The universe had a lousy sense of humor.
The air was thick with anticipation as Dad slipped the DVD into the player.
“Do you want to say some words about your film?” Dad asked Deni, and I cringed on his behalf. But in typical Deni fashion, he handled the spotlight with aplomb.
“Not many in Aceh had cameras, but there was some footage of the tsunami, much like the footage that you saw in America from the Thailand tourist footage. These tourists let me use it for my film and eventually gave me their camera as a gift.”
Spider tapped his barefoot on the wood floor like he was totally annoyed. Tap, tap, tap. If Deni noticed, he didn’t acknowledge, but I elbowed him in the ribs with a pleading glance to please be cordial.
“I interviewed many survivors in Aceh, and my friends of course, who are now all over the world. At school in Taiwan I learned to edit, and I made this. Voila, as you and the French say?”
I smiled. He was so dang cute.
“So, how do you say it? ‘Here goes nothing.’”
Big Tom clapped enthusiastically, and Dad pressed play.
I slipped off the loveseat and onto the floor to get a better look.
When the film started, Deni plopped down beside me and immediately Spider scooched over, sitting directly behind me so I sat between his legs. Spider reached forward, encapsulating me in a double-armed web. It was sort of awkward—we never sat like this—and Vera flicked an eyebrow in my direction and mouthed, What is going on?
I shrugged and made big eyes, and she shrugged back. I sensed she appreciated us jumping aboard her plan of Deni replacing Dad on the trip. The fact that she thought I could go in her stead flattered me as well.
Next gen. Passing the torch and all that.
“Are you ready?” Deni asked, like we were about to take off into the night together, as if my close friend who wanted to be more wasn’t sitting right behind me, like my family wasn’t surrounding us, as if he hadn’t appeared back into my life. Deni was many things, but subtle was never one of them.
The music Deni chose for his soundtrack was a lovely dreamscape of Indonesian drums and children singing, whisking me back to the orphanage where we first met, followed by a montage of images: bucolic settings in pre-tsunami Aceh, men in ragged pants fishing off the sides of rusted boats, women dying large swaths of fabric in technicolor, children playing in the blood-red dirt. The images he chose were dramatic, foreshadowing. Then the drums thrust aggressively, tearing and shredding, as the wave began to rise. Children ran and people were thrown about, screaming, crying. That went on for thirty seconds of pure horror before it faded into a voiceover aftermath—stills of bodies piled up, news headlines from around the world, and then, finally, the orphans at the pesantren, sitting in window sills, haunted eyes empty and tired. Then came the title word: TSUNAMI.
Everyone was quiet, soaking it in.
Then we clapped.
Wow.
Obviously, I was totally biased, but it was a profoundly brilliant opener, worthy of any documentary or mainstream fiction movie I’d seen.
The film moved on to interviews, to more stills at the orphanage, the dining hall, the assembly room—all so familiar, the memories, the feelings flooding back.
And suddenly there I was, on the screen.
All my seventeen years in that little white eyelet dress, an adorable little girl in my arms.
“That is the first time Elli wasn’t afraid in the rain,” Deni said. “That is my favorite part,” he added, to be adorable, controversial, or both.
The camera zoomed in on me, holding a second too long like that wedding scene in Love, Actually when the viewer realizes that sign guy is in love with Keira Knightley’s character and was the most revealing/awkward thing yet.
“Wow,” Vera said.
“She’s so young,” Dad said. “She looks just…”
“…like Hope,” Tom added quietly. “It’s uncanny.”
We sat there in tense silence. Even though my mother had died over five years ago, her name was still hard to hear, and we never knew how people would react.
“Yes, you do,” Vera said, surprising me with a warm smile. “And you should be proud of that.”
I smiled back. “Thanks, V,” I said.
When the film ended, we all clapped. Then she swooped up Max who clearly didn’t want to leave the den—kids were magnets for adult drama—and whined in protest. “Can you help, Andrew?”
“Sure thing,” he said, stretching and rising.
