One Summer in Santorini

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One Summer in Santorini Page 8

by Sandy Barker


  ‘I do know. I even have it on my résumé.’

  ‘You do not.’ I smiled at him over the rim of my cup, grateful he’d broken the awkwardness between us. I took another sip. I missed drinking out of a proper glass, but otherwise, it was a good drink.

  ‘No, you’re right. But I did tend bar in college so I could put it on there if I wanted to.’

  ‘Ever thought about coming out of retirement?’

  ‘No, this software thing seems to be taking off, so I think I’ll stick with that for now.’ He winked at me, which was kind of flirty, but not enough to scare me away. There were a lot of stars out, and I stared up at the sky, sipping my drink. It started to warm me through.

  ‘Hey, Sarah?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I hope you don’t mind, but you know, it’s a small boat, and I couldn’t help hearing when you were talking to Hannah about your ex earlier.’

  ‘Oh. I thought you were reading.’

  ‘I was. It’s just … I got pulled out of the story once in a while by some of the things you said.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘He’s an asshole, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  ‘Not all guys are like that.’

  ‘I know that too,’ I replied far too defensively.

  ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

  I sighed. ‘It’s okay. It’s just … I have the worst taste in men.’

  He didn’t respond and when I looked at him, he had an odd expression on his face. Did he think I meant him? Oh crap. I mean, it wasn’t as if we had anything going – not really – but maybe he thought I was lumping him in with all the others. Double crap.

  I gracelessly changed the subject to him. It was either that, or go into some ridiculously long explanation of what I’d meant, which would mean admitting I was attracted to him.

  ‘What about you?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

  ‘Me?’ He looked surprised.

  ‘Yes. You leave anyone special at home?’ He shook his head and took a sip. ‘How about any exes you want to whinge about?’

  ‘No. There’s no one.’

  ‘No exes?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Ever?’ I was intrigued. Meeting a man of twenty-eight with no exes was like sighting a unicorn.

  ‘Well, sure, yes. A long time ago, but I don’t want to whinge about it, as you say.’

  ‘Okay.’ Not a unicorn then.

  ‘I’m celibate.’ I really didn’t see that coming – a unicorn after all.

  ‘Celibate?’

  ‘Yes. I haven’t been with anyone for several years.’

  ‘By choice?’ I tried to wrap my mind around a cute, smart, funny guy who could probably get any girl he wanted, but chose to forgo sex.

  ‘Yep.’ And then, as if convincing himself more so than me, he added, ‘Definitely by choice. And it’s good. I don’t actually want anyone in my life – to be part of a couple, or in a relationship, or anything.’

  So, what’s with all the flirting then, huh? ‘Were you hurt? Badly? Is that why?’ I could address the flirting thing later.

  ‘Yes and no. I mean, I had a girlfriend – in college. It ended.’

  ‘How long were you together?’

  ‘Two years – just over two years.’ This is like pulling teeth.

  ‘That’s quite a while. How did it end?’

  ‘She met someone else – she didn’t cheat or anything. She ended it because she realised that if she had feelings for someone else, then she probably wasn’t in love with me anymore.’

  ‘Oh.’ I couldn’t help but feel for him. It had clearly affected him. I wondered if people felt the same way towards me when I told them about Neil. I needed to stop talking about Neil – I didn’t want anyone’s pity.

  Josh was frowning. I promised myself to drop the subject – as soon as I asked one more thing. ‘So, you’ve not dated, or had sex, or anything since then?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Wow!’ I couldn’t help it – it just came out. Fortunately, Josh seemed undeterred by my amazement.

  ‘I realised after we broke up that loving her was like an addiction – I had become addicted to feeling like that, being part of a couple, I mean. And it wasn’t so much that I missed her – I mean, I did – but it was more that I missed the feeling of being part of something, the relationship itself. And it sucked. I felt like shit. And I couldn’t understand why anyone would risk feeling like that. I never wanted to feel like that again. So, I’ve stayed away. I’m free and clear of it.’

  I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I stayed silent.

  He continued, ‘And …’ he laughed wryly ‘… so many people tell me I just haven’t met the right woman yet – as if that’s going to change my whole way of thinking.’ I couldn’t help but think that maybe they were right, but I didn’t say it. I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. And I certainly didn’t want him thinking that I thought I was the right woman.

  I mean, I was just someone he met on holiday. We would probably never even see each other again after the trip, so I was hardly the one to convert him back to love.

  We didn’t speak for a while. My heart ached a little for him. He seemed so raw, even though this had happened years before. It was as though he carried this around with him right below the surface, which I’d somehow scratched, and there it was in all its fresh, gory glory.

  And then my mind went where it absolutely shouldn’t have.

  I’d sworn off men – and wished that one, in particular, would die a heinous death – and I was spending time with a guy who I could talk to easily, who was becoming a good friend, and who I increasingly found attractive. And he was clearly attracted to me too. And even though he said all that stuff about love and sex and not getting close to anyone, wasn’t that what we were doing? Getting close? And what if we lived in the same city? Would we abandon these self-protecting philosophies? Would we be together?

  ‘I should go to bed,’ I said suddenly. Seeing as I’d asked myself some fairly profound questions, I thought it was the best thing to do. I got up, nearly falling on top of him in the process. He helped me right myself with a steady hand.

  ‘Sarah …’ He looked as if he wanted to say something. I couldn’t read his expression, but I felt like shit. I’d made him dredge up all the stuff he’d locked away so intently, and now I was battling with my own edicts about love and sex.

  He didn’t finish his thought, so I said goodnight and went below deck. Shortly after, I heard him come below and close the door to his cabin. I quickly got ready for bed and was about to climb into my bunk when I heard his door open. I stood still, listening. There was a faint knock on my door.

