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vivianna
I have never touched a surfboard in my life.
That’s all I’m thinking as I wade through the surfboard closet, watching as other contestants claim their boards and walk out toward the ocean. Griffin finds one for me. It looks like a walking pink highlighter, and I love it. I don’t know how to surf, but at least I’ll have a cute board to fail with.
For our second day living together, the Amadors decided to have us surfing, despite the fact that half of us have never surfed in our lives. Griffin and I blink as Dominic, Marco and Esme take to the sea like the born-and-bred coastal Californians they are. Everleigh and Wyatt watch blankly. Dominic paddles back to lure Saanvi into the ocean.
Griffin and I are made from concrete and definitely not sand, but Griffin seems utterly determined to become a master surfer in a day, so he intently watches the others figure out their boards.
The most I know about surfing was from the Miami vacation with Reese. Her vacation fling taught us some of the basics at a surfing spot he worked at. I picked up a few tricks, but it’s been years.
Still, I try to channel that trip again, paddling out into the open sea, climbing onto my board and attempting to catch a wave. I do catch a wave and ride it temporarily, but I also lose my balance and get a face full of ocean water.
When I resurface, Griffin’s standing, arms crossed. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“No way you’re saying that from the shore,” I shoot back, board held underneath my arm.
Griffin dips his head, grabbing his board and paddling toward me in some sort of challenge. “I’m gonna do that,” He says, pointing at Dominic doing some wild move. A rodeo flip, someone points out.
Now, how Griffin is going to pull that off without ever having touched a surfboard in his life before is going to be interesting. “Don’t die,” I say, watching him stand in the ocean, board under arm as he waits for a good wave to appear.
My heart catches in my throat as I watch Griffin find his wave, jump onto the board and ride it. All things considered, when he rises midair, he mimics the move well enough.
That is, before he crashes into the waves.
“The eagle has landed!” Someone cries out, and I laugh, albeit nervously as I tread over to where Griffin’s board is floating. Griffin, on the other hand, is nowhere in sight, completely submerged beneath the ocean.
Something sour curls up in my stomach until the man in question rises out of the air like a killer whale, laughing hysterically. I’m not laughing and when he gets back to me I give him a push in the chest to let him know.
“Worried?” Griffin coos, his hand holding mine in place before I can pull back.
“No,” I lie. I’m distracted, completely thrown off by his proximity, by his damp, darkened hair, by the firm muscles beneath my palm, by his laugh, by him. I’m tipsy, despite not having drank anything today. I pull back before he can grab my hand again.
I back away, torn between wanting him to follow and wanting to take a breath of fresh air and get my senses correct. Griff does follow, at first, eyes curious. I stop him with a hand pressed against his chest. “I’ll be right back,” I whisper. There’s no reason to whisper, but I do it anyway.
“Okay,” he whispers. There’s also no reason for him to whisper, but he does it anyway.
I lean my board against the board shack, wrap a towel around my waist and take a little walk around the beach. A lot of the non-surfers have strayed far away from the water.
Everleigh and Wyatt are walking together, hand in hand. They wave when they see me, and I wave back. Imogen and Brody are gone, my brain observes. I hadn’t even noticed when Brody left the scene, which is strange. Brody’s the type to make an announcement. And Esme has been so busy surfing, I doubt she caught him sneaking off, either.
Aiden’s his friend, I think. Aiden might be with him. But that thought quickly disappears when I see Aiden and Fernanda laying down under a beach umbrella, making out.
Zander might be with Imogen. Come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing either of them this morning. I was too swept up in surfing and Griff to notice. I make my way back to the Beach Villa, hoping to raid the fridge for something. I hum, deciding between yogurt and chocolate pudding when a voice comes up behind me.
“Last time I checked, you were a yogurt girl.”
Zander stands behind me, face blank. He’s in a t-shirt and shorts, arms folded. Out of spite, I take the chocolate pudding instead.
“Why aren’t you with everyone else?” I find myself asking, even though I really don’t want to talk to him right now.
“I don’t know how to surf.” Zander says. He looks me over, and I hug my exposed stomach. “Neither do you,” he says, flatly.
“I have surfed before,” I say. It’s difficult to keep the indignation out of my tone when he’s talking to me—no, about me— like he knows everything, like I’m the same girl I was two years ago when we first met, like he ever really knew that girl in the first place.
He shoulders past me to get to the fridge.
“Where’s Immy, anyway?” I ask. If Zander’s offended by Griff’s nickname for her, he hides it well.
Zander shrugs.
“Griffin didn’t bruise, by the way,” I say. “You know, from when you fastballed that volleyball at his face.”
This conversation’s clearly expired, so I grab my plastic spoon and start making my way out. Eating in the kitchen is clearly no longer an option, and I don’t want to say anything that I might regret. Zander’s always prided himself on being more composed than me. I was “hysterical” and he was “nonchalant”. I’m not letting him have that over me again.
I can’t.
The door slams shut behind me.
***
Everyone winds down after surfing.
Saanvi is all smiley, clinging to Dominic. Marco and Ramona are holding hands. Aiden and Fernanda return all flustered and tanned. Once we arrive at the kitchen, Zander greets a few of the guys (save for Griffin) before leaving. Esme goes up to look for Brody, and comes downstairs to say, “Poor thing’s been nauseous all day.”
“Oh my gosh,” Everleigh says from the sofa, covering her mouth. “I hope it wasn’t the meatloaf.”
