “About what type of excuse, I will speak to coach Humphrey,” Clara said.

“And what are you going to tell him?” Monica and Annalise asked.

“The truth,” Clara replied. 

“What?”

 “Yes, he is not stupid; he would pardon you both; you're his best student and have never been late or absent before. And I believe it will work out.” Clara assured.   

They walked as fast as they could. Monica wished she had learned how to ride her bicycle.   They were at the swimming school but were too late for the training; it was over a few minutes ago. Swimming athletes were already leaving, most of them staring at the trios. 

Coach Humphrey saw them; he looked displeased. He was in his swimming suit. Clara couldn’t help but admire his physique as she struggled to focus on the main objective. He walks up to them.

“what happened? Why are you late, girls?" Clara stepped forward; her eyes cast downward.

 “I'm the one at fault, sir. I'm the reason my friends missed their training,” she admitted, her voice contrite. 

Coach Humphrey's gaze softened slightly. 

“You both should make sure it doesn’t repeat itself,” he warned.

 “Yes, sir,” Annalise and Monica chimed in unison. 

“You missed one of the most vital training, and you are fully aware of the upcoming competition. We are just a week away, and I have to say... you’re only half-prepared,” Coach Humprey said, his expression serious.  

 Clara and her friends exchanged nervous glances. “half-prepared?” Annalise repeated. 

“What do we need to work on?” Coach Humphrey hesitated. 

“Your dives are shaky and your turns are slow, Monica. Annalise, your strokes need more power.” 

Monica frowned. “We’ve been practicing, coach.” 

Coach Humprey nodded. “I know, but it's not enough. You need to focus, work together, and perfect your techniques.” 

Annalise spoke up. “We won’t let you down, coach. Well, do better.” 

Coach Humphrey's expression softened.  “I know you will. That is why I'm giving you extra sessions and repeating today's session.” 

The girls exchanged determined and astonished glances.

 “Thank you, coach!” they exclaimed.

 “You welcome,” Coach Humprey replied with a smile.  

 After Coach Humprey excused them to get ready for their extra training session. Monica and Annalise were about to go to the changing room when Clara held them back.

“Is something wrong?” Monica asked, noticing Clara's hesitation.

“Not really,” Clara replied. “I'm just going to the seaport.” 

“Why would you want to go there?" Curiosity etched her face.

"I just want to go there. It will only take a few minutes. I won't cause any trouble,” Clara assured them.

 Annalise and Monica exchanged skeptical glances. 

“Everything okay, Clara? ”Annalise pressed. 

Clara nodded. “I'll catch up with you both soon. Promise” Clara assured.

  “Okay, but be careful anyway,” Monica said.

 “I will. You guys should go change; you don’t want to keep coach waiting,” Clara replied. 

"Okay, make sure you get back early,” Annalise said. 

“Definitely,” Clara said. 

Clara headed to the seaport, lost in her thoughts. She felt relieved Coach Humprey didn’t scold her friends, but she couldn’t shake off the thoughts of the strange dreams she had been having.

 “Why is today so weird?” she asked herself. The seaport was quiet; she wondered if they were on break. So many ships and speedboats docked. Clara liked the solitude; at least she would be alone. She stood close to the dock, watching the waves.

 The ocean's movement sent a cool sensation through her skin. Despite being hydrophobic, she loved the seaport and the ocean's rhythmic motion. She refused offers from her friends to teach her to swim.  

 Clara didn’t think she was talented at all. She was calm, with a strong inner power, and knew how to connect with people. The wind blew her dark, long hair into her face. She brushed it away. When she heard voices, she turned to see two guys talking. Their faces were familiar, especially the blonde-haired guy.   

“Could that be Annalise's cousin?” she wondered.

  “Hey! Why are you staring?” the familiar voice called out. 

Clara turned away, realizing they had noticed her. The blond-haired guy approached her with curiosity and suspicion on his face. 

“Sorry for staring,” she muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Do I know you?” he asked, eyeing Clara. 

“I'm not sure,” Clara replied.

  “I'm Zayan Jackson,” he said with a charming smile. 

