“Hello, everyone!” The chef is suddenly standing in front of us, hands clasped together. For a second, I pray that he did not see Kendall’s boob, but then I realize, it doesn’t make a bit of difference if he saw Kendall’s boob. It wasn’t my boob, and has no bearing at all on my life. I should not be embarrassed by what anyone else chooses to do. Unless it’s one of my kids, of course.
“I have two orders of hibachi steak—” the chef points at Kendall and Francine as he reads from his notepad, “and one hibachi chicken.” He points to George. “I do not have your order, ladies,” he continues, pointing at Leah and me.
“Oh! We just got here,” I explain, scooping up the menu and examining it hastily.
“Can I just get sushi?” Leah asks, delicately pushing away the menu in front of her.
Ugh. She’s totally going to be passive aggressive about her hatred for hibachi places?
As if on cue, Kendall asks in a concerned voice. “Is everything okay? Are you not hungry?”
Leah shakes her head sadly. “No, it’s fine. I just don’t really...well, I’m not a hibachi fan.”
Kendall glares at me accusingly. “Why didn’t you say something when Francine asked you to come here? Why didn’t you tell her that Leah doesn’t like hibachi places?”
“I, uh, I’m…” I stammer, not quite sure how to answer this accusation. Leah’s distaste for hibachi had been the least of my concerns at the moment that Francine was asking me to dinner. And why is Kendall so fiercely defending Leah’s likes and dislikes? She’s my best friend, not hers. If I am not concerned with Leah’s aversion to hibachi restaurants, why should she be?
“It’s fine,” Leah says, gently laying her hand on top of Kendall’s. “Vi didn’t know.”
“Oh,” Kendall replies curtly.
Well, that’s a lie. As nice as it is that Leah lied to get Kendall off my back, I don’t understand why we even need to be making a big deal of this anyway. Why can’t we just order our food like normal people? Why does everything have to be a big deal around Leah?
“Miss? Are you ready to order?”
“Um, yeah. I’ll have the hibachi shrimp, please.” I hand my menu to the chef.
“Okay,” he says, collecting the menu from me. “I must ask about food allergies in the party. Anyone with food allergies?”
George awkwardly raises his hand. “Um, yeah. I have a shellfish allergy.”
“To shrimp?” the chef ask, disgust apparent in his voice. As if having a shrimp allergy is like having genital warts or something.
“Yes,” George says sheepishly.
“Well, then I will need to make your meal last,” the chef says pointedly at me. He seems incredibly put out.
“Um, okay,” I stammer. Like George’s shellfish allergy is all my fault. “I can get something else if it’s easier,” I add.
“No, no, no!” George shouts. “Please don’t change your meal on my account. In fact, I will just get some miso soup. Cancel the hibachi chicken for me. That way you don’t have to wait for your meal.”
“Oh no, it’s fine! I’ll wait for my meal. It’s really no big deal,” I tell him, mortified that he’s willing to practically starve on my account.
“But I insist!”
“So what am I making?” the chef asks, visibly aggravated by the exchange in front of him.
“Get him his hibachi chicken. I’m seriously okay with—”
“No, I’m looking forward to the miso soup. Really.”
“Miso soup comes with the hibachi chicken,” the chef says with a sigh.
“Oh well then—”
“Let’s go.” Kendall gets to her feet and loops her cross-body purse over her head.
“What?” All of us, including the chef, ask in unison.
Kendall sighs. “Leah doesn’t like hibachi. George is allergic. Violet has to wait for her meal. I’m not the biggest fan of hibachi myself. Let’s go somewhere that we can all be happy.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Leah says happily, bouncing to her feet and grabbing her wristlet. “Let’s check out that English pub by the indoor pool. It looked cool.”
“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Kendall replies. “I love pubs! They’re so...what’s the word?”
“Dark and creepy?” Francine supplies.
“No, silly,” Kendall says, swatting Francine in the arm. “Like tiny and adorable?”
“Quaint?” I offer.
“Yeah. Quaint!” Kendall loops her arm through Leah’s, and together they bound off, leaving George, Francine, and me staring at each other. And the chef. Who definitely does not look pleased.
“Um, I guess we’re leaving,” I say with a shrug.
“It takes a long time to heat up this grill!” the chef bellows, knife in hand. “And for nothing!”
“Let’s get out of here before he throws something sharp at us,” George whispers to me, eyes wide.
The chef is still yelling and shaking the knife at us as we duck out of the restaurant, following behind Leah and Kendall.
“I guess they’re leading the way,” George says.
“What else is new?” Francine and I say at the exact same time.
We look at each other and burst out laughing.
“I feel like we’re living parallel lives with the same best friend,” Francine says.
I nod. “I have to admit. They are eerily similar. That’s probably why they get along so well.”
“But whatever will they do when they find out they can’t boss each other around?” Francine asks with an arched eyebrow.
“They will still have us to boss around,” I reply. And then I realize I have just insulted Francine and called her a pushover. “Well, I mean, at least Leah has me to boss around. I’m not implying that Kendall bosses you around,” I stammer.
“Oh, she does,” Francine says. “Or at least,” she pulls me close to her, “she did. I think between the two of us, we are done being bossed around.”