“I thought it was good,” Esme says, rubbing her shoulder. “He says he’s hungover.” Esme’s tone doesn’t make it clear whether she believes him or not.
Aiden swoops in to save Brody’s ass. “Yeah, he had a ton of beers last night.”
“How many beers does a guy have to take to be knocked out the whole day?” Dominic asks, eyebrows at his hairline. He has a ping pong paddle in hand and makes a serve toward Aiden, who is at the other end of the living room’s ping pong table.
Although, a hangover makes perfect sense. From the little I know of Brody, he’s a fierce drinker. That doesn’t explain Imogen’s absence, but I’m fairly certain Esme would have come down here a lot less composed if she’d suspected anything between them.
Or maybe not, I think as I eye her. Esme’s never fallen apart. She has that pageant girl smile, like she knows everything will be alright in her life. As though she’ll make sure everything will be alright for her.
Esme sighs. “That’s my man, guys.” She smiles, charmingly.
“Are you going out?” Saanvi asks, peering over the sofa. We all glance at Esme who’s sporting her bag and carrying a dry-cleaner bag, her hair all curled and make-up done.
“You look nice,” Ramona adds from next to me, on the dining table. Me, Ramona, Griffin and Fernanda are engaged in a very competitive game of Uno.
“Yes,” Esme says to Saanvi, “and thanks,” she smiles at Ramona.
“It’s a photoshoot for a brand deal.”
“Working during break?” Aiden asks, blinking once.
“The hustle waits for no one!” Esme says, pointing at him. She adjusts her Coach bag. “Anyway, I figured I’d buy Advil for Brody anyway.”
“Aw,” Everleigh coos.
Esme rolls her eyes. “It’s on my way.” She glances down at her phone. “Uber’s here.” She wiggles her fingers. “Bye!”
After Esme’s gone, everyone decides to do their own thing for dinner. Fernanda wins the game of Uno with a smug grin, and our group disperses, Griffin and I grabbing noodle cups before retreating to our room.
“You’re thinking about something,” Griffin says out of nowhere.
He’s on the sofa bed and I’m on the actual one, legs crossed.
I inhale a forkful of noodles. “Wondering what the Amadors have in store for us next.” It’s not actually a lie. Even though Lovebound follows a similar formula each season, the producers still tend to switch things up.
Griff draws out a long sigh. His lips tip upward into a smirk. “Always thinking about what’s next.”
“What do you want me to think about then?” I ask, watching him wet his lips.
Griff shrugs.
“You?” I find myself asking boldly. I don’t take it back, just watch him wet his lips again and sink further into his sofa bed.
There’s a silence, and I’m brought back to yesterday, to him hearing me call him Griff, to his hands finding my wrist, to him spinning me around so I was facing him, to his deep, flirtatious “I like it.”
Now, he holds my gaze, and I can’t look away.
His lips pull upward. “What if I said yeah?”
I try to laugh it away. “You like attention way too much.”
“Certain attention,” he says as soon as the words leave my mouth.
My face is burning so badly, I don’t know what to say. He’s getting increasingly better at rendering me speechless, and it’s terrible.
I rise to my feet, eyes everywhere but on him. “I should put our cups away.”
Griff rises to his feet now, and he steps close enough so that I have to tilt my head back to see his eyes. He’s still smirking. “Okay.”
I bite on my bottom lip, nodding to myself. “Okay.” I grab his empty noodle cup.
Griff’s eyes are laughing. “I already said that.”
“Right.” What is wrong with me? I back through the doorway and turn on my heel. It’s not too late, but with most people spent from surfing, just about everyone’s in their room. I make my way to the kitchen in the hoodie and shorts I changed into right after the beach, throwing Griff and I’s cups away before making my way back upstairs.
I’m making my way down the hall to Griff and I’s room when I hear a shuffling sound. I freeze. The entire villa is blanketed in darkness. One room away, I see a flurry of red curls.
Imogen.
It’s too dark for her to see me, and soon enough, the door opens and closes, letting light peek through its opening for a brief second.
If I wasn’t frozen before, I’m a statue now. My eyes are practically bulging out of my sockets. One room away from Griffin and I is Brody and Esme. I know that. That was the room they were assigned to the first day we moved into the beach villa.
There’s no good way to explain another girl walking into a guy’s room while his girlfriend is out. And even if there was, the scene doesn’t pair well with both Brody and Imogen’s absence for a large chunk of today. And it’s only worsened given their drunken chemistry our first night at the villa.
Maybe this should give me a sense of satisfaction. My suspicions ended up being valid, Zander is getting screwed over, and if this gets out, both relationships are going to plummet in ratings, meaning Griffin and I have a better shot at winning.
But all I feel is a bitter taste in my mouth, realizing that Esme is out getting painkillers for Brody’s supposed hangover while he’s messing around with Imogen behind her back.
I don’t know for sure, but this scene is beyond telling. I wonder if I should tell anyone now. Telling Griffin would have to elicit all sorts of flashbacks in his head.
I don’t know what the hell Imogen—the apparent serial cheater—is playing at. At the bonfire, she said that betrayal’s the Lovebound curse, and then actively went out of her way to fulfill it. So far, our group has had relatively minimal drama. The Volleyball Incident has been our hottest controversy since moving into the villa. But if Brody and Imogen are actually romantically involved, that type of news will be explosive.