by Claire Adams
"I'm glad you had a good time."
"Is everything okay? How are you feeling?" It was routine at that point. She'd check in with me multiple times a day or when she felt I was off to make sure my symptoms weren't too bad.
"I'm fine. Just tired."
"Oh, well, that's too bad," she said walking over to me. She put a hand on my chest and another on my shoulder, running it down my arm. "I was hoping we could stay up a little while." She leaned in and kissed me.
"We shouldn't," I said. She looked up at me.
"Are you feeling sick?"
"No, Abby. I mean we need to stop. I think it would be better if you went back to work."
"My shift is over today. I don't have to leave until... Oh," she said, realizing what I meant.
"Yeah."
She frowned a little and took a few steps back. "Did I do something?"
"I've kept you here long enough," I said, not really answering her question. "I know my way around the island, and I'm clean. You can leave." I saw something flicker in her eyes when I said that and wanted to take it back.
"If that's the way you feel," she said quietly. She bent down and put her heels back on. "Can I ask why?"
"We have no reason to spend all this time together anymore."
"All this time together? You asked my boss whether you could have me as your personal guide. You asked me to stay here with you, and now it's too much?"
"It's enough. I haven't used in days. That's what you wanted to do, right? Make sure I stopped?"
"It's easiest to relapse while you're still detoxing," she protested.
"And since I know that, I know it won't happen to me."
"Are you serious? Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what? You were helping me get off my drugs and now I'm off. I don't need you anymore."
I saw how hard that one hit her. She was speechless before she walked past me and grabbed her bag, heading for the door. Good, if she's upset, she won't come looking for me again, I thought. I hated it, but leading her on was worse. This way, she would leave and hate me enough not to come back.
"I'll tell Joseph tomorrow that you've had a change of heart," she said, opening the door.
"Don't bother. I will." She looked over her shoulder at me.
"I wish you'd tell me what I did so I could apologize," she said.
"If I did, would you shut up and leave already?" I snapped. She glared at me and stormed out of the room, closing the door loudly behind her. "Fuck," I said going back into the bedroom. I got to the bed and fell onto it backward. "Fuck!"
It was the right thing. It was wrong leading her on. Just breaking it off was the right thing to do. I had done the right thing. It was hard now but it would get better. It fucking had to. Kirsten had called me a bad person for leading Abby on. Why didn’t I feel better now that she was gone?
Chapter Twenty
Abby
If I just kept my eyes closed, I could go back to sleep. I didn't know what time it was, but it was morning and it was early. I knew that for sure because my body was wide awake and I had been trying to get back to sleep for the past half hour. I had tried sleeping on both my sides and my stomach, keeping my eyes closed, but it hadn't worked yet.
I wasn't tired, I knew that, but how did other people do it? Just stay in bed even though it was time to get up? I didn't want to get up. I was trying to mope.
The last time I had seen Nate was Friday and I had spent all of Saturday doing my best not to run into him by accident. I'd made the mistake of finally getting him to come out of his hotel room, and now I got to pay for it because I didn't want to see him.
Come on, Abby; there's no way he's in bed right now rehearsing what he's going to do on the off chance that he sees you today, I tried to convince myself. Of course, he wasn't. He wasn't the one who had been left hanging. He wasn't the one who had begun to think that this had been deeper than it had really been.
I had done it to myself. I had nobody to try to peg the blame on but myself. I'd told myself things that he had never said or promised me. I had let myself believe promises he had never made.
This was why I didn't do this. It was risky and it was stupid. There was no way to win. There was no way to save yourself from feeling like this. It would always happen: whether it was small or big, you always got hurt.
I rolled onto my stomach. Face down. At least, I wasn't crying anymore.
I heard a knock at the door. Squeezing my eyes shut tighter, I ignored it. It came again, louder that time. I knew who it was, and part of me was dreading seeing her. I dragged myself out of bed and went to let Makani in.
"Hey," she said, carefully stepping inside.
"We haven't had a date in so long. I at least expected breakfast," I joked half-heartedly. She gave me as smile and didn't push it. I walked directly back to my bed and burrowed under the blanket. I heard her walking around for a bit before her footsteps approached.
"Scoot over," she said, climbing onto the bed. I uncovered my head, seeing her sitting on it with two steaming cups of coffee. "I know it's bad if I'm out of bed before you are," she said. I took the coffee and sat up against the headboard, scooting down so she could sit next to me.
"You sleep in all the time, I don't know why it’s a bad thing when I do it," I said, sipping the coffee.
"Because you haven't missed a sunrise in your life. Can you tell me what happened?" she asked. I took a couple long sips of my coffee.
"You were right," I said, looking down into the creamy liquid instead of at her.
"Right about what?"
"I let myself get carried away. I shouldn't have expected anything of him."
"Did he say something? What happened?"
"He took me out to dinner," I started. She nodded, remembering. Yet another day I had bailed on her to go pretend with Nate. "We spent the entire day together. He bought me a dress and had booked this amazing place for us to have dinner that night."
"He took you on a date," she said.
