Page 21 of Coincidentally Kismet

Will chuckles, reaching out to take Micah’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “I’m Will. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Micah. Although depending on how close you are with this one”—he points at me,the nerve—“I’m not sure how long you will be a fan of mine.” With that, Will turns and walks into the bar, leaving us standing on the sidewalk.

“Umm...explain. Now.” Micah is still blushing from the touch of Will’s hand and is fanning his face to cool off.

“That would be my ex.” I shrug, trying to act like I don’t understand Micah’s visceral reaction to being in Will’s proximity.

“So you’re saying I have a chance. Noted.” He winks at me. Micah and I have become pretty close over the last year of working together. I know he would never cross any lines, but I also know that he is absolutely going to tease me about this for the rest of my life.

“Go for it, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when you get your heart broken in the worst way.” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Should we just go in and get a table since Lo is clearly running late?”

“I’m not late, I’m right here.” Lo walks up in between us and wraps an arm around each of our shoulders, steering us toward the door and into the bar. “Why are you both blushing?”

“I’m not,” I say at the same time Micah chimes in with, “I met Will.”

“Hoo-boy, I know, right? Tell this one she should stop acting like fate didn’t bring him back into her life for a reason.”

“Maybe fate brought him into my life.” Micah winks at us both and we laugh.

Tiki Tonga is every beachgoer’s dream destination. With sand-covered floors, swings in lieu of barstools except for at the tables, and a giant tiki statue in the corner lit by a colorful array of spotlights. The ambiance screams give me a piña colada, some sunnies, and a coconut bra. It’s packed to the gills in here with patrons spilling out onto the ocean front patio while the Beach Boys blare from the sound system.

We spot our group, Smith, Ruiz, Butler, Amy, and of course Will, holding down a table with exactly three stools open. Smith waves, as if we could have possibly missed him in his neon pink Hawaiian shirt. We each grab a stool and a beer from the bucket on the table at the same time that a balding middle-aged man—with skin so leathery, he has clearly been laying off the sunscreen for the better part of twenty years—says, “Welcome to Tiki Trivia, where the questions leave you twisted and tangled more than the tiki bar.” He chuckles to himself as the microphone makes a loud screech..

I can’t help the bubbling burst of giggles that rips out of me. The trivia host is adorably endearing in the worst way. My table mates look at me like I’ve lost my mind—well, all of them but Will, who is also laughing.Don’t laugh at the things I think are funny.

The host, who I am calling Larry for no good reason other than it feels right, explains the rules and tells us to refer to the guidelines and game answering devices on our tables. Glancing down, I see the rules list:

All teams must have four players.

Questions must be answered on the game answering device within thirty seconds.

Team rankings and results will be posted on the projector screen above Tonga the Tiki God.

The winning team earns a free round of drinks and first choice for karaoke.

I look up from the paper to see a smiling Will, who has traded places with Ruiz to sit directly across from me, presumably for no other reason than to try to throw me off my game. He knew that one of us would end up singing tonight before we even made our stupid bet. I plan on winning though. Snooze ya later, Rambo.

“How should we split up the teams?” Lo asks, disgustingly holding hands with Smith across the table. Get a room, lovebirds.

“Cam and I need to be on separate teams.” Will dodges the elbow that comes from his sister as he says it.

“Okay, let’s just do the three of us and Amy. Does that work?” Lo points to Micah and me as Amy happily hops off her stool and carries it over to our side of the table.

“Alright Tiki Trivia contestants, the first question is loading in three...two...one,, goooooo!” Larry announces as our devices light up with the first question.

What crop is traditionally produced on the Kona Coast of Hawaii’s Big Island?

We huddle together awkwardly, and I tell my group I know the answer. It has to be coffee. They nod in agreement, and I type and submitcoffee beans, watching the board to make sure we got it right. That was an easy one, so I’m not surprised to see that most teams answered correctly.

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