Three Words: A Novella Collection (39 page)

“
You should do something about that reef cut,” he adds. “They
get infected easily.”

We both stare
at the blood running down my shin but it’s like we’re incapable of
doing anything to fix it, like we’re stuck to the sand or
something.

“
I…I…” Suddenly, I feel woozy. Blood and I are not friends. We
have an understanding where blood knows if I am to stay upright, it
must stay inside my body. I flop onto the sand lying prone; knowing
that what might be about to happen can’t happen if I’m lying down.
After a minute, the dizziness passes.

Joel peers
down at me, curious. “Is everything okay?”

“
Just tired,” I say, attempting to look weary. “Phew. That
swim was longer than I thought.”

I don’t think
he believes me and I have no intention of telling him I have a
legit, genetic, medical condition that causes me to faint when I
get cut. People have been known to burst into fits of laughter when
I try to explain.

“
I’ve got a first aid kit in my car… if you want me to cover
that cut.” He hoists his board under his arm and sets off up the
beach.

I lift my leg,
examining it. The bleeding appears to have slowed and I’m not so
dizzy. Well, not while I’m lying here. That could change if I sit
in a car next to Joel.

“
Coming?” Joel calls.

“
I’m fine. I think I’ll walk. The exercise will do me
good.”

“
You sure? That cut looks nasty.”

I look again,
biting my lip with indecision, wishing I could just damn well say
‘yes’ for once in my life. “It’s stopped. Positive.”

Well, I’m
trying to be.

He shrugs and
turns back toward the dunes.

I feel my
mouth open to call him back as he walks away. My hand lifts to get
his attention and then hangs aimlessly in the air like a hat
without a head to perch on. Why can’t I say yes? Why does this
happen to me every time there’s an opportunity to do something new?
Of course, I know the reason why. Mum’s voice is quite clear in my
head. She’s reiterating the dangers of getting in cars with
strangers. She’s telling me over and over that you should never go
with anyone you don’t know, that strange people hang out on beaches
waiting for girls like me.

“
Thanks, anyway,” I call.

“
Sure. It was nice meeting you, Sadie. See you
round.”

“
Yeah. Maybe.”

As I watch him
jog off over the sand, his board under his arm, an odd feeling
comes over me. And I don’t think it’s from the blood.

I stomp back
along the beach kicking myself. Well, not literally, as that would
make me look even more insane, but in my head I’m definitely giving
myself what for. I should have said yes to Joel’s offer of a lift.
I mean, if he’d been going to attack me he had plenty of chance
while we were alone on the beach. There was something in the way
his eyes held mine, that look, something that makes me think I may
have made a very big mistake by turning him down. Not only that,
but my shorts are rubbing the insides of my thighs something
shocking, my leg is hurting and I know I’m going to be sunburnt by
the time I get back to the cottage.

I’m such an
idiot.

I don’t know
what’s come over me. In the space of hours, I’ve transformed into
the sort of girl who imagines every guy she meets is in love with
her. Or worse, that she is in love with them. How can it be that I
am suddenly so flighty and fickle, so strongly attracted to the
type of guys I normally avoid like the plague? It’s not me. The sun
must be affecting my judgement or my sadness over Mum is making me
more sensitive to a few kind words. I feel so conflicted. All it
took was one look and I was putty.

Silly
putty.

At last, I
reach the house and I stop for a second, my hands resting on the
beach gate. It could be that I’m more susceptible than I’ve been in
the past but I felt that chemistry. It was there with
both
of them and it was like nothing I’ve ever felt in any relationship
I’ve had. I know they felt it, too.

The question
is… assuming I ever meet them again, what on earth am I meant to
do?

Chapter 4

After dressing
the cut on my leg, the rest of my day is spent lazing in the
hammock drinking home made margaritas and skimming my highlighter
pen across pages until it’s almost run out. Feeling accomplished at
the huge amount I’ve done — despite the fact I spend a great deal
of time in a daydream that involves both Joel and Nicholas — I
decide to shower and head to The Beach Hut for a meal. This is a
first for me. I would never eat alone back in the city. I’d never
go anywhere that’s meant for couples and groups without actually
being a part of one. I’m not that confident.

