Page 33 of Harper's Holiday Romance
She was intense.
Too intense.
Her eyes softened, but no conversation was attempted. We merely glared at one another from across the table, willing to engage in conversation with anyone but each other. It was the most bizarre experience. I barely knew Julia, but I had created a picture in my head, a solid character profile with a disturbingly long list of cons. There had to be some pros other than her education and her remarkably strong eye contact.
I hated being a pessimist.
I can make this work, I told myself.
Or I could pretend I was ill. I had time to decide.
7
The turtles deserved my full undivided attention. My circumstance was less than ideal, understatement of the century, but I refused to let Julia Hanlow negatively impact my turtle experience. I spent the whole night researching baby turtles; after the tenthawwescaped my lips, Billie told me to be quiet or she’d smother me with a pillow. She liked her sleep.
Our hotel had its own turtle saving programme, which made me admire them even more. They might be terrible at saving the environment when it came to hand towels, but at least they saved the turtles.
I’d agreed to meet Julia by the lobby at eight fifteen. Luckily, we didn’t have to travel far, a thirty-minute round trip and 2–3 hours attending to the turtles meant I could be back by lunch.
Julia was perched on the wooden bench when I arrived. Her blonde hair was in the same double French braids she donned by the pool; it seemed to be her go-to style, and I was slightly jealous. The decision to cut in a fringe meant I lost the ability to remove my hair from my face without looking like a fashion challenged preteen with giant silver sliding clips. She wore a pair of black Birkenstocks with some baggy linen shorts and a cropped white vintage T-shirt.
“Hi,” I said politely. She looked up, but there was no trace of a smile.
“Look, you don’t need to come. I can tell my parents you tagged along, and you can go to the pool with your friends,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, erm.”
“Unless you want to come? I mean, it’s a free country; we don’t need to sit together on the bus or anything.”
“Wow, you really know how to make someone feel welcome, don’t you?” I crossed my arms. “I bet you make your patients feel so at ease,” I said sarcastically.
“Don’t bring my job into this.”
“You started it,” I scoffed.
“I don’t need a pity tagalong, okay? I’m happy visiting the turtles on my own.”
I was happy never knowing you, but here we are, was what I wanted to say, but the guilt would’ve torn me apart. Billie liked to inform me that I struggled to be mean. She was right, but I could’ve had worse flaws.
“That works for me. I’m happy visiting them on my own too.”
“Great.” She grabbed her bag and made a beeline for the minibus; it had a giant turtle on the side, so I could only assume it was our transportation.
“Fantastic,” I seethed.
Once I got comfortable, as far away from Julia as possible, I began furiously texting in our group chat.
Me
This is all your fault.
Billie
What happened?
Me
She’s rude. AND she’s ruining my turtle experience.
