Page 24 of Reckless Girls
“We were thinking of Hawaii after this,” Eliza says, wrapping both arms around Jake’s waist, her fingers curled around the wrist of her opposite hand. He has an arm casually draped across her shoulders, his other hand holding his own beer. “Jake’s been loads of times, but I never have.”
“It’s beautiful,” I tell her, and she gestures to our surroundings.
“As beautiful as this?”
I look back out at the sea again, at how the clear aqua bleeds into darker blue farther out, contrasting with the bright sapphire of the sky.
“I don’t know if any place is as beautiful as this,” I say, and I mean it.
Nico joins us, Brittany trailing just behind.
“Bonfire, nice,” he says approvingly to Jake, who introduces him to Eliza, who gives Nico the same warm hug, the same bright smile.
“I’ll go get dinner, shall I?” Eliza looks at our group over the rims of her sunglasses. “You’ll eat with us, right? A proper celebration?”
Given that our plans for tonight were Spam and rice, I nod, maybe a little too eagerly.
She gives Jake a quick kiss before heading for the Zodiac, which they’ve dragged onto the sand.
“Need some help?” Brittany asks, and Eliza beckons with one arm.
“Wouldn’t say no!”
Amma watches quietly, still standing in the shallows, her arms crossed. But then Nico is taking a beer from Jake, and we’re lighting the fire, and I don’t have time to wonder what her deal is.
WHENELIZA HAD OFFERED USdinner, I hadn’t been expecting a feast.
Grilled fish; oysters, cold and briny; roasted potatoes; delicate spears of asparagus wrapped in bacon; and a dessert that appears to be made of strawberries and whatever it is that actual angels eat.
I haven’t eaten this well in months, not since coming to Maui, really, and Eliza just keeps flitting around, offering more, opening some new container full of some new delight and constantly insisting that we take some, that they brought too much, that she gets “overly excited” in the kitchen.
And the wine…
Bottles and bottles, just as cold and crisp as the beer, and by the time the sun has set and it’s grown dark on the island, I’m full and drunk, and beyond happy.
I’mcontent.
It’s a sensation I haven’t felt in a while. Years, maybe.
Jake stands, popping open a bottle of champagne. We all give a drunken shout when it froths from the neck of the bottle, as Jake sloppily fills our glasses.
Once we all have some champagne, he stands by the fire, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair mussed, and lifts his glass. “To Meroe Island,” he intones, and we all raise our drinks. “To those unfortunate fuckers who crashed and died here—”
“Boooo!” Eliza says, reaching out with one long leg to kick his shin. “No sad shit!”
Jake catches her ankle easily, pulling her leg up and, in a surprisingly graceful move given how much he’s had to drink, leans down to press a kiss against the top of her foot, their eyes meeting in a way that makes my cheeks suddenly flush hot.
“My beloved is right,” he says, letting her foot fall back to the sand. “No sad shit. Only jubilation for new friends, and a hell of a first night together.”
We all cheers to that.
All of us, except for Amma.
BEFORE
Rome is better.
Maybe it’s the heat, or the bustle of the busy streets. The fact that they’re walking so much every day that they’re exhausted when they fall into their beds at night. Or it could be that this time, they were smarter, and picked a hostel right in the middle of things, not far from the Spanish Steps, and the nights are never too quiet.