I stare at her incredulously. Not be bossed around by Leah? What madness is this?
“You know what, Francine? I like the sound of that.”
We start laughing again as we trail behind them, leaving George to follow us—probably wondering what he’s gotten himself into by having dinner with four crazy women.
LEAH
“And then she ran away with the personal trainer, never to be heard from again. Well...not quite. I hear from her monthly if the child support payment is thirty seconds late.”
George is regaling us with the details of his super messy divorce. Actually, that seems to be the theme of our dinner conversation tonight—Super Messy Divorce Tales. Vi and I have been glancing over at each other throughout the course of the meal, hoping that no one will ask us about our divorce horror stories. Although, I’ve got a good one in my head if they do. My husband turned out to be an escaped convict who ended up going back to prison. Vi will probably faint dead away if I tell that one. And if anyone asks her, she’ll just break. That’s why I need to steer the conversation away from divorce.
“So tomorrow we’ll be docked all day. What’s everyone have planned?” I ask. “We need some adventure!”
“I wasn’t planning on much,” George says with a shrug. “Just some relaxation.”
“Francine and I are going snorkeling. The cruise line is taking out several boats and bringing snorkeling gear. There’s going to be a bar and a DJ on each of them. You all should join us! It’s going to be a blast!” Kendall tells us happily.
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to try snorkeling!” Vi says, clapping her hands together. “We’ll do that for sure, right Leah?”
She elbows me and it takes all my strength to smile and say, “Yeah, of course”, even though there is nothing I’d like to do less than snorkeling. My fear of the ocean definitely extends to the idea of floating in the middle of it with nothing but a face mask with a tiny tube attached to it for breathing.
There is no way I am going to be able to snorkel. But there
is also no way I am going to let anyone know that I am not going to snorkel. I will have to find some other way to get out of tomorrow’s adventure.
Before I can even contemplate my escape options, Kendall starts asking me about my date with Nick this afternoon. My face flushes, not unlike the way it did when Vi asked me the same question earlier. I feel my pulse quickening—I’m not sure if it’s from the thought of Nick, or from the sickening thought of snorkeling tomorrow.
“Ooo, I think you like him,” Kendall says.
“He’s a nice guy,” I say, watching George cringe. “What? What’s wrong?”
“That’s the kiss of death for a guy to hear. Being told you’re a nice guy means that the woman is not interested in you at all.”
“Kind of like a woman who has a great personality is ugly?” volunteers Francine.
George blushes. “I think I’ve only used those words to describe a woman once. And she did have a great personality. She was also a lesbian, so I don’t think I was offending her by saying she had a great personality, because I didn’t stand a chance with her anyway—”
“Was she hot?” Kendall asks with a smirk.
“Well, not in the traditional sense of the word—”
“I rest my case,” Francine says, tenting her fingers together.
“But it’s not really like that,” I insist. “I am interested in him. I’m just stating the fact that he is a nice guy. He’s also very hot.”
“He must have some fatal flaw,” Kendall offers. “A nice guy that’s hot and available? He’s got to be a serial killer.”
“He’s not a—”
“Or he has a secret family stashed away somewhere,” Francine pipes in.
“I know about his—”
“He could like wearing ladies’ underwear,” says Kendall.
“Now that’s ridiculous—”
“Maybe he’s really a woman,” Vi says, eyes widening.
“Vi, don’t start this—”
“Or he only sleeps in the nude,” says George, getting into the conversation.
“How is that a problem?” I ask.
“Yeah, really George,” Kendall says with a scoff.
“Note to self, women like to sleep with naked guys,” George muses, probably not realizing the double meaning of that statement.
“Or he’s broke and wants your money,” Francine says grumpily.
Oh well, that could be the problem.
“Listen, we’re just having fun. I doubt highly that I will see him again after the cruise, so stop being a bunch of buzzkills.”
I don’t mention the fact that if I don’t see him after this cruise, I may consider it the first time my heart’s been broken. In my adult life, that is.
“Hi, everyone.” I hear a familiar voice behind me.
Is that who I think it is? Based on the fact that Violet’s face is indeed violet right now, I am certain that Nick is standing behind my chair.
Oh God. I hope he didn’t hear what I just said. How long has he been standing there? Could he have overheard me calling him hot? Or worse, did he hear me call him a nice guy? Oh God, I wish the floor would just swallow me up right now.
Taking a deep breath and putting on my best game face, I turn around. “Well, hello, Nick.”
I hear both Francine and Kendall gasp. I really, really hope Nick didn’t hear them. Or at least, he thinks they’re gasping at his hotness or something. Not gasping because we were just talking about him and my feelings toward him and oh, the fact that he’s dressed as a crew member and I forgot to mention to them that he works on the ship and isn’t a doctor.
“Hey,” he says with a devastatingly handsome grin that makes me lightheaded. “I saw you sitting here and I thought I’d say hi.”
“Um, hi,” I say with a nervous giggle.
Christ, Leah, you sound like an air-headed teenager. Get it together!
Nick leans closer to my ear and I swear that the rest of the table collectively leans closer as well—I can feel Kendall literally breathing on my neck.