“Good night, Maxy. Thanks for the yummy meal, Vera,” I said.
“You’re welcome, hon,” she said before she left the room.
I turned to Deni. “You took that when I wasn’t looking?” I asked Deni in a voice I barely recognized as my own. The way the camera warmed my image like a soft blanket, reflecting the truth of my spirit, it was like the person wielding the camera could see straight into my soul.
Deni held my eyes for a second too long before he said in a low, soft, familiar voice, “I was always looking.”
Spider bailed next. “I’m outta here. You want to hit the waves, Sea?”
I shook my head. “I’d like to, but I have company.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I followed him to the door. That seemed to be our new routine.
“You can’t have it both ways, Sienna,” he said.
Sienna. He never called me that anymore. He was mad at me.
“What? Going to travel and being your friend? You aren’t being fair.”
“You know what I mean. You can’t string me along.”
I shut the door behind us, giving us privacy. “Spider. You just told me how you felt, that you wanted more. That just happened yesterday.”
“Yeah, well. Nothing has changed on my end. I want you to move in with me and you said you’d think about it, and now you’re being all weird because this guy shows up out of nowhere.”
“I’m sorry.” I was. But I also felt like my insides were on fire. “I don’t know what to say.”
He grasped my elbows. “Say nothing has changed.”
“I don’t…it hasn’t. I mean, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I’m going to figure it out. I promise.”
He smiled. A real smile. “Good. That makes me feel better. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
“I can’t help that.”
“I know, I know.” He tugged on his hair. “It’s just I finally figured out what I want, Sea…and it’s you.” He looked at me deeply. “I think it’s always been you.”
Oh. My. God.
This was not happening.
He tilted his head. A question. A question I had no idea how to answer.
Before I got a chance to respond, the door opened, and it was him. Standing there like it was just a normal thing to appear in my doorway. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered on hyperspeed.
When our eyes met, it was like the world filled with warm, golden light. This unidentifiable thing with Deni that made me want to run toward him.
I couldn’t fight it.
I didn’t want to.
That was what Spider was fighting against. Not me, not us, not the details. But the feelings.
“Are you okay?” Deni asked me.
I am now. The thought slipped out unbidden.
“If he goes with you to Cambodia, this is over,” Spider said so quietly I could barely believe what I heard.
“What?”
“You heard me. I meant what I said. That’s how I feel.”
“I…”
“Don’t say anything now,” Spider said. “See ya.”
“He is angry I am here,” Deni said as we watched him walk away.
“Yes,” I admitted, because that was obvious. “It’s not your fault.”
“I am sorry to cause you problems.”
“It’s not a problem,” I lied. “I mean, I’ll figure it out.” Truth.
“Do you want me to go back to Taiwan?”
“No!” I said it so fast it caught me off guard. I didn’t want Deni going anywhere ever again without me.
Whoa.
The monumental realization glued me to my spot. Spider gave me an ultimatum. Him or Deni. The Cambodia trip or San Miguel.
I couldn’t have both.
Deni took my hand, and I leaned forward into his open shoulder and rested my forehead on his beating heart. I let myself have a second of the gift that was in front of me, even if it was smothering the light from the rest of my world. The world that had been there for me when Deni wasn’t. It wasn’t fair, but what I felt for Deni was too hard to fight. And so easy to give into.
Please don’t go, Deni.
Eventually, we went back in the house. Dad intercepted Deni to discuss the travel arrangements since, apparently, Deni coming was a done deal. Everything was happening so fast.
Hands trembling, I grabbed my phone and texted Bev.
Sienna: Deni isn’t married! He’s not even engaged! But Spider is mad at me.
I waited but there was no response.
Bev was probably out with Vi—short for Violet—her rad girlfriend. Or maybe she was mad at me, too. She was loyal to her brother. If she had to choose between us, I bet she’d choose Spider. She’d have to.
I sighed, missing her already. I was glad she had Vi, though. They’d moved in together into a little beach cottage near the Point. I’d never seen Bev so happy in our lives.
