Page 24 of The Other Side of Apart
The couple sits on the beach like it’s the middle of the day and they’re settling in to whale watch.
Or…
“Sunrise,” I whisper.
“What?” Marcus’s breath brushes the back of my neck as we tread, his hand skimming up my body.
“They’re waiting for sunrise. They’re not going to leave for at least two more hours.”
“Then we risk becoming fish food. Although those sharks circling us earlier were smiling. Seemed super friendly, so we’ll probably have a great time out here.”
I tear away from him, frantically splashing toward the dock. Grunting and panting, I try to haul myself onto it without scratching my stomach on the weathered wood, giving all of nature and the sunrise couple a front row view of all my body parts.
Marcus belly laughs behind me, and his hand lands on my backside, pushing me up and onto the dock. He slides onto it beside me like he’s some kind of seal and we scramble to our feet, and he grabs my hand, pulling me behind him as we sprint up the dock, right past the couple on the beach and through the trees along the boardwalk, not stopping or looking back until we jump in the hot tub and sink to the bottom together.
CHAPTER 11
Marcus,
I’m not sure there will ever be a place as beautiful as San Juan Island, and it has nothing to do with scenery and everything to do with the firsts we experienced together. Saying I’m the luckiest doesn’t begin to describe what I feel for you, but until I find the right words, it will have to do.
Mei
Mei and I check into a cheap motel so we can save our money to go crazy on our new apartment. As soon as I get my scholarship money, we’re using graduation money for fun stuff. I want to go on a shopping spree for some new clothes for Mei. I wanna TV. A huge one. And maybe a gaming console. If Stanford is gonna be our new home for the next four years, we’re gonna make it ours. Whenever it’s ready, which is hopefully very, very soon.
We drop our bags on the table, throw off the infested bedspread, and kick off our shoes. We sit next to each other on the bed, backs against the cheap, wobbly headboard.
We’re sharing a bag of fries, our legs relieved to be stretched in front of us instead of molded to the motorcycle seat like they have been for the last ten hours.
Mei nibbles on a fry, taking in the dingy room, and I attack my double cheeseburger, famished from a day of driving, my fingers stiff from being wrapped around the handlebars. “I mean,” I say, chewing and swallowing. “It’s definitely not our place on San Juan Island, and definitely no place I ever thought I’d stay but…look.” I wipe grease off my chin with a napkin. “It’s like a time machine. Rotary phone?” I raise my eyebrow at her and nod my head at the phone on the desk. “I remember when Meemaw had one. That thing’s a relic. Also, this place is basically a scientist’s dream.” I motion my burger at the bedspread slumped in the corner. “That thing’s a gold mine of infectious diseases and biological specimens. And we’re paying a mere $109 a night for all of this.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “This is the life, Mei. Pretty sure it doesn’t get better than this. Not even a little bit. We’ve arrived.”
She rolls her eyes and laughs. I go on, loving the way she watches my face. “Plus, this place is so close to Stanford; I could run there and back every day, and if I miss you too much, I can run back during my lunch break for a little, you know…” I lean down and smile against her ear, whispering a few ideas, and she snuggles into my side, her hand slipping under my shirt to rest on my stomach.
I release a long, satisfied sigh. “We’re gonna make some great prostitute and drug-dealer friends and be very happy here until our apartment’s ready.”
She laughs again. “It’s definitely hard to be here after the last three days on a gorgeous island, in an amazing beach house. Andthat kitchen? I loved cooking in it almost as much as I love you, but you win because it never made me laugh or took me skinny dipping in the freezing, freaky ocean. Or stayed up all night doing other stuff.” She smirks and devours another fry.
My stomach flips around, remembering how we only left the beach house three times—once to go skinny dipping, once to ride the island, and once to get groceries when Mei fell in love with the fully equipped kitchen and wanted to spend every second she wasn’t with me in it. She went crazy at the store while I pushed the cart, my eyes glued to her because she was so excited and happy to create masterpieces. Our Seattle kitchen was too small for her to do what she really wanted to do, when she had the huge beach house kitchen, she became a gourmet machine, and I loved everything about it. Especially the topless tapas.
The memory smears a grin all over my face, and I smooth her hair off her forehead, kissing it.
“Promise we’ll go back someday,” she says while we both float in and out of memories.
“If you’d get busy making meth out of the bathroom, we could easily live in luxury. You could have any kitchen you wanted.” I shrug. “All up to you, Mei.”
She snuggles into her spot between my shoulder and neck, her face warm through my shirt. “I’m very motivated. But I’d rather be in a ratty motel with you than in a five-star hotel or gourmet kitchen without you, so I’m happy right here. Without making meth, even. But how about, while you’re at practice tomorrow, I find us a place where we aren’t afraid of being shot during a drug raid?” She traces a heart on my chest with her fingertip while I rub her back.
I lean my mouth against her temple, lips brushing her skin as I talk. “That’s so boring. But okay, whatever. Go crazy and find us a place that’s at least two stars.” I put the bag of fries on the nightstand and scoot down on my side. Mei lies facing me,her fingertip tracing my face. “I mean—this is what we wanted, right? Just you and me?”
She nods, her hand moving down my chest to my stomach, and her fingers slide along the waistband of my jeans. My muscles tense. “We’re so gonna make this work. We’ve got Meemaw’s graduation money. Money from Guo. Our paychecks, very generous bonuses from Jerry. And we always have…thediamonds,” I whisper in a British accent, and her smile breaks through the shadows in this corner of the time-stained room. We haven’t talked much about the diamonds Mei took from Nick since they represent what she experienced at the hotel in L.A. They’re carefully camouflaged and stashed in the tampon box in her bag. It feels like using them might release evil spirits or something.
I kiss the skin around her ear, and she grabs my hoodie strings. “Or, if we run low on cash, I can just call my boyfriend from yesterday. He told me he makes a lot of it…”
I snort. “Yeah, you could—you could call him Sugar Grandpappy.”
A laugh bursts out of Mei, and she falls back on the bed, holding her stomach as she laughs. “I never knew you were an actor,” she says, wiping laughter tears out of her eyes, “but your server impersonation was Oscar worthy.”
On our way back down the coast yesterday, we’d stopped at a random restaurant, and before our orders arrived, I’d gone to the bathroom. When I’d walked out, some old dude was sitting in my seat across from Mei. I’d stopped, backed up, then snatched a check sleeve from the hostess stand before sauntering over to our table, pen behind my ear.
