by Erin Noelle
She shakes her head, breathing hard, and lightly shoves my shoulders. “No, I want to go see the falls and gardens, but don’t expect to sleep much tonight.”
Laughing softly, I adjust myself in my shorts and step back so she can slide down. “Not a problem, that’s what the plane ride is for tomorrow.”
Her face falls at the mention of our departure, matching my own thoughts. Immediately, I pull her back into my arms, this time in more of a comforting gesture than sexual, wishing I could take the words back. “Let’s not think about tomorrow yet.” I kiss the top of her head. “Let’s enjoy today.”
“Yeah, let’s enjoy today,” she repeats softly.
Because today’s all we’ve got left.
“TODAY HAS BEEN INCREDIBLE, like something I’ve only thought happened in the movies.” I beam across the table at Davis. We’ve just sat down for dinner at a fancy waterfront restaurant in Marigot Bay, the perfect ending to the perfect day he planned for us. “I really can’t thank you enough for everything.”
He flashes me a genuine deep-dimpled grin, my favorite, and unrolls the cloth napkin, setting out his silverware in the proper arrangement. “I’m hoping you’re talking about a romantic chick flick and not a horror movie or one of those where everyone dies in the end,” he jokes.
I laugh and do the same with my napkin and utensils, following his lead. “Of course I am, silly.”
“Hey, you never know.” He reaches out with both of his hands atop the white tablecloth and takes mine in his. “I’ll gladly remind you that we both have favorite movies where pretty much every one dies at the end.”
My head cocks to the side, realizing he’s right. “Hmph. I didn’t even think about that. I just thought we were both big DiCaprio fans,” I tease. “Plus, mine is one of the highest-rated romantic movies of all times.”
“But it was far from a happily-ever-after.”
“True,” I sigh, “but maybe it’s not always about the happy ending; maybe it’s about the beauty of the story.” My heart sinks as my own words hit way too close to home, and based on the pained expression that flickers in his eyes, the double entendre isn’t lost on him either.
“Maybe,” Davis says lowly, turning his head to stare at the bay through the window, then adds, “maybe not.”
I take a drink from the glass of water sitting in front of me to soothe the sudden scratchiness in the back of my throat, thankful as the server finally approaches the table for our drink and food order.
Davis refocuses his attention towards me and offers an apologetic smile. “So what was your favorite part of today?” he asks, and just like that, the somberness that briefly joined us at the table leaves and we’re back to us.
“The waterfall definitely,” I answer emphatically. “It was like something out of a mystical fairy tale. I kept expecting unicorns to appear or something.”
“Unicorns?” He cackles. “And I was hoping for topless mermaids to emerge when we were swimming in the mineral baths.”
“Of course you were.” I immaturely stick my tongue out, just as the server returns with the bottle of wine we ordered and our fried calamari appetizer.
The rest of the meal is more than pleasurable. Tasty food, delicious wine, and a pure, untainted dose of Davis make for an unforgettable final evening together. We talk about everything and nothing, laugh until we cry, and pick on each other relentlessly. It’s by far been the best day of my life.
After our dishes have been cleaned, glasses have been emptied, and the bill has been paid, we lazily stroll down to the dock to board the water taxi waiting to take us back to the resort. As the small engine putters to life and we pull out in the open water for the return trip, Davis pulls me close to him, protecting me from the whipping wind and allowing me to rest comfortably against his chest in an intimate embrace.
“What time does your flight leave tomorrow?” My body physically cringes as the question spills from my lips.
“I thought we weren’t worrying about tomorrow until tomorrow?” he grumbles, releasing his hold on me.
I slump into the seat away from him, with a discontented grumble of my own. “I just wanted to know how early you had to get up, or if maybe we were on the same flight back. We can’t pretend it’s not going to happen, Davis.”
“My flight is at eleven-forty-five,” he replies crossly, pausing as he rubs his hand over his five o’clock shadow. “What about you?”
“Ten-thirty,” I murmur, angry at myself for ruining the vibe we had going. “I scheduled for Dr. Secret to pick me up at eight.”
That’s the end of the conversation. He offers nothing, and I’m afraid to talk.
When the small boat pulls up on the shore of Ti Kaye, we both thank the driver before disembarking onto the sandy beach, still keeping our distance from one another. Neither of us says anything as we trek up the vast staircase for the last time, and the silence remains all the way down the short path to our cottages. We stop outside his place and stand there, staring into each other’s anguished eyes.
I’m nervous. Nervous he’s mad at me. Nervous he doesn’t want to spend our last night together. Nervous this moment will be the last time I see him.
“Davis,” I begin, “I’m sor—”
“Stop,” he cuts me off, swallowing up the distance between us in a single stride. He lifts one hand to my mouth, pressing his forefinger against my lips to shush me. “I don’t want to waste another minute arguing with you or us not being us. Stay the night with me, and I’ll ride with you to the airport in the morning.”
“But you’ll be there too early,” I mumble against his finger, which hasn’t budged.
“So,” he shrugs his shoulders and gives me a small smile, “I don’t want to be here at the resort without you. I’d rather be there.”
