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“My fence is not going to paint itself!”
“Poor poor, Meg,” says the girl on the phone.
This girl is cracking me up. I lean one shoulder against the fence, waiting for this Meg’s response.
“I’m serious, Autumn. Hawaii was a bad idea.”
For the record, Hawaii is never a bad idea.
I cross my arms, lean my head back, and listen. I shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t. My mother raised me better than that. But I’m curious, enough to linger in my pants a little longer.
“What are you going to do, come home to your dead hamster and your ex? Kyle will find out if you come back.”
Why would anyone want to leave? I’m so confused, which is my only excuse for staying and listening to this private conversation.
“Go swimming. Take a hike. Ride on a boat.”
All good suggestions. I’d have a few more—if asked.
The girl behind the fence groans. “Go swimming? You stole my swimsuit!”
“I also replaced it with a new one,” drolls the girl on the phone.
“I suppose I’ll just have to tolerate this place a little longer.” The in-person girl, Meg, breathes out a long, tired sigh.
“Seriously, you don’t deserve it,” the girl on the phone says.
“Amen!” I agree with Meg’s friend a little louder than intended.
The other side of the fence goes quiet.
“Meg?” says the phone girl.
“Ah…I’ll call you back.”
I move from the fence to the palm, five feet away…Sure, I’m still in her space. But hey, beyond the fence is public property. I’m allowed to be here and so are my things.
“At least try to have fun, Meg,” her friend says. “Forget about Kyle and what drove you there. Just do something for yourself. You—”
The phone goes dead, though Autumn-the-friend hadn’t finished speaking. Still, my cue to leave—except the six-foot gate to the resort room opens up, and a long-legged blonde exits. Eyes as blue as the Pacific Ocean blink over to me. Her pale face goes pink before her eyes widen with realization. She hasn’t been alone out here, as she thought.
“Aloha,” I say, finding my voice and pretending I haven’t been examining those legs or listening in on her conversation.
I take a step away from the palm I’m leaning against, when her phone rings again. Her eyes meet mine, and she answers without bothering to look down at the screen.
“Are you willing to swallow your pride yet?” The man on the phone says—loud and impatient. Maybe her phone is stuck on speaker because he’s easy to hear.
I watch her, not bothering to hide that I’m watching. No, instead, I keep one eye on the girl, who is suddenly better than a Hawaiian soap opera. I unfold my chair, as if this were my plan all along, to lounge right here, right beneath my palm, right outside her gate.
She—Meg—blinks away from me and peers down at her phone. Her brows furrow with what she sees there. As if she forgot there was someone on the other end.
“Kyle?” she says. “You FaceTimed? Why are you—"
“I’ll give you five hundred dollars…that is if you’ll get the ticket switched into Carma’s name before tomorrow.”
“Excuse me?”
“We both know you aren’t going, Meg,” he says—and not kindly.