It’s a warm
summer night and as I head along the beach, my sandals hooked over
my fingers, I’m feeling relaxed. Mum is gone but I know she’d want
me to be happy so that’s what I intend to do. I’ll never forget
her, of course. I’ll think of her every day. But I know now I can
do that with fond memories, not regret. These days at the beach
have shown me that. Life is for living, not swimming in sadness.
It’s meant for adventures not for being stuck in the same house and
the same job decade after decade, eating the same toast for
breakfast.

A string of
colourful lights are glowing around the perimetre of the restaurant
and I make my way up the sandy path and stop at the reception desk.
The server from the other night when I was here with Nicholas looks
up from the reservation book. She has a different uniform on
tonight. It’s a pale lemon colour with a white collar and pink
piping but it’s no less tight. I can see her red polka dot bra
quite clearly where the buttons are gaping at her cleavage. Her
boobs look as if they’d be happy to escape it. I’ve never seen the
allure of getting your boobs out like that… but then I’d have to
have a push-up bra with extra push to achieve anywhere near close
to her level of boobage.

“
I don’t have a reservation but is there any chance of a table
for one?” I ask.

“
We’re fully booked,” she replies. “But let me see what I can
do.” She glances back to the reservations and then around the room
a couple of times. She’s being far more amiable tonight and I’m
thinking she doesn’t see me as competition standing here in my
white maxi dress looking like I’m about twelve. Emily hates it when
I wear this dress, she says its too baggy, that I look like I’ve
escaped from a nativity play and all I need is some tinsel on my
head to transform me into an angel. I like it. I like white. I
watch the server as she sucks on the end of her pen, thinking. I
bet if Nicholas were here things would be different. She’d be
giving me daggers for sure, like she did the other night but she’d
find us a table without any wait. I wonder briefly what Nicholas is
doing, how his work thing went, if it’s completed. More to the
point, I wonder if he’ll be here.

Okay. I hope
he’ll be here. Yes, I hope.

The girl leans
across the desk. “The couple in the corner have finished mains.
They only have dessert and coffee left. Would you like me to
reserve that table for you? You can have a drink at the bar. I’ll
come and get you when the table’s free.”

I nod and
smile. “Cool. Thanks.”

I walk around
the corner of the bar and take a seat on one of the high stools. I
order another frozen margarita. It tastes way better than the ones
I made for myself and before I realise I’ve finished it and ordered
another with a bowl of nuts to nibble on while I wait.

Over in the
corner, a band starts playing. It’s only a guitarist, a keyboard
player and a guy on double bass but they sound good and their music
selection is the stuff people like to dance to. The interior lights
have been dimmed and out on the beach the moon has risen and is
casting a silvery glow over the water. There’s a warm breeze
fanning through the palm trees by the beach. It’s like a picture
perfect holiday brochure, like a movie set for a romantic island
honeymoon.

A man comes up
and sits on the empty stool beside me. He’s wearing the cliché
Hawaiian shirt in orange and beige and matching chino shorts with
more pockets than should ever be allowed on a pair of pants.
“Hello,” he says.

“
Hello.”

“
I saw you enjoying the music. Do you want to dance?” He gives
me an expectant smile and though I’m assaulted with the stench of
too-much-garlic-for-dinner, I know I’m going to dance with him.
I’ve never been able to say no for fear it might hurt the other
person’s feelings. It’s only three minutes of your life, after
all.

“
Sure.”

His grin
widens as I hop off my stool and we head into the middle of the
small area used as a dance floor. A few other couples are there, so
we don’t look as obviously ridiculous as if we were dancing
alone.

Which might be
a good thing after seeing the way he dances. His legs are like
heavy lumps of concrete and keeping in time doesn’t appear to be
his forte. His arms, by contrast, seem to want to flap like a bird,
so much so that he almost whacks me in the eye. Fortunately, I have
quick reflexes and am able to duck in time.

