I tried not to show how much his words cut at me. Yes, they cut at me. Because – no matter how much Daniel told me he loved me, how many times he held me, no matter how many times he chose me above all others – that still, small voice whispered Why? Why would he love you? You are not worthy of this boy, of this love … My gaze went to search through the thronging crowd, searching to find Daniel. The one who held my happiness in his hands. He stood on the seawall with the wind whipping through his hair, the burn of the sun highlighting his every muscular imprint. The boy I loved. The boy who loved me in all my fiery weaknesses.
My face hardened, my voice was laced with poison as I spoke to this boy who dared to assume he knew anything about me. “Screw you.”
And with that I walked away without looking back. Without waiting to see how he would respond. Praying that I wouldn’t run into him again – or else I might lose it and set fire to his sneering face.
The individual events continued to be won by the paddlers from Hawaii, the women’s team events were dominated by the local club, Pualele, and finally it was the closing event – the men’s team 500m. The sun was now high in the sky, people were tired, hot, and ready to go home. Sweat soaked the back of my shirt, and I found myself wishing for the coolness of the mountain pool. Maybe me and Daniel could go there after this? My musings on swimming with Daniel, ok, let’s be honest – my musings on kissing Daniel in a mountain pool – were interrupted by the marshal’s whistle. The race had begun. Daniel’s boat had pulled out into the lead ahead of the Hawaiian team and the crowd went wild at the possibility that we might actually beat the visitors in this one. But the lead was only a slight one. The red-shirted paddlers worked in determined unison, furiously trying to catch up. Would they be able to overtake before the fast-approaching finish line was reached? Suddenly, there was a murmur of disbelief from the spectators. The red boat was veering to the right, towards the lead blue boat. The steerer was maneuvering the boat like a missile, directly at the side of the va’a.
“What are they doing? Crazy fools are going to cause a collision.”
The lead paddler of the blue boat yelled out in warning at the red team, a warning that was ignored and the canoe continued on its collision course.
“That steerer is deliberately trying to get them off course!” exclaimed Simone beside me. “It’s that paddler who beat Daniel in the single canoe event. The hot one with the tats.”
I frowned at Simone’s treacherous observation before taking another look at the Hawaiian boat. The steerer was a dark, lean figure, a glint of a smile on his face as he directed their boat closer to the blue team. My breath caught at the vision of the impending crash. What was he doing? I couldn’t stand to watch. I wanted to send a flash of fire at the red boat, enough to blow them out of the water. Enough to incinerate that maniac in the steerer seat. At the very last minute, the blue boat veered sharply to the right to get out of the way. A decision that took them away from their course to the finish line. Enough to allow the red boat a clear route to the win. They cheered and raised their paddles in celebration as they coasted over the line. The crowd booed.
There was an unwilling note of admiration in Simone’s voice, “Wow, that was sly. They totally planned that, screwed our team over.”
“What a total jerk.” I exclaimed.
The teams were out of their boats and swimming to shore now. I ran towards the rock steps where a crowd waited for the paddlers. I had to push and shove my way through to the front where an altercation was taking place.
Daniel and the other five Pualele paddlers confronted the lead Hawaiian paddler. “What was that? You almost caused a collision, you cheated.”
The crowd buzzed in angry assent. The lean boy ignored them. He shrugged his shoulders and opened his arms in careless dismissal. “What? That was standard race tactics. There was no contact between the boats. It’s not our fault if you couldn’t handle the race pressure and chose to veer right. There was nothing illegal there. If you had more international race experience, you would know that you were just beaten. Fairly.” Another shrug. “Better luck next year.” He turned to his team and made a comment that had them all laughing.
Another paddler on Daniel’s team – a bulky boy called Pita – overheard the comment and he didn’t like it. He took a step closer towards the Hawaiians, “What did you say?”
The leader laughed again and stared down at the shorter boy for a moment before raising his voice to ensure the gathering crowd could hear him. “I said, grow some balls, then maybe you won’t be so chicken next year and run away from our boat.”
