My head pounds like a sledgehammer, and the sunlight pouring into the bedroom only makes matters worse. I turn over to block it from my view, but shifting my body only makes me want to throw my guts up. I clench my eyes shut and feel for my phone, but it’s not in the bed with me. How did I even get in my bed?
I push myself up and regret it even more. The vodka comes back to me like a slap in the face. What the hell did I drink? I remember chunks of pineapple. I remember that it was good. But I don’t remember coming home or where I put my phone.
I crawl over the blankets, my head feeling like a blimp, and make my way to the foot of the bed where my purse sits on the floor. I reach into it and feel around for my phone. It’s hidden under a bottle of sparkling water. I don’t even drink sparkling water.
Then I sober up fast. Dominic gave me the water. I was rinsing my mouth out because I threw up on a plant. I was under the porch light, and bugs were surrendering to it like it was an alien spacecraft coming to abduct them. I hope I didn’t say anything stupid about bugs to him.
According to my phone, it’s late into the afternoon. Dad and Dominic should already be back, but the bungalow is completely quiet. I wonder if Dad even knew I came home last night. For all I know, he thinks I’m still at Sloane’s house. And speaking of, she’s texted me multiple times this morning.
I scroll through them, reading her account of how I asked for fresh pineapple in my drink before going back for seconds and thirds. She isn’t sure how much I actually had, but I puked on a hibiscus plant after apparently hugging up on Dominic.
“I’m not sure what you said to him, but you were clingy and smiled a lot. Maybe he can fill in those gaps, if you want him to.”
Oh God. I cringe upon seeing the word ‘clingy’ in print. There’s no telling what the hell I said to him while I was inebriated. Hell, I might’ve asked him to marry me and let me travel the world with him and my dad. I could have said absolutely anything under the influence of pineapple and vodka. At least that’s what I’m blaming it on.
After showering and eating some crackers out of the kitchen cabinet, I feel well enough to text Sloane back and let her know I’m okay. I thank her for helping get me home safely last night, but she assures me that it was all Dominic’s idea. I should’ve known my bad choices would open the door for her to put in a good word for him. Unlike silly boys, I can see straight through her subtle ways.
But I don’t need Sloane to seep into my subconscious. I know Dominic isn’t the horrible person I thought he was. A little spoiled and definitely not hurting for money (or good looks), but he’s more human than I gave him credit for. After all, I was the one falling apart last night. He behaved, proving yet again that he’s not the guy who is trash talked on surf forums.
I decide to walk down to the resort to eat something of substance, but two familiar faces meet me halfway down the pier. Dad drags a surfboard back with him while Dominic talks to him, moving his arms too much not to be excited over something. Must’ve been a good day for catching waves.
“The dead has risen,” Dad calls out. “That must’ve been some hell of a sleepover for you to have slept all day.”
In moments like this, I’m almost certain that Dad knows more than he lets on. He probably knows about every time I snuck out of the bedroom window at his house. I’ll bet he knows all about those bonfires and late nights, my partying habits, and how I always manage to make it home before the sun comes up. If he does, though, he never condemns me for it. Maybe he knows I’ll eventually condemn myself. Last night’s antics are definitely making me rethink my life.
“I’m starving,” I say as they approach me. “I think I’m going to walk down to the resort and get something.”
“Want company?” Dominic asks. He smiles like the universe has gifted him with a brand new surf maneuver. “I can tell you all my awesome surf news while you eat.”
I shrug. “Sure, if you want,” I say. I try to play it cool, but I’m growing increasingly worse at playing it cool each and every day that I’m on this island.
There’s a part of me that’s ready to get back to California and back to normal life, but leaving St. Catalina Island means leaving behind Sloane and our new friendship. Leaving the island means that I may not see Dominic much, even if Dad is coaching him. This place has given me something new, even though I’m not quite sure what that something new is. I just know I’m not the same girl who stepped off the plane a few weeks ago with Dominic’s busted boards.
Dad takes Dominic’s board back to the bungalow, and the pretty boy follows me down the pier toward the resort.
“Thank you for your help last night,” I tell him. “I normally don’t lose control like that. I can’t even remember half of what I said, but I do remember throwing up and you forcing me to drink the water.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder and hugs me. “You don’t have to thank me,” he says. “And I’ll even spare you the details of when you confessed your undying love for me.”
I push him off of me. “No,” I say. “Please tell me I didn’t.”
He laughs. “You didn’t. But someday, if you’re lucky, I will tell you exactly what you said.”
“Maybe by then I’ll be ready to hear it,” I say. “So, what awesome surf news do you have?”