“I really enjoyed our afternoon together,” Nick whispers. His breath is hot on my skin, yet it causes ripples of goosebumps to erupt up and down my body. It’s insane—my nipples could cut glass. Oh God. This man is going to torture me.
“Um, yeah, me, too,” I manage to squeak out in stilted syllables.
He’s seriously going to think you’re a moron, Leah. Could you act like a human? Act like you did this afternoon when you were together, talking about your lives. When he kissed you under the waterfall.
That is probably the wrong choice of imagery to summon to mind—the goosebumps give way to shivers. I find myself leaning closer to his face. His body is radiating heat, drawing me closer, like a magnet. I inhale deeply—his body wash or cologne or whatever it is, is intoxicating, lulling me into a sense of—
“Are you going to introduce your friend?” Kendall asks with a syrupy voice, pulling me back to reality.
“Uh, yeah, of course,” I say, straightening up in my chair. Nick also stands tall and offers my friends a smile.
“I’m Nick. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, the infamous Nick,” Kendall coos. I resist the urge to kick her under the table, but I see Vi lurch in her seat and Kendall recoil. If I’m not mistaken, Vi has kicked her for me.
“Um, I don’t know how infamous I am. I hope I’m not infamous at all,” Nick says with a nervous chuckle.
“Huh?”
Kendall is perplexed until Francine leans in to explain, “You mean famous. Infamous is not really a good thing.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, this is Nick, everyone,” I say, regaining my composure. “Nick was just leaving.”
“I was?”
I clamor to my feet and take his arm. “Yes. You were.” I practically drag him away from the table as my friends wave at his back. When we are a safe distance away—out of earshot of Kendall, at least—I stop.
“I’m sorry about that. They’re kind of nosy. And overly curious.”
“That’s fine,” Nick says with a shrug. “I don’t mind talking to them.”
But I mind you talking to them.
“So what are you doing here? I thought you were working in the main dining room tonight.” I really hope he doesn’t think I’m stalking him or following him. That reeks of desperation. And I am definitely not desperate. Just infatuated maybe.
“I was. I just finished my shift. But Terry got a migraine, so he asked me to cover the rest of his shift here in the pub. He’ll owe me one, of course.”
“That’s good. I guess.”
Nick nods. “Yes. I’m going to ask him to cover part of my shift on the last night. That way I can have dinner with you again.”
I must be blushing because Nick reaches out and pushes a lock of hair off my face. “Pink’s a lovely shade on you,” he says teasingly.
I can’t even respond. Probably because I’m chewing on my lip, trying to stay vertical, and not stammer like a fool.
What is this guy doing to me? Why can’t I pull myself together in his presence?
“So anyway, I’ll let you get back to your friends. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m not sure what I’m doing tomorrow yet?” I reply, making my statement sound like a question. Stop with the air-head routine, Leah! “I mean, we haven’t planned out our day,” I clarify, tucking that same lock of hair behind my ear and vowing never to cut it again in my entire life.
“Well, if you’re into snorkeling, I’m going to be on one of the boats taking the snorkelers out tomorrow. Although, I never understood why they would offer alcohol to people who are basically holding their breath underwater for fun.”
Uh, what now? He’ll be on the boat? Crap. I have to go now. If only to keep him from Kendall. Damn it!
“That sounds fun,” I tell him with cheeriness that I do not feel at all. “I’ll be there.”
I turn on my heel and rush back to the table before I can kic
k myself in the ass.
LEAH
The boat is rocking side to side—mostly because the DJ is cranking up the bass and people are attempting to dance on this boat that is no bigger than an SUV. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating slightly, but this is definitely not what I was envisioning when I was told the boat taking us to snorkel would have a DJ and a bar. I thought the boat would actually be big enough to hold us and a DJ and a bar.
Instead, we’re crammed in like sardines while this guy at the front of the boat plays with his boom box, and Nick sits at the back of the boat with a pitcher of rum punch and a stack of paper cups.
The size of the boat is not helping allay my fears of this whole snorkeling project. I’m currently squeezed in between Vi and Kendall, clutching the straps of my life preserver, while attempting to remember what the captain said when he instructed us on how to use the face mask.
Just breathe, Leah. Breathe. That’s the important thing. It can’t be so difficult to breathe. You’ve been doing it your whole life without a problem. Except for that time in fifth grade when you got diagnosed with asthma after running the 50 yard dash. That wasn’t fun.
“You want some?” I look up and see Nick holding out a cup of the rum punch to me. He is also practically naked in a sleeveless T-shirt and a bathing suit. Whatever air I was hoping to breathe seems to get sucked out of my lungs from seeing him standing before me like that, with a loaded question...bearing alcohol nonetheless.
“I’m good,” I squeak. If I can’t breathe on the boat, how am I going to breathe off the boat? I definitely do not want to impair myself any further on this journey by adding alcohol to the mix. “It’s early.”
“It’s never too early for rum punch,” Kendall says, greedily taking the cup from Nick’s outstretched hand. “Rum punch is the breakfast beverage of choice here on the islands.”
Best Friends & Other Liars Page 21