Clara's eyes widened. “Annalise's cousin” 

Zayan's eyes sparkled. “You know Annalise?” 

“Yes, I do. I'm a friend of your cousins; I doubt you recognize me; I'm Clara White,” Clara said, studying his expression.

  “Yeah, I kind of recall seeing you before. So, what are you doing here alone at the seaport?” Zayan asked.

  “Nothing much; I just came here to clear my head. I expected it to be busy, but surprisingly it's quiet, and I like it better,” Clara replied. 

“That’s nice; I've never seen anyone enjoy the seaport's solitude like you do. Well, today is Monday and supposed to be a working day. But no one comes to work at the port every March 31st,” Zayan explained.

  “Why is that?” Clara asked curiously. 

“I don’t know, but I heard stories. The spirit of the ocean forbids anyone who works at this seaport from working on this day every year. I don’t believe in those old tales; besides, such things don’t exist. You know how old men are—they believe in those stories, Zayan said laughing. "But I'm working today.” 

“You work here?” Clara asked. 

“Not exactly; my father owns most of the ships that bring in cargo. Have you tried diving before?” Zayan asked.

 “No, I haven’t. I'm hydrophobic, so I am not interested.” Clara replied, feeling uncomfortable.

 “Well, that’s okay; I guess you don’t swim?” Zayan asked.

 “I don’t. I just said I am hydrophobic,” Clara said, avoiding his eyes. 

“It's essential to learn. Were surrounded by water; learning how to swim would help you later. Are you in university yet?” Zayan asked.

  “Yes, University of Antares,” Clara replied.

  “That’s great. I guess we would see each other more often than expected because I am an Antares freshman too,” Zayan replied, smiling.

 Clara wondered how a person who looked as charming as this would be known for unspeakable behavior. She felt maybe he was misjudged, and she believed he had some good inside him.

 Zayan's friend joined them, eyeing Clara with interest. 

“Hi,” the guy greeted Clara.

 “Hello,” Clara responded.

“This is Jace King, my very good friend,” Zayan said, nodding towards his friend. 

“I'm Clara White,” she replied.

 “Nice to meet you,” Jace said, smiling and almost blushing.

 As they chatted, Jace excused himself and left. Clara found herself drawn to Zayan's charisma. But when he suggested fixing a speedboat, her unease grew.

 “So, Clara, do you come here often?” Zayan asked, taking a toolbox and grinning mischievously.

 “Not as much as I used to when I was younger,” Clara replied, eyeing the toolbox warily.

 “I used to when my dad worked here. What are you fixing?” Zayan moved to the speedboat.

 “Just a few things. I need your help,” Zayan said, his eyes gleaming. 

  Clara hesitated.

  “Come on, it will be fun,” Zayan coaxed.

 She reluctantly got in and sat on the speedboat, and while Zayan worked on it and they continued their chat, she felt uneasy. He noticed how scared she was. He slowly untied the rope from the cleat, releasing the speedboat from its mooring, and gave it a little push.

 “What are you doing?” Clara yelled.

 “Stop yelling and enjoy the view,” Zayan said with a smirk. 

The speedboat began to float away, carried by the gentle current. Clara's heart began to race as she realized she was drifting further from the shore.

 “This isn’t funny, Zayan,” Clara yelled. 

Jace rushed toward the dock, attempting to rescue the damsel in distress, but Zayan held him back firmly. Concern etched Jace’s face.

  “What did you do that for?" Jace asked. 

Zayan laughed, dragging Jace away.  “Don’t worry, I’ll get her later.” 

Clara watched as Jace was dragged away feeling hopeless, trapped, and alone. She wondered why the day was so hard on her. Getting out of the boat was the first thing on her mind. But how was she going to get out? She gazed out at the ocean; she began to appreciate its serenity. She soon grew bored. She tried calling her friends on the phone, but they weren’t picking up.

 “They might still be busy,” she said with a sad expression.

 “Am I going to spend half of the day in here? ” Clara laid her head on her lap. 

“No, you won’t,” a voice broke the silence.