Rebound (8 page)

Her mouth went cotton
ball dry just at the thought of chugging the nasty mess. But the
wind outside picked up, and the wind chimes gained volume.

“Give me that.” She
snatched the cold glass out of Kevin’s hand and brought it to her
lips. But she inhaled through her nose and the burnt rubber smell
she remembered had a musky gym socks scent too. She held the glass
out away from her and shook her head. “How did you make it smell
worse?”

Kevin guffawed. “It
doesn’t. It’s just that island paradises smell so good, everything
else smells worse in comparison.”

Susan looked at him
doubtfully.

“Here,” he said,
scooting closer. “I’ll hold your nose for you while you drink
it.”

“You gonna hold my
hair for me when I puke it back up?”

“Very funny. Now
remember it works best if you guzzle the whole thing at once.”

Susan just wanted to
kick him in the teeth. “That wouldn’t be because it tastes like
shit, would it?”

Kevin grabbed hold of
her nose and pushed the glass to Susan’s lips. “Everyone’s a
goddamn critic.”

As the chilly liquid
flowed down her throat she had to admit, without the smell it
tasted like generic cough syrup. Generic cough syrup with chunks of
cherries and olives in it, and laced with tequila.

Susan coughed as the
last of the nasty stuff went down, and as Kevin let go of her nose,
she reached for a tissue and gave her nose a swift, very quiet
blow.

“What the hell was
that?” Kevin said, sitting back from her, his expression confused,
as if he couldn’t recognize her.

“What was what?”

“You just blew your
nose like a blond sorority pledge. What happened to the angry
tuba?”

He would have to
remember something stupid and horribly embarrassing like that.
Susan had always had a loud sneeze, often likened to a shotgun
blast. And when she blew her nose it always sounded like a very
loud, angry tuba. She hadn’t given it much thought in high school,
and little more in college. But once out in the professional world
and social situations, people stared at her like she was a circus
freak when she cleared her sinuses. She had consciously toned it
down. Toned down so far that now she made no sound at all.

“Angry tuba went
bye-bye,” Susan said.

Kevin threw back his
head and laughed, pulling her to him with his strong, muscular arm.
“I guess that would put a damper on any dating situation.”

The orange sludge
calmed her stomach, and her mind quieted. “Mark looked at me like I
was an elephant the one time I accidentally did it in front of
him.” She swallowed as she remembered the horrified look on his
handsome face. “Said it was tacky. He runs off with a cocktail
waitress and I’m tacky!” She stiffened. At the thought of him
judging her, and then standing her up on their wedding day, her
hangover was quickly being replaced by pure, hot anger.

“He doesn’t deserve
the tuba,” Kevin said, kissing her lightly on the top of her head.
“He doesn’t deserve you either.”

Susan laughed, but it
sounded wheezy and choked. She dropped her head down on Kevin’s
t-shirt clad chest and listened to his heartbeat. Strong and
steady. But when she wrapped her arms around his torso she could
swear that steady heartbeat lurched and started to speed up. His
chest felt so good, the solid bulk of him, that she leaned in more,
snuggling into his warm, hard body--inadvertently pressing her
breasts against him.

She could hear his
heart racing, and his breathing came in ragged gasps.

Suddenly Kevin pulled
away from her and was on his feet, looking flushed and sweaty, like
he’d just run a mile. “How’s that hangover?”

“What’s wrong?” Susan
was still trying to straighten herself on the couch--she’d fallen
over when he’d jumped away from her.

“Nothing.” But she’d
never seen Kevin look so nervous.

“Then why are you
acting like that?”

Kevin got this
pissed-off look on his face--jaw set, head tilted, hands on his
hips--and those hazel eyes of his got all dark and sinister. It
made a chill slither up Susan’s spine.

“Last night...” Kevin
said, his voice a harsh accusation.

“Last night?” Susan
struggled to remember what had happened. There had been the hang
gliding, and dinner, and margaritas...and then Liz had called.
Something about finding her a rebound fling, and then...

She’d jumped her best
friend’s bones.

Susan closed her eyes
and groaned. “Oh God!”

“So you do remember,”
Kevin said, his eyes narrowing.

