"Ah, put it in the box, quick!" I shrieked with laughter as Jamal threw the small crab in the box and Gemma hurriedly shut it. Jamal started breathing heavily while dramatically acting to wipe the imaginary sweat on his forehead. Gemma peered into the box, we had caught four small crabs and the thrill of catching them was still surging through our bodies.

Logan was sprawled under a palm tree nearby, leaning against the trunk with his legs fully stretched out and arms casually spread on either side of his body. His eyes were closed peacefully and his head was tilted upwards. The rays of the sun fell over his face and the shadow of the leaves above made the light on his face appear in stripes, which made him look so aesthetically pleasing without even trying.

"Hey, Logan!" I called out and watched his eyes flutter open as he blinked rapidly at me like he had snapped out of a trance. He always did that. He then scrambled to sit erect and his hands dug in the sand in full alert. "You alright?"

As realization slowly sank in him, he nodded faintly, the grip of the sand in his hands loosening and he rubbed his eyes.

"We should probably go by now, it's time!" I shouted so he could hear clearly and I could see him squinting because of the bright sunlight on his face. I took a glimpse of the box to which Jamal was pointing at a crab in and chatting keenly about it with Gemma who listened with fascination glittering in her eyes. "Logan, we caught these crabs in the box, you want to see?"

Logan immediately shrank back in disgust as I was about to lift the box.

"Dude, you're afraid of crabs," Jamal jibed at Logan and Logan shot him a fierce glare.

"He hates all crawling creatures, I guess. He was even appalled by Fred, my poor worm!" I pointed out and Jamal's own nose scrunched up in disgust.

"That slimy shit's nasty though, I don't blame our flower boy," Jamal remarked and my lips pursed into a thin line. "Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing Gemmie baby?"

"Don't call my sister that," I muttered when my sister's cheeks turned scarlet, but she stopped halfway to liberate the crabs.

"Aw, someone's jealous," Jamal mocked me and winked. "Aye, but really, what's your dear sis doing?"

"She's letting out the crabs," I replied and Gemma gaped at us as if asking whether she could release them. "Go ahead, Jamie talks nonsense."

"He doesn't talk nonsense," she murmured in a protesting tone which made Jamal smirk and a spark of shock travelled through my body. Gemma would never disagree with me and this took me by surprise. A part of me felt proud that she was learning to find her own voice, but another part of me felt an absurd feeling that she had sided with Jamal. I didn't want her to get too attached to him like she had gotten attached to me, because when he would leave her after me, she would break completely.

"Don't let my food go, I was waiting for a crab stew, girl!" Jamal cried out and I swear the crabs had suddenly picked up their pace at Jamal's words to escape since they hurriedly disappeared into the sand.

"They're very small Jamie, almost the size of a big spider and I'm not even sure if it's edible," I explained and then from the corner of my eye, I noticed Logan tapping at his watch. "Anyway, we have to be back at the shop, we're running late. Bye!"

I turned around and jogged towards Logan. I took one last glimpse of Gemma by looking over my shoulder and I saw her staring at the vast ocean. Jamal was trying to dig out the crabs again by inserting a stick in the hole while Gemma remained quiet. Her black hair cascading down her back and swaying due to the wind as she rubbed her arms. I couldn't see the expression on her face because her back was turned to me, but she radiated an odd sense of maturity.

The earliest memory of mine was of her when I was four and she was two. The memory was nebulous, but I could recall how I used to hold a crab in my hand fearlessly. Shaun used to help me catch them sometimes and my dad used to continuously record our moments by taking videos and pictures, while my mum used to freak out about the crab in my hand.

I could recall that moment when Gemma was trying to take hold of a crab by bending and when I went to help her, she started flapping her hands, insisting to do it herself. It was one of the early signs of autism in her along with speech delay. When she had successfully grabbed the small crab, she put it in her mouth and almost swallowed to which everyone went into a state of frenzy.

"Joy," I heard Logan's voice that broke my reverie. "We're late."

"Hmm, yeah," I murmured and sprinted towards him. He was standing on the street with a somewhat concerned look on his face. I halted suddenly, turned around and waved. "Bye, Gem!"

Gemma whirled around as if she too was lost in a fantasy. Her face mildly lit up when she saw me waving and she waved back at me with a wide smile. By this time, Jamal who was sitting on the sand found a crab emerging out of the hole and he excitedly poked at Gemma's t-shirt to draw her attention. She reluctantly tore her gaze from me with an apologetic smile and I laughed lightly.

"Let's go, what are you waiting for?" I asked smugly and brushed past Logan who grumbled under his breath.

God, I was going to miss Gemma when I was gone.

"Do you think we can miss people after we die?" I asked subconsciously while striding and Logan gave me a lasting look before shrugging nonchalantly. "I mean, are we allowed to miss people in heaven or hell? Is there even heaven or hell? Will my spirit remember all these moments?"

"I'm not dead yet, you know," Logan bellowed and the use of 'yet' in his reply honestly scared me. It felt almost promising as he would die soon. I shook those horrifying thoughts away.

"Well, that's reassuring," I said sarcastically and noticing my barely concealed frightened expression, Logan sighed.

"Look, Joy, it-it all depends on our beliefs until we actually die and find out the answers. The answers to your questions cannot be found in some-some book or from some saint or-or from another person unless you share the same beliefs. It depends on your perception, faith, whatever you want to call it. If you love the- for example- if you love the taste of pizza, it becomes your favourite food. If you love a certain myth or if-if it gets in your head, it becomes your belief just as most of us believe that-that good deeds leads us to heaven because we want people to be good."