"He said it was to show his gratitude for me taking him around the island, and I should have believed him," I sighed.
“"We're there and it's gorgeous, but he gets this phone call. Someone keeps calling him and he keeps turning it off because he doesn't want to take it. I told him he could because it might be important if the person was trying that hard to get in contact with him.
“He leaves and when he comes back, and it's like someone poured cold water over him. He was so distant and distracted the whole dinner. We got back to his suite, and he says he thinks it would be better if I went back to work."
"He asked you to leave?"
"He didn't ask me anything. He told me he wanted me to leave. He basically said he didn't want me there anymore. It would have been one thing if he just didn't think I should sleep in his suite, but he wanted me gone. I thought..."
I paused because it was the first time I was admitting it to myself out loud. "I thought that maybe there was something there. You don't need a tour guide to sleep in your suite with you. We used to sleep in the same bed. We even-" I stopped and shook my head because I felt I was going to start choking up.
"You feel like he broke up with you," she said.
"Everything was so good, Makani. It was great and then out of the blue after he takes this mystery phone call, he tells me to fuck off."
"I'm sorry he did that to you, Abby," she said. "You shouldn't beat yourself up if he doesn't even have the decency to tell you why he did it."
"You wanted to know why I don't date? This. This is why," I said.
"In a couple months, he's going to leave and you never have to see him again."
"Yeah, but I still love his band. That's going to be a problem."
"How about we do something tonight?"
"I don't feel like going out. You go."
"Let's stay here, watch some movies, and have a girls’ night," she suggested. I drank some more of my coffee. It wasn't hot anymore.
"Do we have t
o watch rom-coms?"
"Of course. It isn't a girls’ night if we don't," she said, grinning.
"Can I pick?" I asked. She agreed and pulled me out of bed to eat some of my leftovers for breakfast before going to work.
The day wasn't bad, but it wasn't good. It was just hours of thinking every tall man with dark hair was Nate, and then panicking, and then calming down when I found out it was not him. That and wondering what he was doing, where, and with whom. Wondering whether he was shooting again, trying to tell myself it was none of my business since he had told me he didn't want my help anymore, and then circling right back to worrying again.
Was he giving you this much thought, Abby? I asked myself. I couldn't just turn it off. I still cared about him, even if he didn't care about me.
I was tired by the time we were clocking out, something that rarely happened. Makani sent me home before she left to shop for our provisions. I spent the time she was gone browsing for good movies to see. I had always thought 50 First Dates was funny before I came to Hawai’i: that wouldn't do it. I needed something really sappy. The Notebook or better; that was the only thing that would give me a good enough cry to get over him.
Makani brought the snacks. Saturated fats were the only thing that could fix this, or at least give me a food coma bad enough to forget. We used my laptop since I didn’t have a television. We discussed the pros and cons of each movie I had selected before we chose The Proposal to watch first.
I liked a good rom-com. everything always worked out and in the end, love conquered all. The romantic in me wanted to believe it, but I had doubted ever being able to find something like that for myself in my life. Not where I was now, at least. I’d pull myself out of this, I just needed about a straight month of nights in with Makani and maybe I’d feel okay again.
"I can't believe she fell for him," Makani said watching Sandra Bullock lose every shred of common sense she had over Ryan Reynolds.
"I know," I said, eating another spoonful of ice cream right out of the carton.
"She could do so much better," Makani said. "He was her assistant."
"Should have paid attention to the terms of her visa," I tutted.
"Could you imagine? Marrying a guy for citizenship?" Makani said dramatically.
"Like Canada's a barren wasteland or something," I laughed.
That felt good. Maybe it was a little hostile to attack the girls on screen for falling in love, but it made me feel better about what I had made the mistake of doing. I hadn’t fallen in love, it hadn’t gotten that serious, but given more time and more nights with Nate being that open and sweet, who knows what might have happened.
Maybe it was cathartic for Makani, too. She had her whole thing with Keno and as far as I knew, she hadn’t spoken to him yet – even though she totally wanted to. We were sort of in different boats, but I could still empathize with feeling bitter about someone else’s happy ending, even if it was just in a movie.
We decided against The Notebook at the last minute because it was too much of a bummer, but got through two more Kate Hudson movies before we turned in. We had work the next day, but Makani stayed over. I was glad she did.
Was this what it was like for Nate? I wasn't trying to compare me trying not to think about him to him trying to stay clean, but now that the light was off and Makani was asleep, I couldn't help wondering how he was.
It wasn't all for nothing. Even if I wasn't helping him anymore, he was still taking care of himself. At least, I hoped he still was. Whatever that phone call was, I hoped it hadn't pushed him back into using. I didn't have to be part of the equation for him to be healthy. I just hoped that if he was done with me, he at least kept his sobriety.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nate
When you've been sick long enough, you stop noticing that your body hasn't been working right. Being sick becomes your new normal, and when you're not sick anymore, it's like a shock. You don't know what to do with all the energy you suddenly have or all the full nights you've been sleeping with no problem.
Twenty-two days. I wasn't detoxing anymore. I was clean. Obviously, not as clean as I had been before I'd ever done dope, but as clean as it was possible to be as a former druggie.
