Page 53 of Flirting with Trouble

“You haven’t found community in the city?”

She shakes her head. “No, and I really miss it.”

“Then you’ll have to come spend some time on the island.”

She gives me a look that says I’m overreaching.

“What? You know you’d enjoy it.” I twirl her again. “But maybe you should tell me what you didn’t like about the places you lived, because there may be some areas we need to avoid on the island.”

“I visited quite a few places when I was there with my family. The island is nothing like the jungles or rainforest where we lived.”

“I don’t know about that. Our wildlife refuge has a lot of creepy-crawlies.”

She gives me an amused look. “My parents spent my entire childhood teaching us how to respect nature. I know which creepy-crawlies to stay away from and which ones I can eat.”

“Then you’re definitely staying in my tent, because I’m not a fan of spiders.”

“So now we’re camping on the island? Am I building us a shelter in the woods, too?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, you did fly me out here for this incredible night. I guess the least I can do is protect you from creepy-crawlies.”

“I knew I could count on you.” I hold her tighter, gazing into her eyes. “One day you’ll see you can count on me, too.” I lower my lips to hers in a long, slow kiss, aching to be closer. When our lips part, I take her hand and say, “Let’s explore the park,” hoping a walk might ease that ache. “Tell me, world traveler, what didn’t you like about traveling?”

“You mean in addition to the obvious, like the lack of flushing toilets and showers in some of the places we lived?”

“That would not be fun. I, too, like my creature comforts. So yes, in addition to those inconveniences.”

“We didn’t always speak the local languages, which made it hard to make friends. Eventually we’d learn enough to get around and we’d find other ways to communicate, but I never really felt like I fit in with the other kids.”

“Because of the language barrier?” I ask as we walk around a tree.

“That was part of it, but it was bigger than that. I think it was just me. I don’t know if it’s just who I was always meant to be or because of the way we grew up, but as I got older, I didn’t want to roam the landscape and build forts or search for animals or plants. I wanted more, and I never really knew what more was. I just knew I wanted it.”

“I understand that.”

“Do you? Because it took me a long time to even figure out what I was feeling.”

“I definitely do. I have a great life on an island I love and a successful business, and I still felt like there was something more out there for me. I didn’t know what it was, but that’s why I started looking to expand my business. I felt like something was missing.” What I don’t say, because I don’t want to scare her off, is that since we’ve gotten closer, I’m realizing that wasn’t the only gap that needed filling. “Sometimes what’s missing in our lives isn’t easy to decipher.”

“You can say that again. I spent a lot of time feeling like I was floundering. We were homeschooled while we traveled, and we didn’t have a lot of structure. I finally realized that was part of the problem. I like having things mapped out, knowing what’s expected, and working toward bigger goals.” She glances at a seesaw as we walk past. “My parents are incredible. They built this amazing life for us and tried to do things we’d each enjoy, but as I got older, all I wanted was a normal life with public school and friends I could relate to. Thankfully, by the time I was a teenager, Seth and Clay felt the same way, and we fought to go back to Ridgeport permanently. My parents finally agreed, and we moved back when I was fifteen.”

She steps onto a large rock, her hair curtaining her face as she comes down the other side. “Sometimes I feel guilty about making my parents come back.”

“I understand why you feel guilty, but you shouldn’t.” That brings her eyes to mine, and I see tension around them. “Your parents had fifteen years of living out their dream, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy to live like that with five kids. Maybe they were ready for some normalcy, too.”

That tension eases. “Maybe.”

“Were things better after you moved? Did you make friends?”

“Yes, but I never felt like I fit in there, either. I grew up with a gaggle of rambunctious brothers in far-off lands. My life wasn’t about hair and makeup or parties and cute boys. I didn’t even know who most of the celebrities were that kids were talking about. It was a whole different type of culture shock, which made me feel a step behind. And for a girl who liked to excel, that made it even harder.”

“Knowing how into those things my sisters were as teenagers, I can only imagine how uncomfortable that was for you.”

“It was, and my parents tried to help, but it’s not like my mom is about anything superficial, either, so it was kind of like the blind leading the blind.” She laughs softly. “She took me to salons and out shopping. We bought gossip magazines, and I tried to copy other girls’ hairstyles and clothing trends. My dad tried to help us, too. He took us to local restaurants and places where kids our age hung out, and I learned how to fit in, but I always felt like an impostor.”

I’m all too familiar with impostor syndrome, and I hate that she experienced it, too. I reach over and take her hand, wanting to heal all her bruised parts. “I’m sorry you felt that way. I hope you don’t feel like an impostor with me.”