I texted Spider next.
Sienna: I’m sorry.
I stared at the words, breaking them down. Why am I sorry? What did I do wrong exactly? Deni being here was not my fault. Yeah, I was sorry for acting weird, but I was not sorry Deni was here.
I revised the note:
Sienna: I’m sorry your feelings are hurt.
I deleted all the letters and retyped:
Sienna: I’m not trying to hurt you.
I opened my window and crawled out to regroup.
What did I want?
I wanted to go abroad.
I wanted to explore other lands, to get away from the person I was here and disappear like I did two years ago. That’s what I wanted. Adventure. New sights and sounds and experiences and it suddenly dawned on me why I was being so wishy-washy with Spider. I wanted to be somewhere other than here, and here, in San Miguel, is where Spider wanted to be. He wanted to be here, only here, with his friends and private beach, claiming waves and a particular booth at the pizza place. That girl in Deni’s movie with the eyelet dress spinning in the rain? Where was she?
I shook off the boy drama that made me feel petty and thought about the trip. Swimming lessons were something I could do. Something I could teach. Swimming was a tangible skill that saved lives. But the part Tom would do, helping the children of Cambodia who were trafficked, was so grim and tragic. People in their country were so desperate they would do anything for money, for food, for a roof over their heads. It got so bad in some villages that the girls weren’t being kidnapped, they were being sold by their parents to traders who promised them an education in exchange for a little bit of work.
That work being sold to tourists and other predators.
Disgusting.
Could I teach girls to swim?
Yes.
Could I help with their unsurmountable problems?
No way.
I sighed. How would teaching them to swim make a dent in the psychological problems those girls must have? If it were me, I couldn’t imagine even attempting to rebuild my life. I was impressed they even wanted to try.
Deni crashed for a nap, and I watched documentaries.
I ended up in tears watching the hideous footage of children being torn from their villages, hearing reluctant accounts of being taken. The girls and boys in the videos rejected professional treatment. They wanted to go home. To be normal. To pretend none of this happened. But unfortunately, another side effect of being sold into the sex trade in Southeast Asia was the stigma. Returning children and teens were shunned by their families, marked “tainted.”
It was too horrible a situation to fully grasp. I called Big Dr. Tom.
“I’m watching documentaries,” I said. “It’s horrible.”
“I know.”
“I’m glad I’m going…but hey, Deni? Really?”
“Really.”
“Sorry about Spider’s behavior and all the weirdness,” I said.
“Don’t ever apologize for someone else’s mistakes. Spider was way off tonight. You were fine. Thanks for the enthusiasm. You won’t regret it, kid.”
Somehow Tom always knew the exact thing to say…I just hoped he was right.
Chapter Eight
“The elusive Beverly finally appears outside her love nest habitat.”
“Ha friggin’ ha,” she said. “If you could trade places with me, you’d never leave, either. Like if you lived with Spider, I might never be able to excavate you out. Sorry, I mean, before The Great Return of Deni. When do I get to meet his fabulousness by the way?”
Bev and I strolled along the beach near her new rental cottage. “Today?”
“Great! Can I bring Vi?”
“Sure. I take it, since I never hear from you anymore, that things are going well?”
“Fantastic. Better than fantastic,” she said, all bright-eyed. “I know you’re all Love Problems galore, but we are so happy. Do you all think it was too early for us to move in together? Because I don’t. I mean. It feels right, you know? That’s what Vi always says, ‘When it feels right it feels right.’”
I knew about things feeling right.
Bev waved her heavily ringed hand through the air. On one finger looped a silver unicorn. On another, a gold dragon. On her pinky was the birthstone I gave her when we were ten. It still fit, but only on her pinky.
Glancing out at the smooth sea, Bev twisted her unicorn ring around her finger. She shook her head as if clearing it from the mushy-love moment, so she could focus on me and our walk. “So, speaking of moving in, what’s up with you and my brother? He said he asked you to move in with him for the summer, are you going to?”
