Surviving Us (25 page)

“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 and 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.