“I made a pass at
you.”

“I think it went way
beyond a pass.” His eyes looked angry, but Susan could tell it was
just for show.

And it hit her, and
the thought made the red hot anger from before well up inside her,
ready to explode. She was sure her hair would burst into flame at
any moment.

“And you turned me
down,” Susan said.

“As any good
friend--”

“You turned me down!”
she screamed.

Kevin’s eyes bulged
with surprise. “I-I...just--”

Kevin backed
away, his hands up as Susan rose from the couch.
Good, he should run. I’m
about to murder him!
Liz’s
words were whispering themselves in her ears again. Rebound. The
fastest, easiest way to get over the pain of being
dumped?

And she was in pain.
Every time she thought of Mark, every time she remembered how
beautiful she’d felt in that wedding dress. Being there, in
paradise, on her honeymoon, with no groom. The pain radiated from
her chest, making all her limbs feel like they were withering,
dying. Her head had never felt so ready to burst, filled with
questions, convoluted thoughts, paranoia. The cure was as simple as
sleeping with some hot stud...she had her own hot stud right there
with her, and he was her goddamn best friend!

“How could you say
no?”

Kevin’s jaw dropped,
his eyes turning unreadable.

“I’m in real pain
here, and you won’t give me the one little thing I ask you
for.”

“Now wait a
minute--”

“I mean--” She could
hear the hysteria in her own voice, which pissed her off even more.
“It’s not like I’m asking for a kidney or something. Or for you to
date my two hundred pound ugly sister.”

“Suze, you don’t have
a--”

“All I wanted was for
you to fuck me!”

Kevin’s jaw dropped
again.

“It’s not like you
haven’t wanted to!”

The look that fell
over Kevin’s face like a malevolent shadow instantaneously zapped
the anger right out of Susan’s entire body. Kevin was pissed. And
this time, for real.

* * * *

Kevin had had
enough.

He’d been the good
friend, taking Susan away from her problems, bringing her down to
Cancun. He’d played nursemaid, psychologist, pizza delivery boy,
and bartender. And he’d been so strong--though tequila impaired
himself--and hadn’t let her take advantage of him, even though
ninety-nine percent of him had so wanted her to.

But now she was
calling him out like he was some ungrateful letch. Who the fuck did
she think she was?

Susan opened her
mouth as if she was about to say something, but Kevin snapped at
her before she could utter a syllable.

“You have no right to
ask me for that!”

Susan stepped back, a
fearful look in her eyes.

“Not you, not now,
not ever!”

Susan looked up at
him as he towered over her. He was clenching his teeth so hard it
hurt. Slowly he willed his breathing slower, and when he stepped
back he started to walk toward the glass French doors leading to
the beach.

“I have to go,” Kevin
said as he pulled the doors open and left the room, not looking
back.

* * * *

What
have I done?
That’s all Susan
could think as she stood in the middle of the hotel suite, looking
out onto the pure white sands of Cancun, watching Kevin walk away,
down the beach, and then slowly out of sight. What
had
she done?

Good thing was she
wasn’t thinking about Mark or the wedding or her feelings anymore.
She was just plain horrified that she could’ve been so selfish, so
thoughtless, so cruel. He’d done all this for her, in her time of
need--and she had to face it, she was freaking pathetic with need
about then. And not only had she tried to seduce him against his
will, but then she threw his attraction for her, from seven long
years ago, right in his face, like he was some juvenile pervert
trying to cop a feel.

When
in reality he’s the best friend I have in the world
.

Sorry, Liz.

Susan could no longer
set one higher than the other. They both meant so much to her. And
she hadn’t realized until he’d walked out that door that he meant
the world to her. She couldn’t live without him. Not for a single
day. How could she be such a fool, trying to use him like that, and
just to dull her pain.

She would make it up
to him.

But how could
she?

She’d apologize as
soon as he got back.

But what if he didn’t
come back?

“He’ll come back,”
Susan said.

But there were planes
leaving the island on the hour, every hour. She wasn’t so sure he
really was coming back.

