Page 35 of Between Then and Now
“Careful, John, or you’ll end up being the star of this documentary,” I tease, nudging his arm.
“I’ve always said to myself that I’d be an actor if this doctor thing doesn’t work out,” he says in a serious tone that makes me fall silent, wondering if he is being honest. Before I could ask, he continues, “I’m kidding, Bon. But it’s nice to know you’d believe that.”
I laugh, relieved. “You had me there for a second. But honestly, you’d probably make a decent actor. You’ve got the charm for it.”
He grins. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to saving lives. More job security.”
“Good call,” I say, nodding. “Plus, you get to wear those cool scrubs. They’re basically a superhero costume.”
John chuckles. “True. And I get to use phrases like ‘stat’ and ‘code blue.’ Very dramatic.”
We laugh all the way to the tents at the coast. When we arrive, I start to set up my film gear. My stomach suddenly growls, protesting the absence of breakfast, so I head over to the nearest tent to ask if they have a biscuit or something.
“I have some saltines,” a voice says from behind me. I whirl around to find Alexa approaching with a warm smile. “Here, have some, Bon.” She hands me a pack of crackers. I take one and grin back. There’s no denying that Alexa is pretty—likesomeone who could waltz right off the runway at a Victoria’s Secret fashion show.
“I heard you and Ryan are going on a date this weekend,” I say once we’re alone in the tent, a touch of curiosity in my voice.
“Yeah, he was really cute trying to ask me out,” Alexa replies, starting to tie her hair up. “Was he always that awkward?”
“I guess you could say that,” I say, feeling a bit uncertain about how to steer this conversation. “He’s only like that when he’s self-conscious, especially around someone he likes.” And since he’s so relaxed around me, it’s clear he doesn’t see me that way at all. And that’s completely fine because neither do I.
Alexa blushes, and I watch as the color spreads across her cheeks like a soft blush of pink. “Well, I kinda liked him since med school. I just never imagined he would like me back. Guess I’m the lucky one,” she chuckles.
As much as I want to find a reason to dislike Alexa, just to validate the weird flutter in my chest whenever I think about them dating, I can’t bring myself to. The woman is too precious for her own good. “Girl, what are you talking about?” I ask with a hint of playful disbelief. Alexa looks a bit surprised by my tone. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve seen in ages. Any guy would be lucky to be liked by you. Not the other way around. Don’t ever doubt that. You’re the prize, hun.”
“Thanks, Bon,” she says, her smile warm and genuine. Just then, residents and tourists start to flock into the tent, and Alexa begins giving them aid with practiced efficiency. I set up my film gear, preparing to capture the necessary footage.
As I’m filming, I try to focus on the ambiance here. It’s different from the triage by the inn. There are more children andpeople relaxing by the beach, more first aid instead of planned consultations, and there are also more tourists.
I can’t help but find it ironic how I’m here filming and documenting everyone’s lives–from the doctors to the locals and the tourists–while my own life feels so out of structure, it’s like a blooper reel. I try to refocus on capturing the perfect beach scene for fillers in my documentary. I want to not only capture the essence of the medical mission but also give the viewers a glimpse of life on the island.
I glance over at Alexa, who’s busy handing out supplies and managing the small crowd. Her movements are graceful and efficient, and she seems to have a natural ease about her, making it clear she’s good at what she does. And my thoughts shift to how perfect they are for one another. Ryan is the same–efficient, practical, attractive.
And as if a huge beach ball has been thrown at me, my mind detaches itself from thoughts of the documentary and involuntarily goes back to our practice date last night. It was doing well, and I was handling it better than I expected until our scene at the cliff. I almost lost it. I distance myself from the tents and sit on one of the rocks by the shore to compose myself.
Back home, I’ve always been teased by my friends every time I go on dates. They say I morph into someone I’m not. And I deny it, but they’re right. I try so hard not to let my entire personality show because as a child, I was consistently told to tone it down or stop acting too much. I know I come across as someone who’s confident and opinionated, someone who’s so sure of herself. But there’s this part of me that, truth be told, is constantly battling with the urge to dial it all back.
It's like I have two versions of myself: the one who’s bubbly, loud, and unapologetically quirky when I’m with friends,and the one who tries to be more restrained and reserved when I’m on a date or any situation where I’m trying to impress someone. It's not that either version is wrong or fake. I know both are genuine parts of me, but it’s like I’m constantly toggling between them, trying to find a balance that feels right. It’s more like they’re two pieces of a puzzle that somehow don’t always fit together. I suppose I’ve built these versions of myself to fit into what I think people want to see.
And last night, my brain was confused. Because Ryan is my friend, and he knows who I am—quirks and all. But in the illusion of a date, it felt like I was performing for an audience that already had front-row seats to the other version of me. The line between who I am and who I think I should be blurred, making it even harder to navigate. That’s probably the only reason why I was so disoriented.
I gave him advice to just be himself, but I have yet to follow that advice. It’s ironic, really. Here I am, doling out pearls of wisdom like I’ve got it all figured out, while I’m still fumbling around in my own mind. I’ve never met anyone with whom I felt comfortable enough to shed my layers, to let them see the unfiltered version of me.
Just as I’m deep in thought, John sits next to me, handing me a bottle of water.
“You okay, Bon?” he asks as he opens the lid for me. “You’re staring at nothing.”
“I’m staring at the horizon,” I say defensively.
“Same thing,” John chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners with that easygoing humor I’ve come to appreciate.
I take the water bottle and sip, the cool liquid a welcome distraction. “Just thinking,” I admit, trying to sound casual.
“About what?” he asks.
“Uh... Life… Stuff.” I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips.
John nods, looking out at the horizon with me. “Life stuff is tricky, which is why I usually just ignore it,” he agrees.