Pita snapped, went straight for the jeering boy’s throat. He never made it. In one quick movement, the Hawaiian had him in a chokehold that swiftly changed to a ground slam as he expertly maneuvered the heavier boy into a position face down in the dirt. The situation then went from bad to worse as one, two, three, more and then everyone was in on the scuffle. Some, like Daniel were trying to separate red- and yellow-shirted paddlers who were now locked in mutual chokeholds, while others were eagerly joining in with punches and blows of their own. The lead Hawaiian boy was in the thick of the action. A knee to the gut of another boy, an elbow to the face of another. He fought with expert skill, lightning-fast movements that belied his experience and always there was that smile on his face. A taunting, laughing smile that provoked angry reactions on all sides, but still the boy fought on and apart from a cut of red on his cheek, he was fighting unmatched. Even the untrained eye could see that this boy was a professional fighter. I hated watching as one and then another Pualele paddler was taken out by the Hawaiian. He paused in between punches to shout.
“Come on! Bring it, is that all you got?”
I cast a furtive glance over my shoulder but nobody was paying any attention to just one more girl in the throng of spectators. Daniel was some distance away, still struggling to separate two other paddlers and Simone? Simone was standing on the seawall cheering excitedly. “Einjo! Hmm go baby! I love it.”
No, nobody was paying any attention to me. Nobody would notice if I did something. Anything. Like shut this arrogant fool up. I sidled through the crowd until I was directly opposite the Hawaiian captain. He stood jeering at a wary crowd as he spun a paddle with practiced ease, wielding it like a war club. I breathed, focused, and summoned fire. Just a little bit. Just enough to flick at the boy’s hands like a fiery whip, enough to make him cry out in surprised pain and drop the paddle. I was fast enough that nobody even saw my attack. Or so I thought. Because as the boy stood there holding his burnt hands he looked up and directly at me.
“You…”
And then I couldn’t resist giving in to some of my murderous rage from our earlier encounter. Even as I acted, my internal rational radar was screaming at me, Don’t do it, Leila! Just walk away … I would have so many times in the coming months to regret not listening to that advice.
Taking advantage of the boy’s momentary burn I stepped forward and tripped his feet out from underneath him, using one of those nifty hook-twist-pivot-swing moves that Dayna had showed the girls in their very first class. He never knew what hit him. One minute he was staring at me in shock – the next, he was flat on his back, stunned. I grabbed the paddle from the ground and hit him in the abdomen. A sharp, quick blow with the handle. The boy lay gasping for air, curled up in pain on the ground, as the watching crowd cheered. I was high on adrenaline. It felt amazing. I wonder if this is what the Rock feels like when he’s kicking butt in the ring? I couldn’t resist leaning down with a triumphant smile to whisper so only he could hear, “Yes, it’s me. And I’m nobody’s bitch, so don’t you forget it.”
I wish I could have recorded that moment for posterity. Or YouTube. That moment as arrogance was replaced with total shock. That moment when a neon sign lit up in this arrogant boy’s brain – I just got my ass kicked. By a girl. Ha.
And then I quickly melted back into the brawling crowd, searching for Daniel.
It didn’t
take long for the fight to be over. The Pualele captain, the one they called ‘Pres’ swiftly waded into the throng, his height and build making it an easy task for him to put a stop to the action. He pulled Pita away from one of the Hawaiian paddlers, snapping out orders to the others.
“That’s enough! Stop it. Daniel, help get these fools out of here. Pualele Club, all of you, back to the tent. Now.”
Then he turned and issued a curt command to the Hawaiian team captain, who was slowly getting to his feet. “And you, get your team under control before I call the police.”
The captain smiled that irritating cocky smile and raised both hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. We didn’t start this, but hey, we’re happy to finish it.” He jerked his head at the rest of his team. “Come on boys, we’re leaving. These amateurs are sorry losers. They can’t handle knowing we’re way out of their league.”
The crowd parted for them as the red-shirted boys pushed through, back to their base where they began packing up gear and throwing it onto a big flatbed truck. I made my way through the crowd to Daniel’s side. “Hey, are you alright?”
