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She rests her forearms against the cabana’s railing and inhales, and I can see her shoulders fall, relaxed.
Nan and Maggie have set up shop on the shaded lower level, but Gwen headed upstairs right away for sun. I followed her for access to the slide into the ocean.
“It suits you,” I say, unbuttoning my shirt and folding it into my backpack.
“What does?” She basks in the rays’ warmth, her face fixed skyward.
“The sun. The sea. You seem… I dunno. At peace. It’s good.”
She turns, leaning back against the railing. Her eyes are hidden by her ridiculously large sunglasses, but they don’t hide the way her jaw moves and her throat tenses with a swallow. “Thanks,” is all she says, her voice restrained.
I wonder whether the tension stems from the physicality of last night or from what comes next: tearing herself out of her comfort zone and telling me more about herself. I don’t know which type of closeness unnerves her more.
“Mind if I—” I nod toward the railing. She shifts sideways, then turns back to the water.
“Free country,” she says, taking an extra step away from me when I reach her. She settles in after a moment of quiet, relaxing again, taking it all in.
“It’s really beautiful up here.”
“Sure is,” she answers. Then, “The water looks so warm.”
“Only one way to find out.” I lower myself onto the slide and let it carry me into the Caribbean. It is warm, and it feels great to be like a kid again, so I climb up the ladder into the cabana, then up the steps, then into the slide and do it all over again.
The next time I reach the top, Gwen’s throwing her cover-up and hat onto the wrap-around couch, and she races me toward the slide’s entrance. “Don’t think you get all the fun,” she taunts. She grabs the bars at the top of the slide; I grab her waist. She curls in on herself, shrill laughter escaping her wide smile. It’s incredible, this easiness between us now, and I hope she can view getting to know each other in the same way, instead of it just being something her grandma wants us to do.
“Oh my God, Sawyer!” she shrieks, squirming in my arms, and if it’s the only way I ever hear her scream my name I’ll still die happy, because there’s joy in it. Boundless, limitless, free joy.
I set her on a padded chair a few feet away and send myself careening down the slide again, beaming when she collides into me at the bottom.
“Nothing has ever let me get to know a person better than having their elbow break my ribs.”
She flicks water at my face and smirks. “Well, maybe next time don’t cut the line, and I won’t have to hurt you.”
“You kids okay down there?” Nan asks. She sits up to peer at us over an old issue of People and I send a nod her way.
“Fine, Nan. We’re good.” I look at Gwen’s face for approval, and it’s amazing how she looks so pretty with her makeup on, but so stunning here, with none of it. Her smile turns more content than playful, and the blue in her eyes matches the water that dances around us.
We’re so good.
There are two floating mats hanging on the wall of the first floor, so Gwen and I drape ourselves over those in the water and venture further down the shoreline, out of earshot of our grandmothers and other guests in their own cabanas. It’s time to learn more about each other, and part of me hopes Gwen will fess up to being a hoarder, or someone who bites their toenails, just so saying goodbye in four days doesn’t suck so bad.
“Tell me everything, Sawyer Dawson. Who are you?” She’s piled her hair atop her head, and it curls where it escapes her messy bun. She stares me down through her dark glasses.
“Well, I’m six-three, a Pisces, and I’m on a cruise with my grandmother.”
“Ha, ha. I’m serious.”
“So am I. If you’re looking for something specific, just ask. What would you like to know, Gwen?”
She thinks for a moment, then asks, “How’s your marathon training going?”
“It’s fine,” I shrug. “Hard to keep up with it on the ship, but it’s just a week, and I’m getting some cardio in, at least.” Never mind that my heart rate was more elevated just sitting with her last night and thinking about her afterward than it has been on any of my workouts on this trip.
“Have you always been a runner?” She nods when I shake my head. “You don’t really have a runner’s body.”
I feign offense. “Ouch.”
“No… it’s just that, you’re really tall. And muscular. Like…” she motions to her chest and shoulders. “Anyway. I was just surprised when I heard you were training. But it’s cool. What made you decide to do it?”