"Yeah that's true like sometimes I believe that ghosts exist only so that they won't trouble me because apparently in horror movies, ghosts scare the crap out of people that don't believe in them- to make them realize of their presence," I said in a low voice and giggled nervously. "Hope ghosts can't hear me now."

Logan's lips twitched upwards the slightest as he pushed through the door of the flower shop and the bells dinged.

"Where were you both? Took a lot of time, aye? I won't tolerate this next time!" Grandpa roared from behind the counter and started moving towards the door. "I have some work to do, so don't disappear anywhere. And remember Kellerman, I'm paying you so you better do the work that's expected from you and don't let my granddaughter do all the work."

"Yes sir," Logan said in a hardly audible voice and my grandpa raised his bushy eyebrow. "I said yes sir, I'll do the work that's expected from me."

"You better." Grandpa strutted out of the shop and I rubbed my temples tiredly at my grandpa's typical behaviour.

"He's a pain at home I bet," Logan muttered daringly and I frowned.

"Hey! He was not like this before, quite the opposite in fact. He has his problems, just like you do, and let me enlighten you, this is hypocrisy at the finest level. You aren't the most cheerful person either to point at my grandpa," I argued defensively and he swallowed hard, his face grim.

"Sorry." His gaze flickered from me to the flowers on the basket while tugging at his sleeves tremulously, which took me by surprise. He was honest and quick to realize, never in denial. At least, he apologised which was a first considering that he hadn't uttered anything close to a sorry when he had stolen the roses from me.

The bells chimed and in came Eliza looking flustered.

"I want some nice, colourful looking flowers," she demanded and I handed her a bottle of water to cool her down.

"What happened now? Simon still hasn't wooed your sister?"

"Ah no, they're alright. Great actually, if you see, they have finally gone to Switzerland for their honeymoon," she said with a hint of happiness and gulped the water gladly.

"That's amazing, so for whom do you want flowers?"

"It's for Isabella, remember the redhead girl from the support group? She has her 'big' operation today so I'm going to visit her," she narrated and her eyes browsed the flowers around. "You remember her, right? You should visit her too."

"Oh yeah, of course, I remember her. I'll drop by at around eight, I got to ask my mum to take me to the hospital since I can't trust my driving," I reasoned out and glanced at Logan standing beside me awkwardly. "Anyway, which flowers do you want?"

"Those daffodils look perfect," she said with a small smile and pointed at the yellow daffodils behind Logan and me.

I hadn't realized that both of us turned around simultaneously to grab the flowers until I felt another hand over mine, grasping the bunch of flowers in the fancy basket kept on the shelf. Logan's hand was larger but felt surprisingly soft and warm over mine. Our eyes locked into each other and my breath hitched as greenish-blue eyes stared back at me intensely. It was as if I was gazing at the ocean, tempted to swim or cause the calm water to ripple with the slightest motion of my body. Tempted to ask him, to let me in.

"That iris arrangement looks nice too, but isn't it too bridesmaid like?" I heard Eliza's voice and both Logan and I withdrew our hands quickly like we had touched a hot pan.

"Erm . . . Yeah, maybe," my voice came out as a strangled whisper, hoarse and thick as I cleared my throat. I heard Logan exhale audibly and realized that he had been holding his breath too all this while. Our eyes met once again surreptitiously and he looked a bit red.

"Did something happen?" Eliza asked cluelessly and I quickly averted my eyes back at her.

"Er-Nothing, so you want daffodils right?" I said with force, almost urging her to agree and she nodded. "Alright L-Logan, pack those daffodils nicely. Do you want any note or ribbon to be stuck?"

"Yeah, I mean a simple note saying get well soon will do," she replied and Logan quietly did what he was asked to, first packing it nicely in a brown paper and then attaching a card at the bottom. "JJ, you should come to the support group, everyone misses you."

I expected her to insist again since I had been trying to avoid the entire subject and here it came.

"I'm the next one to supposedly die from the group and everyone's eyeing me with sympathy and what not. I don't want to come," I said politely and she gave me an incredulous look.

"There are Katherine and Ben who are the next ones to die, not you JJ," she stated and it was my turn to look at her in disbelief. Was she being serious? She persisted, "So you can come, you should."

"That's terrible to put it in that way! But they're old, Liz, over sixty. I don't mean that it's okay for them to die, but we all know that they have seen the world more than a teenager like me. I'm grateful for the support group to give me hope when I needed them most, but now it's done. I don't want to be reminded constantly that I'm dying and given false hope, it's done," I said with emphasis and added softly, "I'm sorry."

"It's just that I miss my friend . . . but you don't seem to reciprocate it," she said suddenly and harshly, the words stinging me and snatched the flowers from Logan's hands. Her behaviour turned irrational when she slammed the money on the counter. "Bye, JJ. I wish you thought of others rather than yourself."

"Liz, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I really care about you--- " my words died down when she stormed out of the shop without a backward glance, leaving a lump in my throat.

* * *

A/N :

All the ocean/otherwise pictures you see in the media of this book throughout has been clicked by me during my holidays. After each holiday, I'm more inspired to write this story because as cheesy as it sounds, the ocean reminds me of Joy❤