Page 43 of Dirty Daria
“What if it’s hungry?”
“Look at all the fish. If the shark is hungry, he can eat the fish.”
“Makes sense.” And it does. But I’m still wary. I can’t think of anything worse than death by shark attack. Actually, that’s not true, I can think of a lot of things that would be worse. But it’s at least one of the top ten.
I push all shark and death thoughts out of my mind, because this place we are staying in is incredible. We have our own little luxury villa, just me and Daria, filled with anything and everything we could ever need including a large screen TV that disappears into the wall when you aren’t watching it.
Sadly, for them, Mack and Reed have to stay in the main hotel where David and Laurel are. I don’t understand why David and Laurel don’t want to be in a bungalow over the water, but what do I know? I would have stayed in the hotel if it meant sharing a room with Reed.
He and I shared another moment at the wedding, before he got all upset and drunk. And I was hoping that I’d somehow have to room with him once we got here, yet I’m bunking with Daria.
“Would you rather be in a room with Mack?”
“Pfft. No.”
“At the wedding, it looked like you two were reaching an understanding.”
“We were not.”
“Dar, when do you let this go?”
“I don’t know if I ever do. He told me on the plane how he feels. Again. But I just don’t see how we can ever have a future with my past being what it is.”
“It’s so Romeo and Juliet.”
“Didn’t they both die? What are you really saying?”
I laugh. “No, it’s just romantic is all.”
“They were crossed in the sky.”
“Star-crossed.”
“I will never understand the way you say things.”
“It’s an idiom,” I say. “They never make sense.”
“Then why do you use them?”
“Because everyone knows what we mean.”
“I don’t.”
I wave a hand in the air at her. We have this conversation all the time, about sayings we use in America and how confusing they can be for someone whose first language isn’t English.
“So, what’s my role in this op?”
“This isn’t an op and you don’t have a role.”
“If it’s not an op, why are we here?”
Daria shrugs. “Vacation.”
She’s changing into her bathing suit, a white and black, horizontal striped, two-piece with a bandeau top and low-rise bottoms. I can’t help but admire how strong her body is. “For real, how often do you have to workout to have abs like that?”
“Every day.”
“That’s awful.”