“
Oops, sorry,” he says as he reaches over to stop me from
falling. Then, “I’m John.”

“
Sadie.”

“
Have you been in the bay long, Sadie?” His flapping motions
are becoming more frenzied and I fear he may take off at any
second. Lucky he has those lumps of concrete where his legs should
be.

“
A while.”

He shuffles
closer and does a funny side movement that reminds me of people in
a conga line at a wedding. I can see a speck of something stuck
between his teeth. Probably a chunk of that garlic. “I’m staying at
the resort up the way. The rooms are very nice. Spacious. Great
view of the ocean.”

I hope he’s
not going to ask me to come back and check it out.

“
Don’t suppose you fancy coming back to mine for a drink after
this?”

“
Maybe some other time, John—”

Like when I’m
about ninety.

“ —
But thanks for the offer.”

Unable to get
the hint, the man insists we dance for another two songs. He
chatters on like I don’t exist but I think it’s because he’s
nervous, so I reply when he lets me, which isn’t often. He’s adept
at holding a conversation for two people. By the third song my
compassion for men who have the nerve to ask a girl they don’t know
to dance has worn off. We have nothing in common and even though
the poor fellow is asking me every question under the sun to try
and find a bond between us, I feel nothing other than a need to
escape. Especially when he pretends to inadvertently brush his hand
over my bottom. What does he take me for?

Desperate, I
look over to the table meant for me. It’s empty and the waitress is
cleaning it… but if I go he’ll follow and want to eat with me. The
thought is enough to make me want to hide my head in a toilet bowl
for a very long time. Then, as I study a hair which has fallen onto
his shoulder the oddest thing happens. I feel somebody lean into my
back. I feel the warmth of cloth on the bare skin of my shoulder
blades and a pair of hands on my waist, clasping me firmly and
giving me the slightest tickle along the skin near my armpits.

Please let it
be Bradley Cooper, I think. Or Jamie Dornan. Either will do.

A deep voice
speaks, loud enough for my partner to hear, “Sadie, baby. Sorry I’m
late.”

Okay, so it
isn’t Jamie Dornan but my silent prayers are answered as that
tingle of recognition shoots up my spine. It’s Nicholas. And his
body is pressing against mine in the most delectable way. His
crotch is rubbing against the top of my bottom. His chest is so
close I can feel the buttons of his shirt on my back. His hands are
hot on my sides, tickling and teasing as he grinds sexily against
me. I think I may begin to hyperventilate if he keeps this up.

“
You don’t mind, do you?” he says to my dance partner, who
looks rather deflated at the interruption. The other man moves
aside and as he does—

Oh shit,
shitty shit.

It’s Joel.
He’s standing in front of me or rather dancing in front of me,
having muscled in between Hawaiian shirt guy and myself. He’s so
near I can see the tiny scar he has below the left side of his jaw.
I can smell his manly scent, carefully muted by soap. It’s so
intoxicating I don’t even register that Nicholas and Joel seem to
be together.

Oooohhh
, this is nice, I think instead. I am the meat in a
human sandwich— a sexy, hot, human sandwich.

“
Ariel. Fancy meeting
you
here.” Joel reaches across,
giving Nicholas a high five above my head. “And here was me
thinking mermaids couldn’t leave the ocean.”

Ting
.
The lights go on in my brain. I stop dancing and look from Joel to
Nicholas. I am utterly confused. What is going on? Have I fallen
asleep from too many margaritas and am dreaming about some sort of
three-way on the dance floor? And why are Joel and Nicholas
high-fiving over my head? Was this planned???

“
Ariel?” Nicholas questions.

“
I’d rather we didn’t go there,” I reply.

“
Too late. He already knows.” Joel looks at me with
fascination, clearly wondering what I’m going to do with this
knowledge. I’m quivering with excitement or it could be shock. I
have no freaking idea what’s happening or how these two objects of
my desire ended up being in my presence at the same
time.