Page 59 of Here for a Good Time
“Yeah,” Zwe says, looking away on the hoarse word as though he knows what I was up to, and is doing me the favor of not letting me find what I was looking for.
In a scene right out of a movie, the first droplets start to fall right as we reach the zip-lining tower’s base. It’s a high but pretty bare setup: wooden stairs that make a zigzag pattern to the platform at the top, which, thankfully, has a roof.
“So, not to bethatperson,” I say with my most apologetic smile, “but is there a toilet nearby?”
Leila laughs and points at a narrow, unmarked path winding away from the tower. “It’s not far, just a few feet away,” she says.“Believe it or not, you’re not the first person to need to use the bathroom after seeing this tower.”
I thank her and power walk, almost bursting with relief when the wooden shack comes into view. I was preparing myself for a hole-in-the-ground situation, but to my surprise, there’s a proper toilet inside, and even a small window with mosquito netting above the door for ventilation.
When I come back, I’m half expecting Leila and Zwe to have already started climbing, but they’re still waiting where I left them.
“Since we might be here a while, I might as well go, too. Do you want to go first or should I?” she asks Zwe.
He gestures at the path with an open palm. “Ladies first.”
After anywhere from five seconds to five minutes of torturous silence, myflightresponse kicks in, and I begin to craft some pathetic statement like “Maybe I should get started on the climb first, so I’m not holding you two back.”
“We were saying that we should take off our socks and shoes when we reach the top. So that we don’t get trench foot,” Zwe says first. It’s the “we” that catches me off guard. They’re a “we” now?
“I don’t hate her, you know.”
He pivots his attention from some faraway treetop to my face, and as much as I want to turn away from his sudden scrutiny, I force myself to maintain eye contact.
“Don’t lie to me. Genuine question, why do you dislike her so much?” he asks, sounding like he’s done with all of this.
“No, I actuallyreallylike her,” I protest, aware that that’s exactly what you say when you dislike someone. “I think she’s funny and smart and thanks to her, we’re not getting trench foot.”
“So then what is it? What—” He tugs at his hair in frustration. “What is your complaint about her?”
I wonder how honest of an answer he’s asking for. How honest of an answerI’mwilling to give him. “I think—”
“Because all she’s done so far is keep us alive. Hell, she was even asking questions about your stupid fucking book!”
It comes out of left field, almost knocking me out. “What does that mean?” I ask, feeling my defenses raise. Turns out I’m not as solidly aflightperson as I thought. Turns out that sometimes, I pickfight.
“Nothing,” he says quickly. His expression is one of regret, but it’s not because he regrets what he said. It’s that he regrets saying it tome.
“No, what did you mean by my—”
In yet another act of great fucking timing, the universe intervenes and sends Leila back at this precise moment.
Judging by the fact that she loudly clears her throat from far away, it’s obvious that she heard us arguing. “All yours,” she says to Zwe, who gives a curt nod before marching away.
“So, um, do you think the rain will get worse?” I mumble. I hold out an open palm, but my hand stays dry. “Oh, it’s stopped?”
Leila imitates my gesture. “Seems like it. But that’s the weather on this island. Likes to tease.”
“Is there a chance the storm won’t come either?”
She grimaces at my obvious hopefulness. Instead of answering, she indicates upward as though to say,Look for yourself, what would you say?
I let out an embarrassed laugh when I see that the dark clouds that rolled in while we were on the beach are still there, and still very dark. “Actually, never mind.”
“We’ll be okay, though,” she says. She knocks on one of the wooden beams. “This thing was built to withstand anything.”
“Even, like—” I search my brain for an objectively-ridiculous-yet-at-this-point-possible scenario. “A raccoon attack?”
“There aren’t raccoons around here,” she snorts.