The slight edge of panic on his face cleared when he saw me, as he pulled me close. “There you are. I was worried about you. You didn’t get caught up in any of this did you?”
I thought about barbed wire fences and reassured him, “No. I was watching from over there. It was such a crazy mess and I didn’t want to get anywhere near it. I’m just glad you’re alright.”
It was the right answer because he smiled and brought my hand to his lips, a lingering kiss on my fingers. “That team from Hawaii sure knows how to finish a regatta on an explosive note. I hope they don’t bring their attitude to the prize-giving function tonight. Come on, let’s find Simone and get you out of here.”
As he carved a path for us through the crowd, I felt the burn of eyes at my back. I turned to find its source and saw the captain of the Hawaiian team standing on the seawall staring directly at me with an inscrutable gaze.
Still high on happy adrenaline, I thought about giving him the finger. But decided to just smile instead. Victorious. Triumphant.
Gloating. It’s so immature. But oh so fulfilling.
“Are you crazy? You can’t go to a party wearing that!” Even the neighbors could probably hear Simone’s exclamation of horror as he stared at me with one hand on his hip and eyebrows raised in disdain.
“Why not?” I looked down at my white linen blouse and navy denim skirt. My sandals. “What’s wrong with it? Daniel said it was a semi-formal function and this is what I wear to church with Matile and Tuala. This is as formal as I get.” I felt for the bun at the nape of my neck self-consciously. “I thought I looked quite nice. See, I even put my hair up, I made an effort.”
Simone was disgusted. “You look awful. I will not be caught dead with you. If you don’t change then I’m going without you.”
I laughed. “Don’t you think that will be a bit difficult seeing as how I’m the one driving – oh, not to forget – you don’t have a car? You’re stuck with me, Simone.”
He didn’t reply because he was too busy going through my closet, muttering under his breath. “Honestly, I don’t know how we can be friends when you don’t have a single fashionable bone in your bony-as body. Now, there’s got to be something decent in here somewhere …”
I rolled my eyes and made a face at his back and his voice snapped at me from the closet depths. “And don’t you go being cheeky at me girlfriend, eh? I have eyes in the back of my head.” There was a sudden squeal of satisfaction. “Yes, I knew we could find something worthwhile in here.”
He emerged from the closet, tugging at a familiar bag. “What is this huh? Why are you hiding it all the way in the back there?”
I frowned at everything that bag reminded me of. “No, those aren’t really my clothes.”
He ignored my protests, threw the bag on the bed, opened it and grabbed at handfuls of vivid fabric. “No freakin way. Mena and Tav designer labels? Where did you get all this stuff? And more importantly, why haven’t you shared it with me?” He threw a hurt, angry look in my direction as he pounced on a fuchsia tube dress painted with frangipani flowers. “Mine! This one’s mine. You can’t have this one.”
“Umm, nobody’s fighting you for any of this stuff. You go right ahead and have that one. In fact, you can have the whole bag. They were gifts from Nafanua last year and they’re not my thing. I think I only ever wore one of them to be honest.”
My mind jumped back to that night of celebration when Nafanua had taken me to dinner at Aggie Grey’s Restaurant. The night I had met Jason. The night my mother had told me how proud she was of me. Simone jolted me out of my reverie.
“Hello, earth to Leila? You’re an idiot, you know that right?” He had already stripped off his own shirt to wriggle into the fuchsia shift and paused mid-shimmy to reprimand me. “You wear such ugly clothes all the time. The most stylish thing I’ve ever seen you wear is your SamCo uniform – that’s how bad your wardrobe options are. Those denim shorts to your knees and the faded t-shirts? Even the linen potato sack dresses your aunt in America bought? They do nothing for you.” Noting my hesitation, he softened his tone, “ I’m sure your mom would want you to wear the clothes she bought for you. Right?”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned back to the assortment of clothing spilled out on the bed and started shifting through it. “Ah, here, this one screams ‘Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.’ Just not as loud as my dress. You already have a man so you don’t need to shine too much. Put this one on.”