“He didn’t tell you what’s going on?” I asked, sheepishly wondering how much to share about our personal meltdown, considering her seemingly perfect relationship status.
“He told me he asked you and you were ‘acting weird’ about it. Then he never showed up at my parents’ place last night. My mom was pissed…she’d made him his favorite apple crumble and everything. She called me all panicky like she gets. I told Mom to chill out, you know? Spi does his thing. I told her to call you…and just, I don’t know, be direct and ask where her son is.”
“She didn’t,” I said, feeling bad for being the root of family strife. I loved Spider’s mom. And now I was worried. Spider never just…disappeared. Even when he was mad, he always showed up where he was supposed to be.
This was bad.
Worse than I thought bad. I hadn’t seen him since he left me standing with Deni on my porch. For the second time.
“He’ll turn up. He always does. So, are you going to move in with that dumpster-dweller brother of mine? Because I swear to God, his place has rats. Live actual vermin. I’m like, ‘Spider? Do you live in New York? No. Why do you have rats?’ but he denied it. He claimed the rodent drops all over his counter are coffee beans.”
Spider’s stoner roommates sat around playing videogames for hours and hours. I tried not to be judgy, but it seemed like a royal waste of brain space. “No, I don’t want to move in there.”
“Well, maybe you guys can get your own place? Sans gross roommates? I bet Spider would be up for it.”
I blinked at her. “Bev! We aren’t even together. I’m not moving in with Spider.”
I said it so sternly her giant grin faded. “Okay, okay. I was overexcited. Can I help it I’m ecstatically happy for the first time, like, ever?”
We were quiet for a minute, walking along the sand.
Couldn’t I be like Bev? Take a
leap of faith and jump in with Spider, pretend Deni never came? Maybe I shouldn’t go on the trip. Or convince Deni not to go? Wouldn’t that be easier? The four of us double-dating and hosting family dinners and…
A sinking feeling spread through my chest. Why did Spider have to give me that ultimatum?
Why was he making me choose?
I kicked a rock out of the way and hid the frustrated tears in my eyes from Bev.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Oh, hey, we got a guinea pig! Did I tell you?” Bev said, enthusiastically. “I wanted chickens, but a friend got chicks and accidentally got a rooster in the litter—are they called litters?—and they were fined by the city, so I suggested, ‘Hey, what about a guinea pig,’ you know? It won’t lay eggs, but anyway, she’s our baby. Her name is Bug. Vi carries her around the cottage in a baby wrap.”
That made me laugh. “Like Bug, after your brother?”
“Yeah. Funny, right?”
“Yeah.” Frankly it all seemed a little weird, and I was ready to go back to the house and sit with Tom and Deni and plan our trip. I woke up that morning exhausted and red-eyed from crying all night. I barely spoke at breakfast, just wolfed down my oatmeal and excused myself to take a walk with Bev.
Thankfully Deni was still asleep, exhausted with jet lag. Was he thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him?
We walked in silence, Bev and I. It felt like running into an old friend you don’t have that much in common with anymore.
She = deliriously happy. Me = miserable.
And suddenly all this intimate stuff about her brother was happening, and I didn’t feel like I could tell her.
“So, you guys are like, really, settling down?” I asked her, because talking about Vi seemed like the safest topic right now.
“For now, anyway. It just feels right, you know? Have you ever felt that way?”
I felt that way only once: when I met Deni in Indonesia.
Should I want to strap a guinea pig to my chest and play house with Spider?
Just the thought… I felt sick. And worried. Like this was…unfixable. Bev seemed ecstatically happy, and I saw where Spider was getting this idea that the two of us move in from. He wanted to skip over the dating stuff—after all, we already knew each other so well—and be like Bev and Vi: baking and raising pets, which sounded quaint and sweet, but it wasn’t for me. The last thing I want to do is raise guinea pigs with Spider in the town where I grew up.
Where the Sea Takes Me Page 6
