The Longest Holiday

by Paige Toon

  I’m still feeling jittery that night when we’re on the boat, heading out into open water. The sun has already sunk below the horizon, but it’s not quite dark. There are five other divers, along with Jorge, Leo, Tegan and another man, introduced by Jorge as Bernard, who is piloting the boat tonight. Leo sits opposite me at the back of the boat, his elbows resting on his knees. But neither of us says anything as we zoom away from the shore. By the time we reach the reef, my jittery feeling has intensified, but now it’s because of the dive. We’re already kitted out in our wetsuits – full body ones tonight – but once we moor up, we have to put the rest of our equipment on.

  ‘You okay?’ Leo asks me in a low voice as he helps me put on my jacket.

  ‘I’m nervous,’ I admit, fastening the straps.

  ‘Don’t be,’ he says seriously, putting his hands on my arms from behind. He turns me around to face him and we go through the buddy routine without saying much at all. He follows me down to the platform. We’re the second couple to enter the water.

  ‘You want me to go first?’ Leo asks.

  ‘Please.’ I nod.

  He takes a large stride into the water and gives me – and Bernard and Tegan – the okay sign.

  ‘Come on,’ he encourages, as he bobs in the waves. I take a large step and splash into the dark ocean, having no idea what lurks beneath in the blackness. This is surely the most nuts thing I’ve ever done.

  And then Leo takes my hand in his. ‘Okay?’

  I nod and turn to give the sign to Tegan and Bernard.

  ‘Follow the rope down.’ Leo lifts his BCD inflator button out of the water and presses it to deflate. I do the same, trying not to freak out as my head sinks below the water. There’s a light hanging under the boat, and it glows eerily in the dark as we slowly make our way down the length of the rope to the soft sand below. Finally Jorge joins us and we set off as a group, staying close to our buddies. Jorge, Leo and a couple of the others have torches, and the light streams unnaturally through the black water. The others inflate their BCDs to swim over the reef, but Leo taps my arm and indicates that he wants to go left. I watch with slight panic as the larger group swims away, but one look at Leo and I know I’ll follow him anywhere.

  The reef looks more alien at night, the coral brighter under the light of his torch. He shines his light into crevices, showing me shoals of brightly coloured fish sleepily moving to and fro with the current. He moves on further, keeping close to the sand so we’re going around the edge of the reef, highlighting more fish in the darkness. I begin to relax and am filled with wonder. I’m no longer scared. And then suddenly he stops, his hand on my arm. I follow the light of his torch to see a shoal of barracuda hovering about four metres in front of us. My pulse speeds up at the sight of the fearsome razor-toothed fish, and then Leo’s torchlight slides slowly upwards, and there, above them, is a large, stationary reef shark. I begin to breathe more heavily as my core fills with fright. Leo takes my hand and squeezes it. I can’t tear my eyes away from the view in front of me. I’m scared, so scared. Out of the corner of my eye I can see lights flashing as the others swim across the reef, oblivious. Yet here I am, alone, with Leo. No, not alone. With a dozen man-munching creatures. I could die here, in the dark. Just because I fancy him enough to follow him anywhere. I’m an idiot.

  Leo turns and, still holding my hand, leads me back the way we came. My heart is in my mouth as I imagine them snapping at my heels. Then he points towards the reef and inflates slightly. What? Where is he going? Surely we’re getting the hell out of here? But, no! He wants me to follow him across the reef. I shake my head and he looks confused. I point upwards. I’m going back to the boat, buster. He shakes his head at me, then points obstinately towards the reef.

  Argh! Where’s the rope? I can’t get back to the boat without it – I wouldn’t dare. Would Tegan and Bernard see me in the dark if I popped up anywhere? Leo nods towards the reef and gives me the okay sign. Bollocks. I nod unhappily and inflate a little. A moment later, my hand is in his again. He squeezes hard and I squeeze back, starting to relax once more as he picks up a sea star and offers it to me to touch. We even see a lobster lurking behind some rocks, but I practically jump out of my wetsuit when an eel slithers out from beside it. By the time we reach the rope, where some of the others are already waiting, I’m actually disappointed that the dive is over. This feeling intensifies once we’re safely back on the boat, the emphasis on safe. I’m alive! And that was amazing!

  ‘How was that?’ Leo asks me with a huge grin.