That's right. Former. I'd kicked it. Was it too early to start calling myself recovered?
I felt recovered. I was writing music again. I felt stronger. I was waking up earlier; I mean, shit, I'd been up before nine almost every day the past two weeks. Everything was great. It was like I was on drugs again, but I wasn't. I was clean. The dope had put this weird fog over everything and now that it was gone, I felt like I had never noticed how beautiful everything around me was.
I swear to God, it was like someone had put a new coat of paint over the entire world. It was new and bright and I fucking loved it. I felt great. I wanted to do things again, things that didn’t involve getting loaded and passing out. I felt like I could finally think. My mind wasn't zapped, doped up, and cloudy.
I was on vacation, in paradise, and I was off the drugs. Whether I had known it or not, it was like the drugs had been my biggest problem, and now I didn't have it anymore. It was perfect.
Mostly perfect.
I had been sober when I had told Abby that I didn't want to see her again and I knew that I had not imagined the look on her face when she left.
The last thing I had told her to do was shut up and leave me alone. I had wanted her to leave, and it had worked.
That was a lie.
I had wanted to make myself feel better about the fact that I was going to leave. I did want her to stay. I wanted to share this with her. I wanted us to hang out without thinking about when I could get my next fix and her not having to worry about whether I was feeling sick.
Was there a better way to let someone know you didn't want them than just straight up telling them? Even if it was a lie?
I had been avoiding the front lobby like the plague. I wanted to see her, so fucking bad. I wanted her in my bed again. I wanted to fuck her, but I'd want that when I was back in LA, too, and this vacation was over. I wasn't here to start again; my life was in LA and I was going back to it. This was her life. She was staying here.
I couldn't see her, but that hadn't meant that I'd gone into hiding for the past two weeks. It was hard to get around the hotel without going through the lobby, but I had managed to go back to the Garden of the Gods a few more times.
Abby had mentioned that I had to see it at sunset, and she had been right. It was like entering another dimension when I was there. The rocks looked like they glowed in the light of the sunset. It was amazing.
It also maybe helped me feel a little closer to her since I couldn't actually be close to her. There was that, I guess. I felt a little nostalgic about it. I remember feeling like I wanted to kill her that first day she forced me out of my suite to go there, but now, I remembered it sort of fondly.
It was morning, but I wanted to leave the suite. If I took the stairs instead of the elevator, then I wouldn't go by the front lobby. Being in my suite alone all the time wasn't that appealing anymore. I walked towards the bar because if I was hanging out with anyone, it might as well be a familiar face.
It was early, so Keno was there by himself. He was wiping a glass when he saw me.
"Hey, Keno," I said first.
"Nate, it's been awhile. I thought you went home, brother," he said.
"I'm here all summer."
"You look different," he said.
"I've been making some healthier choices lately," I said, smirking.
"You're not drinking today?" he asked. I shook my head. I didn't need it. I felt good.
"How have you been?" I asked him.
"Good. Busy. That's how it is every summer when you guys come to the islands."
"I bet you can't wait for us all to go back where we came from."
"As long as you buy a lot of drinks before you go," he joked. I laughed.
"It’s easy to forget I don't
actually live here," I admitted.
"Not looking forward to going back?" he asked. Wasn’t that the fucking truth?
"I'm on vacation while I'm here. When I go back, I gotta work," I said. A version of the truth, but not the whole truth.
"Better make the rest of your time here count, then. Before you know it, you'll be on that plane back," he said. I nodded.
"I gotta get out more," I said, laughing.
"Listen, I'm going on a hike after my shift. You should come." A hike? I'd never gone on a hike, not on purpose, at least. I lived in LA, but it wasn't really my scene. I preferred the gym. Since he had offered, though, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. Abby wasn't taking me anywhere anymore. Might as well, right?
"Sure. That sounds great. Thanks."
"The guys here at the hotel could hook you up with some gear if you don't have any. Just check the island adventure center." I thanked him and said I'd meet him later.
I took his advice, getting myself some real hiking boots before meeting him at the entrance of the hotel, where a car took us out to the city. He said the trail we were doing was the Munro Trail. It was a lot of forest and there were some pretty serious elevations, he warned me beforehand. It was all good. I could take a climb. I felt like I could do anything since getting off the dope. The trail began beyond the city and went up behind it.
I had started working out a lot more since I had quit, so it wasn't that hard. The island was so small I could practically see where it started and where it ended. Plus, Keno was cool. He was good company. He was no Abby, but I wanted very different things from her than I wanted from him. He told me he had lived on Lanai all his life and was going to die here, too, as far as he was concerned.
It was sort of embarrassing hearing where he had come from. We had had very different lives. I felt like a little Richie Rich asshole who'd been coddled my whole life. He lived in a small place in Lanai City, but he'd done it himself.
I knew what it meant to be my father's son. I knew how much clout my last name carried. It was part of the reason why I hadn't followed him into business. Money made misery easier; it didn't make you happy. Even if you wiped your tears with Ben Franklins, you were still crying.