I decide to press my luck. I can only hope for no whammies. “And once we get home? Will we ever talk again, or do we pretend this never happened?”
His hands find my hips as he lowers his forehead to mine. “I could never pretend this didn’t happen. The effect you have on me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”
Here comes the ‘but’. I feel its unwelcome presence before he ever says it.
“But I’m a different person back home than I am here. I’m sad, and angry, and usually a moody bastard. I live at home with my parents, where I don’t work, or go to school, or have any goals in life but to be a bum.” My heart breaks for him and the lack of self-worth he has. I wish he could see what I see in him. “I’m no good for you, Bristol. I can only cause you pain and bring you down. Believe me. You deserve someone with so much more than I have to offer.”
“Why won’t you try to make something of yourself?” I plead. “Not for me . . . for you, because you deserve it. You’re just taking the easy way out.”
“Bristol, please,” he raises one hand to cradle my cheek, “I don’t want to do this tonight. Please come inside with me and let me worship your body one last time.”
I should say no. I should insist he not give up on himself. I should walk away to make a very powerful point.
But I don’t. Because I can’t. Because this is our last night together. Because this is the last time I’ll ever wake up in his arms. Because I’m afraid he wouldn’t chase after me. And that would devastate me.
Eight o’clock comes way too early. Dr. Secret is on time, waiting in the white car he had the day we first arrived.
I’ve already made the rounds saying goodbye to Isaac, Kayden, Ashleigh, and Charlotte, shedding more than a few bittersweet tears. They’re all not scheduled to leave until later in the afternoon, but I know within a few days we’ll all be chatting online like we always do. I’m so happy I got the opportunity to meet each of them in person, even if I didn’t spend as much time with them as I’d originally planned.
Davis loads our suitcases in the trunk and then the two of us slide into the back of the car. I watch out the window as we pull away from the quaint white cottages a
nd breathtaking landscape, saying my silent goodbyes to a place I may never visit again, but will surely never forget.
We never break physical contact throughout the hour long drive. Our fingers are interlaced, our knees relaxing against one another, and my head resting with ease on his shoulder. Every so often, he’ll tenderly kiss my forehead or my hair, but words are lost between us.
Dr. Secret seems to pick up on our melancholy mood, and instead of engaging us in conversation, he turns the radio on to fill the silence—country, of course. After a few upbeat numbers play, the Rascal Flatts’ hit I Won’t Let Go comes on and it nearly breaks me apart. It takes everything I have not to start crying in the backseat as the lyrics of the song say everything I want to say to Davis, but am too afraid to.
So I do the next best thing and I sing them to him. Quietly. Against his chest. Indirectly. Purposefully. Pleadingly.
He squeezes my hand and I know the message has been received, but I also know it won’t make any difference. Today, I’m losing the first person I’ve ever fallen in love with. In a matter of a couple of hours, he’ll no longer be a part of my life. And there’s nothing I can do about it.
We pull up in front of the small airport, a real looking one this time, with fully enclosed walls, an actual door, and signs that look somewhat legit. Dr. Secret helps Davis retrieve the luggage and sets it down on the curb before turning to me and scooping me up in a big hug. I squeeze his neck tightly, not sure why it feels as if I’m saying goodbye to a longtime friend.
“You make sure he still has fun when you guys get home,” he whispers in my ear, then sets me back down on the ground.
“Thank you for visiting our island. I hope you both find your way back here,” he says aloud as he and Davis exchange some guy handshake thing, then pat each other’s back.
“We appreciate all your help, man,” Davis says with a big smile, “and we’ll definitely try.” With our suitcases in tow, we turn around and head inside to check in for our flights and face the ending that’s been waiting for us all along.
The lines are short and it takes hardly any time at all to get our bags checked and our boarding passes in our hands. Arm-in-arm, Davis and I then stroll into the one and only waiting area, where there are a few shops and restaurants scattered about. We loiter around, grabbing a muffin and coffee as we browse through the souvenirs, both of us dreading what will soon be the end.
When they announce boarding for my flight, my stomach freefalls into what feels like a bottomless pit, my feet turn into heavy weights that I’m unable to move, and my throat swells shut. My glassy eyes dart to find his, the tears already pooling in the creases, and I see they’re in his too. I know exactly which “airport people” category we fall in right now.
Davis pulls me over into a corner, giving us a little bit of privacy, and then wraps his strong arms around my thin body, crushing me against his chest. He’s holding me so tightly it physically hurts, but I don’t care, because it means I can still feel him.
I loop my arms around his shoulders and bury my face into his neck, streams of uncontrollable tears cascading down my cheeks and splashing against his skin.
His hands stroke up and down my back, tangling in my hair as he nudges the side of my face with his nose, getting me to look up at him.
Our mouths collide in an impassioned kiss, ardent lips and tongues frantically claiming, shattered souls desperately clinging.
We break apart, breathless and broken as our eyes say everything neither of us wants to.
After he hands me a lumpy envelope from his backpack, he looks down at the ground, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Open that once you’re up in the air, okay?”
I draw in a shaky breath as I take it from him and nod. “Okay,” I hiccup through my sobs.
The final boarding call is announced and I have to go.
He hugs me one last time. Kisses me one last time. Touches my face one last time.