  ‘Incredible,’ I breathe.

  ‘Those barracuda!’ he exclaims.

  ‘And that shark!’ I cry. It didn’t kill me! Yay.

  ‘You made me laugh when you jumped at the eel,’ he says.

  I giggle. ‘That was funny.’ Less funny at the time.

  As he shrugs himself out of his BCD then helps me with mine, and I unclick my weight belt, we continue to excitedly dissect the dive and everything we saw.

  ‘Good dive?’ Jorge asks with a smile as he climbs aboard.

  ‘Great,’ Leo replies. ‘We saw a huge shoal of barracuda, with a reef shark hovering a few feet above it.’

  ‘No shit?’ Jorge says. ‘You always see the best stuff.’

  ‘You mean that was good?’ I joke. ‘I was terrified.’

  Jorge laughs and Leo wraps his arm around my shoulders and squeezes me quickly but affectionately before letting me go. ‘You’ll never forget it, though.’

  No. That’s true. I’ll never forget that, as long as I live.

  ‘We’re going to Miami . . .’

  It’s Will Smith again! But this time I’m in high spirits. I start to bop along enthusiastically to the song playing on the radio and then reach over to put the volume up. Leo slaps my hand away.

  ‘Turn this shit off,’ he berates, changing the channel.

  ‘You are no fun at all,’ I tease as he settles on Kings of Leon. ‘Are you always this controlling?’

  ‘You call this controlling?’ He flashes me a look.

  ‘You mean you get worse?’ I tut at him. ‘How do your girlfriends cope?’

  This question makes me feel oddly dizzy.

  ‘Girlfriends?’ he scoffs.

  ‘Yeah, you know, girls who are friends,’ I say drily.

  ‘I don’t have any girls who are friends,’ he says slightly crossly.

  ‘Carmen’s a friend, isn’t she?’

  ‘Carmen is my sister-in-law. Ex-sister-in-law,’ he corrects. ‘And she’s a pain in the arse.’

  ‘What about me? I’m a friend, aren’t I?’

  ‘Hmm.’ He grunts, but his reply makes me grin. I haven’t stopped smiling since we got in the car almost three hours ago.

  ‘So you don’t have a girlfriend, then?’ I try to keep my voice sounding level.

  ‘No!’ he snaps, huffing. My insides swell with joy. I didn’t think he did, but really, what would I know? ‘You talk too much,’ he adds.

  I look out of the window as the roads grow wider and the cars move faster. We pass the first of what I remember to be many McDonald’s.

  Carmen was taken aback to hear that Leo and I were going up to Miami together. I think even Jorge was a little surprised, although he did a better job of not showing it. I thought he might have chosen to tag along. I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that he didn’t. I’m on my own with Leo for a whole weekend and I’m a little bit excited, a whole lot nervous, and slightly concerned that Jorge thinks he might be the third in three’s a crowd. I hope he doesn’t believe there’s more to this than meets the eye. Fantasising about Leo is one thing; actually making that fantasy a reality is a whole different ballgame, I tell myself gravely. And then I imagine his lips on mine and an illicit thrill goes through me.

  I never did make it to the Wynwood district on the morning of my almost-departure. Marty chose to go shopping, and I was feeling so down about leaving that I just went along with her, but didn’t buy a thing.
/>   The Walls are incredible. Leo takes me for a quick tour before we go to his place, explaining that back in 2009 a renowned community revitaliser called Tony Goldman had a vision to make giant canvases out of Wynwood’s large stock of windowless warehouses, bringing together the greatest street art ever seen in one place. Everywhere I look buildings have been painted with striking images: black and white graphics, like a zebra; a literal rat race, with rats chasing each other through a maze; a huge face of a man, coloured red.

  ‘This is amazing!’ I exclaim, feeling bad that I didn’t make more of an effort to bring Marty here. I think she would have liked it.

  After a while, Leo does a U-turn and heads back the way we came. Soon we’re pulling up outside his slightly run-down apartment block. Slightly is putting it mildly – it’s a total mess from the outside. I know it’s the threat of the unknown, because I have never stayed anywhere like this before, but I feel uneasy. Then I remember who I’m with.

  ‘This is home,’ Leo says, climbing out of the car.

  ‘It’s . . . nice,’ I reply weakly, as he gets our bags out of the boot.

