Page 82 of The Vacation Mix-Up
This time, I do giggle. “I have no idea.”
Shrugging, he hands over two purple Danish banknotes. The woman goes to give him some coins in change, but he refuses. Once again, warmth waves through my body. He’s wholesome… or stupid, because he could’ve just paid a hundred dollars for all I know.
“Pick one,” he says, turning to face me, his palm open to showcase the bracelets.
I blink and touch my chest. “Me?”
“Yes. But not the pink one. That’s for Poppy.”
Hesitating, because I’m sure Poppy would love all three, I keep my hand pressed to my body. “Are you sure?”
“Just pick a damn bracelet, Riles.”
I bite my thumbnail and choose the blue one, and he gently stretches the bracelet and loops it onto my wrist.
“Thank you,” I say, adjusting it and running my fingers over the beads. “That’s very sweet of you.”
“No sweat.”
Another damn wave of warmth ripples through my body, and if I don’t look away from his crinkling eyes, there’s a good chance I’ll combust. So I rotate my arm, admiring my gift. Georgia certainly wouldn’t approve if I wore it to work, and that act of potential rebellion strangely thrills me.
“Where to now?” I ask, still happily eyeing my new pretty accessory.
“I read online there’s some stone carvings, so maybe we could find tho—” Riley chokes, spits, and then gags.
I jump back. “What’s wrong?”
“Bug,” he croaks, clearing his throat.
“Did you eat it?”
“Yep.”Cough. “I think so.”
“Nooo!” I cover my mouth with my hand.
He spits again, then swipes at his face like a madman. “What the fuck? They’re attacking me.”
Cradling my waist, I double over as he turns in circles, ducking and weaving.
“Leave me alone.” Swat. Swipe. Spit. “Jesus!”
Laughing uncontrollably, I snort in a breath, choke, and immediately snort it out again.
He stares at me.
I stare back.
“You too?”
I gag, not once but twice, then quickly turn my back on him and blow out all the snot before covering my nose and mouth with my hand and turning back around, horrified. “It went up my nose.”
He bursts into laughter. “At least we can say we tried a Greenlandic delicacy.”
“I’d rather eat seal,” I mumble.
Continuing to swat the pesky fly-like bugs, we hurry along gravel roads and paths, past colorful building after colorful building, eventually finding a grocery store, where we buy some repellent. Then we hike up a hill to the highest viewpoint we can find and take in the harbor, our grand ship idle and somewhat incongruous amongst the arctic landscape.
“It’s as if we’re on top of the world here,” I say, awestruck by the view.