Susan ran into the
bedroom, did a quick change, pulled on some sneakers, pulled her
hair back in a ponytail and threw some cold water on her face. She
tasted tequila on her breath and did the fastest brushing of her
teeth ever. She set out at a dead run in the direction Kevin had
gone. He was walking. Hopefully she could catch up by running.

Of course, even
though she’d been a minor track star in high school, she hadn’t had
time to run since her sophomore year of college, a fact that hit
her as she lumbered over the sandy beach, finally having to stop
and catch her breath about a hundred yards in. But she kept
walking. She had to find him before a plane came and took him away
from her.

* * * *

Cancun looks
very small on a map of the world. Even smaller when you look at it
on a globe. But when you’re walking down one of its snow white
sandy beaches, it seems the beach goes on forever. For a while,
Susan started to think she’d fallen into an episode of
The Twilight
Zone
. At first there had been
lots of people on the beach, but as she walked, the crowds at the
water’s edge slowly faded, until she found herself tripping down a
deserted stretch of beach. And though it seemed she could see
forever in both directions, she couldn’t see Kevin
anywhere.

Where the hell was
he? She had to apologize. She had to make it better.

If she could find
him.

She’d find him.

But what if he wasn’t
walking on the beach? What if he took a turn to the road and hailed
a cab? He could be on a plane--a plane anywhere--by now.

“He’s here, you
ignorant bitch!” Susan shouted at herself. “And I am going to find
him!”

“I believe you,” a
woman’s deep voice said, floating through the tropical breeze like
the scent of orchids. “You don’t have to bite my head off about it,
though.”

Susan turned to see a
thin woman who looked like she was in her seventies, her long white
hair pulled back in a braid, dressed in a short-sleeved biker-short
style wet suit, polishing a surfboard leaning against a giant palm
tree. Her skin was brown and deeply lined, yet radiant with pure
energy, as were her brown eyes, glowing with self-possession. And
her smile, wide and happy and white.

“I’m sorry,” Susan
sputtered. “I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

The woman chuckled
and gave Susan the eye. “So you were talking to someone who’s not
there?”

Susan stood
speechless. How was she going to explain this? And to a complete
stranger. “Not really someone...more of a voice in my head.”

“I didn’t mean
anything by that, honey.” The woman ran her wrinkled hand down the
smooth gleam of the surfboard’s outer lip. “Believe me, I talk to
myself all the time.” She fixed a hard look on Susan. “Just be
careful. Those voices in your head aren’t always yours.”

Susan felt a queasy
knot in her stomach. “What do you mean?” So many thoughts flooded
her mind. Mental illness, radio waves, ghosts, the devil...

“Just that sometimes
the voices in our heads that judge us and tell us what we should be
doing, they aren’t our voices at all.”

“Whose are they
then?” The devil, most assuredly. The thoughts that had been
rushing through her head had to be planted by the devil.

“Your mother’s.” The
woman shrugged her shoulders. “All our mothers.”

Susan smiled politely
at the deranged old woman. The voice that was in her head, telling
her to go get Kevin, that voice was clearly not her mother’s. Her
mother would have an aneurysm if she even thought Susan wasn’t
still a virgin.

“I’m just going to go
find my friend,” Susan said, turning to walk away.

“If you’re looking
for that tall drink of water with the great pecks and hazel
eyes…”

Susan stopped and
turned in her tracks, suddenly very interested in what the old
woman had to say.

“He turned off that
way.” She gestured with her thumb to behind where she was standing.
“Headed up to The Virgin Drop on Twelve Apostles Lookout.”

“The Virgin Drop?”
Susan said dubiously, shielding her eyes with her hand as she
peered up the jungle choked hillside.

“Virgins go up there
and are never seen again.” The woman wriggled her eyebrows. “They
all come back women.”

“Funny,” Susan said.
“But how did Kevin get up there?”

The woman gestured
with her long, thin arm. “There’s a path, there. Leads up to where
you want to go.” The woman’s eyes widened as she peered past Susan
at the ocean. “Excuse me, dear, but my ride’s here.” She grabbed
her board and started sprinting toward the surf, running into the
water and diving onto the board heedlessly. A few strokes and she
broke past the waves lapping at the beach and cut her way out to
sea, where the waters were roiling, and Susan could see larger
waves looming in the distance.