  ‘I bet it’s a side of Miami you haven’t seen before,’ he teases.

  ‘You’re right. Not that I liked the glitzy side,’ I tell him, although I’m not sure he’s convinced. I’m not sure I’m convinced, actually. In comparison . . .

  I follow him up the external staircase to the second floor. There’s a small balcony at the front of every apartment; some have old office chairs rotting outside, others have mostly dead plants, and there’s some washing hanging out here and there. Leo has a couple of chairs and they’re not too shabby. He unlocks the door and pushes it open for me to enter. It’s dark inside. The curtains are drawn, so the first thing he does after gathering up the post pile is pull them back to let in the sunshine. I look around and a smile forms on my face. Retro is the only way to describe it, with a couple of battered brown leather sofas, a wooden coffee table and a swirly orange and brown carpet. He has some cool graffiti art hanging on his walls, and the kitchen is small but clean.

  ‘You can sleep in the bedroom,’ he says, taking my bag through there. I follow him, but regret it when I see how small the room is: the double bed dominates the space, and I have to take a few awkward steps backwards.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ he asks with a raised eyebrow as he follows me slowly into the living room. The back of my knees bump into the sofa, causing me to sit down. I’m in his space, now, his masculine sexy space, and the effect is overpowering.

  We head into Miami to pick up what we came to get in the first place: a brand-new, shiny, whizz-bang Apple MacBook for yours truly. I’m excited about heading back to Key West to set it up, but we have a night out in Miami first, and Leo has vowed not to take me anywhere touristy. I have no idea what’s in store, so I choose the safest, most dependable outfit I have, in the safest most dependable colour: black. Black skinny jeans and a tight black top, with heavy gunmetal-hued eye make-up and neutral lipstick. I blow-dried my hair this morning in anticipation, so I don’t have to do anything with it. I get ready in Leo’s bathroom, which has room for a shower, toilet and basin, but nothing else – so I have to hop around in a tiny circle as I pull on my jeans. I have a quick peek in his bathroom cabinet, but find only his shaving equipment, deodorant and some headache tablets – nothing interesting, although the latter might come in useful later. I emerge to find him standing in the middle of the living room wearing a khaki T-shirt and black cargo pants. I flash him a small smile and he looks amused, but doesn’t take his eyes away from mine as I walk towards him.

  ‘Drink?’ he asks, picking up two glasses from the coffee table and handing one over.

  ‘Thanks. Cheers.’ I chink his glass and put mine to my lips. ‘What is it?’ I ask, before taking a drink.

  ‘Vodka and lemon. I don’t have any cranberry.’

  I grin at him and take a sip. I switched to vodka and cranberry a couple of nights ago after my horrible wine hangover earlier in the week.

  ‘My friend Drew will be here soon.’

  ‘Drew?’

  ‘He’s driving tonight.’

  ‘Oh! Great.’ I hadn’t thought about that. I’m glad Leo will be drinking with me.

  When Drew turns up, I’m already feeling slightly tipsy. He’s black with short braids, a grey T-shirt and weathered jeans. He reminds me of a young Lenny Kravitz.

  ‘Drew is a street artist,’ Leo tells me, nodding at the pictures on his walls.

  ‘Are you?’ I ask, impressed. ‘Did you do these?’

  He shrugs. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I had to persuade him to work with smaller canvases,’ Leo says wryly, and I glance at Drew to see him rolling his eyes.

  ‘He has a way of persuading people to do things they don’t really want to do,’ he tells me with a grin. ‘Watch out for him.’ I laugh and Leo punches him on his arm. ‘Ow!’

  ‘Laura saw the Walls today,’ Leo says, moving away from what was proving to be a greatly intriguing subject.

  ‘What did you think?’ Drew asks me.

  ‘One of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.’ He nods, seeming pleased with my reaction.

  I move closer to study one of the abstract paintings. I soon realise that what I’m looking at is a swarm of bees, which are small and realistic in the background, becoming brightly coloured and grotesquely comical as they come to the forefront. Something about them appeals to me.

  ‘I really like these,’ I say with a smile.