I resigned myself to my fashion fate. “Fine. But the only reason I’m not fighting you on this is because we’re already late and I don’t want to miss Daniel’s performance. Give it here.”
I took the red two-piece outfit and changed quickly. The top had a scoop neck that was lower than I wanted it to be but at least it wasn’t strapless. Or backless. The skirt was silk-screened with scarlet hibiscus flowers and fell in soft folds to just above the knee. I gave a twirl for Simone’s benefit. “Happy now?”
“Yes. Much better. That speaks to me of elegance and restrained sensuality.” He chucked a pair of black heels at me. “Add these. Now you at least have a chance of keeping Daniel. Because next to me in this dress, ooh la la, I will be stealing everyone’s boyfriend tonight!” He struck a runway pose and I made all the appropriate exclamation mark sounds. And finally, he deemed us ready to go.
The regatta prize giving was being held at Sails Restaurant. A stunning venue that opened out to a deck over the ocean, lit with candles and fairy lights. There was a band playing when we arrived and I quickened my pace up the entrance steps, dragging Simone after me. “Come on, Daniel could be on soon.”
“I’m going as fast as a girl can go in these shoes,” he grumbled. At the entrance to the restaurant, he caught at my arm. “Wait. We have to make our entrance.”
“What?”
“Our entrance.” He studied my appearance with a critical eye, “Couldn’t you have at least put some makeup on?” He whipped out lipstick from his neat red purse and applied it expertly. “There, now you look more like a friend of mine. Let’s go. Put your shoulders back, stick your chest out. Don’t you know anything?!”
I grimaced and followed after him as he sauntered into the crowded restaurant. All the paddling clubs and their supporters were out in full force and the place was packed. Thankfully, the open-air setting and cool ocean breeze saved it from being too uncomfortable. Still, I was ill at ease, searching everywhere for the only reason that I was there in the first place. Daniel. He found me first. An arm slid around my waist, making me jump.
“Here you are. I thought you were never going to show.”
I turned with a welcome smile of relief as he enfolded me in his embrace, a light kiss on my forehead before he pulled back to study my red ensemble. A low whistle. “Wow.”
A nervous smile. “What? Do you like it?”
“Like
it? I love it.” His hold on my waist tightened and he pulled me to him again, this time taking several steps back into a sheltered spot behind some palm plants. “Come here.” He kissed me again, this time tasting my lips. The noise of the crowd, the band, the smoke, the laughter and chatter, all of it, everything faded to nothingness as I gave in to everything that was Daniel. The salt-sweetness of his mouth. The light play of his tongue on mine. The slight scrape of his newly shaven cheeks. The way he anchored me to earth with his hands on my hips, the delicious burn of his fingers as they caressed against the glimpse of skin where my top just edged my skirt. All too soon, the kiss ended and he pulled away to whisper against my ear. “I love it, almost as much as I love you in denim shorts and a sweaty tee, welding in my workshop. Almost.”
I smiled up at him. “I think I would prefer to be in shorts and a tee, welding in your workshop right now. It would be more comfortable than this get-up that Simone forced me into.” Someone in the crowd bumped against my back, which made Daniel frown. He pulled me closer and maneuvered us so that now I was the one with my back against the wall. And he was pressed in close, sheltering me.
Daniel grimaced. “At least at my workshop we would be alone.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Simone chose this outfit? I’m glad he didn’t put you in something as bare as the outfit he’s wearing.” He motioned with his head over to where Simone was dancing in the center of the dance floor with a trio of boys I vaguely recognized from the regatta earlier that day.
I faked a frown. “Oh, and what would you have done if I had worn that dress Simone’s got on right now?”
“I would have taken my shirt off to cover you up with it.”
“In that case, I’m sorry I didn’t switch dresses with Simone.” I teased. “I can never get enough of seeing you shirtless, you know.”
“I would have taken off my shirt, covered you up, then thrown you over my shoulder and taken you to my welding cave.” Daniel’s tone was teasing but the kiss he gave me was filled with taut promise. The world was spinning. I slipped my hands up around his neck and clung to his hard strength, wishing that this moment could go on forever.
When Water Burns Page 15