“I’ll never forget, Bristol,” he whispers.
“Neither will I.”
I walk away without looking back, somehow managing to find my seat on the plane. It’s by the window and I don’t care. I don’t have the energy. The only thing I can focus on is the excruciating ripping sensation I feel from my head to my toes. I am wrecked to the core.
ONCE MY SEATBELT IS securely fastened, I sit and stare at the envelope in my lap. Teardrops continue to fall freely onto the white paper, smearing the ink where he’d written my name on the outside. I consider waiting until after we’ve taken off to open it, but I can’t any longer. I’m a glutton for punishment. With one swipe of my finger, I rip it open and pull out the folded piece of paper.
The waterworks return to full-blast as I dig into the bottom of the envelope to find a piece of tissue paper wrapped around a dainty, silver anklet with a single star charm on it. Unlike the handmade beaded necklace and bracelet he gave me the night of our sailing trip, which I’ve worn every day since, this is a fine-crafted piece of jewelry. I turn it over in my hands, admiring its beauty, when I notice the word “Trouble” engraved on the opposite side.
Overwhelmed with emotions, I look up just as the plane pulls away from the gate and glance over at the building. Davis is standing at the window, staring at the plane and waving goodbye. I know he can’t see me, but I wave goodbye and blow him a kiss anyway, silently promising us both this isn’t our ending.
FOR FOURTEEN LONG DAYS and fourteen longer nights, I’ve stumbled around in a hopeless daze, crying at the most random moments and refusing to leave Granny’s house. I have no appetite whatsoever, and I’ve slept more than a hibernating bear. I know I’m acting ridiculous; people get their heart broken every day, but I don’t care. It’s never happened to me before.
Naturally, Granny was thrilled for me to be home, though she did get on to me for not emailing enough and scaring the life out of her with the storm, as if I had something to do with its development. I haven’t told her all the details about what had happened, but she’s no fool. She knows what I’m going through, and to her credit, she’s done a great job of allowing me to wallow in my sorrows.
Today, however, I’m packing up my car and returning to Norman to get ready for the fall semester. It’s still a bit early, being the first weekend of August, but Alyvia and I are moving into our first apartment together—something we’ve talked about since we became inseparable at orientation last year. As freshmen, we were required to live in a dorm, and although we were in the same building, we both had different roommates assigned to us. Now, we’re finally able to have our own place without RAs breathing down our neck at our every move, and cranky roommates bitching about us keeping them awake.
Also, returning early allows me to get a start on the football workouts that start on Monday, and I need to be there to cover them for the paper; not to mention, I need to reclaim my waitressing job at Louie’s before they fill all the positions for this semester. I was excited about all of these things a month ago, but now I couldn’t give two shits about them. I just want to stay in bed at Granny’s forever.
My phone rings as I load the last box into the trunk. “Hey, Lyv,” I answer out of breath. “What’s up?”
“I sure hope that panting I hear is either because you’re packing up your car and on your way, or because you just finished a hot and sweaty goodbye fuck session with some cutie you met there over the summer,” she chuckles through the phone.
“We’re gonna go with the former,” I reply. “I should be leaving here in the next ten-to-fifteen minutes.”
“Awesome. I just picked up the keys, and all of the furniture Daddy bought for us should be delivered here in the next hour,” she says, reviewing the schedule we’ve discussed in detail already three times this week. “Then, tonight after we go grocery shopping and get set up, we’re going out to celebrate.”
I groan, slamming the trunk closed. The last thing I feel like doing is partying tonight. “Lyv, I’m going to be tired after driving and movi
ng all our shit. Can we go some other time?”
“Nope, absolutely not,” she snaps. “I haven’t seen you in nearly two months! And you’re also going to tell me the full story about what happened on your vacation. I know you’re holding out on me, woman! I may have a few stories to tell you about my trip, too.”
She giggles and I know without even hearing them they’re going to involve sex . . . lots of sex. Though I love my best friend dearly, she is not going to win any awards on innocence or celibacy. I would think she has a “daddy” issue, but in actuality, her father is the only person in her family who truly gives a damn about her. He sometimes goes about showing her in the wrong way, like by giving her free reign of his limitless lines of credit or taking her on month-long exotic vacations with his new family, but truthfully, he does love her dearly. It’s more than obvious when I spend time with them together.
“All right, sweets, let me tell Granny bye and I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
“’Kay, can’t wait to see your face!” she yells before hanging up.
I trudge back up to the house, where Granny is waiting on the porch with my purse. She smiles softly and pulls me in for a warm hug. “It will get better, Bristol,” she murmurs into my hair. “I know you don’t think it will, but everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.”
I nod, even though I don’t believe her. I can’t accept my parents were supposed to die or that anyone should ever hurt like I do right now. “I love you, Granny,” I say, pulling away. “I’ll let you know when I’m there safely.”
I pull into the parking lot of my and Alyvia’s new apartment a little after three-thirty. Finding a parking spot is rather easy, since it’s a Friday afternoon and most students won’t be returning for another couple of weeks. Giving Granny a quick call to let her know I’m there, I turn off the engine and climb out of the car.