  Later we end up in a dingy basement bar with exposed brickwork and a DJ playing on decks in the corner. A few of Leo and Drew’s friends join us, and they’re an interesting, diverse crowd. Initially I’m worried that I look out of place, but soon the vodka sinks in and I no longer care. Drew has a great sense of humour and I’m in stitches a few times, namely when he’s teasing Leo. They’re obviously good mates and go way back. Leo is different with Drew than with Jorge. With Jorge he’s more laid-back, with Drew more dynamic, more upbeat. As the night wears on, I become vaguely aware that Drew has started flirting with me. He puts his hand on my cheek to hold me close so he can speak into my ear.

  ‘Why do you want to go back to Key West when you can have Miami?’ he asks me, his lips brushing against my ear. I like him enough, although not in that way, for it not to be deeply unpleasant.

  ‘I like Key West,’ I tell him, pulling away slightly to look him in the eye.

  ‘Yeah, but nothing beats Miami,’ he tries to convince me.

  I screw up my nose.

  ‘What? You don’t like this?’ He gestures around him.

  ‘Yeah,’ I admit, ‘this place is wicked, but . . .’ My voice trails off and I look around, suddenly realising Leo is not with us. ‘Where’s Leo?’ I ask with alarm.

  Drew shrugs. ‘Probably gone to take a leak. So what do you reckon about staying a few more days, checking out Miami? I can put you up.’

  I’m too distracted to reply, as I search the room. And then I see him pushing back through the crowd. His eyes meet mine and I feel such a thrill that I can’t take in what Drew is saying to me.

  ‘Sorry?’ I ask him weakly, not taking my eyes from Leo as Drew pulls me closer to speak into my ear again. Leo’s gaze flickers towards Drew and his expression seems to harden – but maybe it’s just the alcohol messing with my mind. Out of nowhere, a girl steps in front of Leo and puts her hand on his chest. He looks taken aback. I can’t see her face, but she’s petite and has shiny, dark-brown, ringletted curls and my imagination convinces me that she’s absolutely beautiful. She reaches up to hold his face as she kisses both cheeks. Leo’s eyes flit past her to Drew and me, but she doesn’t take her hands from his face, bringing his attention back to her. I feel a sharp pang of jealousy.

  ‘Laura!’ Drew laughs, snapping me back to my immediate surroundings. ‘Man, you’re not listening to a word I’m saying.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I shake my head abruptly, but can’t give him my full atte
ntion. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Oh, never mind. Aah,’ he says knowingly, looking over his shoulder and spying Leo.

  ‘What?’ I ask quickly. ‘Who is she?’

  ‘Ashlee,’ Drew enlightens me. ‘Leo’s ex.’

  ‘She was his girlfriend?’ My stomach swirls with dread as I watch Leo try to move past her. She draws him back, but now I can see her side profile and my suspicions were correct. She’s stunning, with a pretty turned-up nose and a sprinkling of freckles. She’s smiling as she stares up at Leo, but I notice with relief that he still looks annoyed. He says something to her and nods towards Drew and me. Her eyes dart between us and her brow furrows. Leo breaks away and comes over. Drew is leaning up against the bar, his shoulder pressing against mine, but then Leo’s hand breaks contact between us as he pushes past Drew to retrieve his beer from the bar. He takes a swig and looks irritated.

  ‘Drew,’ Ashlee says, acknowledging him with a nod. She doesn’t look too pleased to see him.

  ‘Ashlee,’ he replies. The feeling, it seems, is mutual.

  She turns to me, cocking her head to one side. ‘I’m Ashlee.’

  ‘Hi,’ I say, holding out my hand for her to shake. ‘Laura.’

  ‘Are you going to buy me a drink, Leonardo?’ she asks meaningfully, not taking her eyes from mine.

  Leo turns and holds his hand up to the bartender.

  ‘So—’ she starts.

  ‘How’s it going, Ashlee?’ Drew interrupts, not seeming quite as relaxed as he did before.

  ‘Oh, you know, Drew,’ she replies casually. ‘Same as always. I wasn’t expecting to see Leo back this weekend.’ She’s speaking to him, but regarding me.

  ‘I only got the call yesterday,’ Drew tells her.

  ‘At least you got the call,’ she says drily. ‘Not saying it’s not a nice surprise. So . . .’ she starts again, and I just know she’s dying to find out what my relationship is with Leo.

  Before she can ask her question, Leo is shoving a drink into her hand. The bar is packed, so God knows how he got served so quickly. ‘Here,’ he snaps. It’s something crystal clear and sparkling, on ice.