Page 48 of High Season
“I mean, what’s samphire when it’s at home?”
There’s a flicker on his face then, a smile almost catching his mouth.
“Oh, I was actually thinking of going for the sea buckthorn,” he shoots back.
They grin at each other, a secret alliance formed.
“You know,” she says. “They haven’t taken our order yet. We could absolutely still cut and run.”
Nic hesitates. Places down his menu.
“I actually know a really fun spot not that far away from here,” he says.
“Do they do sea buckthorn? Because I really had my heart set on the sea buckthorn.”
They pause, the possibility hanging briefly between them. It sends a hum of excitement through Josie. Like schoolchildren, daring each other not to get caught.
“There’s a path down to the beach right over there.”
“On the count of three?”
“One, two,three.”
They go to a tiny shack on the beach, away from the main strip. Wooden benches are set out on the sand, fairy lights strung up between poles. There’s music, a bonfire in a metal barrel, a makeshift dance floor of wooden pallets.
They order bottles of beer and thick, buttery baguettes stuffed with crab meat. Nic tells Josie about the shop, and his year backpacking in Southeast Asia in his late teens, the two seasons diving in Thailand. Josie tells him how she always wanted to go traveling without feeling awkward about the very obvious reason why she never has, and they compare bucket lists. Goa. Cuba. The Philippines.
They’re two drinks in by the time their food arrives, and an ease has fallen between them.
“You know,” says Nic. “I always had the biggest crush on you when I was a kid.”
Josie swallows a mouthful of baguette.
“You did not. Nobody had a crush on me.”
“For real! When I was about twelve or thirteen. I basically thought you were the perfect woman.”
“I dread to think what thirteen-year-olds look for in a woman.”
“I just thought you were super cool. That day that you and Hannah first took me diving?” He let out a mock wolf whistle. “I didn’t realize that girls did stuff like that, before then. Man, I was smitten.”
“You were creepyandsexist when you were thirteen?” Josie says. “No wonder it took us this long to go on a date.”
“I mean, I hadn’t actually talked to many girls at that age, so my understanding of them was fairly skewed,” says Nic. “Obviously, you and Hannah proved me wrong. You were always much braver than I was. Still are, probably.”
Josie wipes her fingers on a paper napkin.
“Sorry to burst your dream-woman bubble,” she says. “But I haven’t been diving in years. I only ever really did because it came with the territory, if you were friends with Hannah.”
Hannah had known the water. The best swimming spots and the best diving spots. She knew where the water was clear and safe and where there were jagged rocks right beneath the surface that could catch you and tear your skin to shreds.
“I’m not even sure I could do it now,” she admits.
“’Course you could. It’s like riding a bike. Hey, we could go tomorrow, if you like? Take the boat out, go for a swim around the bay? Diving optional.”
Josie almost says no.
A date on her third day here was a crazy, out-of-character decision, but two dates in two days?