  I opened it a few centimetres, and we locked eyes. ‘I’m sorry …’ we both said at the same time. We laughed – nervous laughter.

  ‘You go first,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sorry I dragged all of that up. I didn’t mean to pry or to make you feel bad.’

  ‘I know. It’s fine, really. The weird thing is, I’ve never been able to express it like that before. It’s the first time I’ve said a lot of that stuff, but it’s all good. I promise I’m not upset.’

  I sighed, relieved. ‘So, what are you sorry about?’

  He paused, as though he was considering his words carefully. ‘After you came down here, I realised I must be confusing the hell out of you. I went on this whole big rant about never being with anyone ever again, and yet it must be really obvious that I like you. I mean, like like you.’

  I nodded. So, I didn’t imagine it.

  ‘I can pontificate for hours about the merits of celibacy and give you all the reasons in the world why I’ll never have a girlfriend again, but at the same time, I feel like I can tell you anything. And I feel like we’re becoming friends – close friends. Not to mention you’re sexy as hell. And …’ he took a deep breath ‘… I think if we lived in the same city, I’d ask you out.’ My resolve was weakening wi
th every word, and the twinges came back with full force.

  ‘I didn’t want you to think I’m not attracted to you, because I am. And ever since I first saw you standing on the pier, I’ve wanted to do this.’ Then he leaned down and touched his lips to mine in the most gentle, sweet kiss – ever.

  When he pulled away, all I could say was a breathless, ‘Oh. Okay.’

  Resolve. Completely. Gone.

  He smiled. ‘Goodnight, Sarah.’

  ‘Goodnight, Josh.’ His eyes stayed on mine as I closed the door. I sat down on my bunk as shivers worked their way up and down my spine. The only thing I knew for sure – right then – was that the guy could kiss.

  Oh, and that I was in serious trouble.

  *

  I woke to the rumbling of the boat’s engine. ‘Hannah,’ I whispered, but there was no answer. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I saw she wasn’t in her bunk. I checked my watch – 2:00am. We were moving, which wasn’t in Duncan’s original plan for the trip, so I threw on some shorts and opened the cabin door.

  The lights in the main cabin were on, and I could hear voices up on deck, so I climbed the ladder to join the others. There was a flurry of activity, as Josh and Gary coiled the tow lines and Duncan steered the boat away from the dock. Gerry, Marie and Hannah were huddled together on one of the bench seats, sharing a blanket. I wondered how Hannah had got out of her bunk without waking me; I must have been in a deep sleep.

  ‘Hey, guys, what’s going on?’ I asked no one in particular.

  Gary, who was closest to me, responded. ‘We’ve kicked Patricia off the boat.’

  ‘Thank god!’ said Hannah from behind him.

  ‘Why? What happened?’

  Duncan answered me. ‘She came back to the boat about an hour ago with a group of people, and they were really loud, and when I came up and asked her to send them away, she refused.’

  ‘Didn’t you hear any of that, Sarah?’ Hannah scolded. She was annoyed with me for some reason.

  ‘No, sorry. I guess I slept through it all.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Gary continued, ‘there was a bit of a kerfuffle, and I came out, then Josh did, and we sent them on their way. Then Patricia said she was leaving the trip.’

  Duncan finished the story. ‘So, we let her pack, and she left. And now I’m moving the boat to the middle of the marina, so she can’t change her drunken mind.’ It was the first time Duncan acknowledged that Patricia was a drunkard.

  A lot had happened since I’d said goodnight to Josh. ‘Okay. So that’s it? She doesn’t get to come back?’

  ‘Nope. She’s gone for good,’ said Duncan.

  ‘I didn’t care for her,’ added Gerry. ‘She was rude.’ That was putting it mildly.

  ‘I’m glad she’s gone,’ said Hannah. ‘Did you know she called me princess? To my face? And she didn’t mean it as a compliment.’

  I commiserated with Hannah. ‘Yeah, I wasn’t too fond of her either. I overheard her saying nasty stuff about us when she thought she was alone on the boat with Josh.’

  ‘Bitch!’

  ‘I thought she was okay,’ said Josh. All eyes turned to him.

  ‘Well, you shared a room with her, Josh, and spent the most time with her, so you probably have a better understanding of what she was really like …’ Marie was so diplomatic, even after everything that had happened. Meanwhile, I’d started singing ‘Ding-Dong! The Witch is Dead’ in my head.

  Josh spoke up. ‘Well, I guess. I mean, she was an interesting person. For some reason, she didn’t seem to have a problem with me, but she was really bitter and angry about – well, pretty much everything else.’ Josh was also more gracious than I would have been.

  ‘You’ll have a room to yourself now,’ said Hannah. And then she looked right at me. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did she want me out of our cabin?

  ‘I guess so, yeah. No more snoring, so that’s good,’ said Josh, tactfully.

  Duncan shut off the boat engine. ‘This is good enough. We’ll drop anchor here, and in the morning, we’ll head back in to get our scooters. Even if she comes back tomorrow, I’ll have the boat all locked up, and she won’t be able to go below.’

  ‘I doubt she’ll come back,’ said Gary. ‘She was pretty clear about her disdain for us. And if she does, we can do the whole thing all over again.’

  Marie stood up and hugged her husband. ‘You’re a good bouncer, honey.’ They really were cute together.

  ‘I’m going back to bed!’ declared Hannah. We all said our goodnights and made our way below deck. When I climbed into my bunk, Hannah rolled over to face me. ‘I would have thought you’d be sleeping next door tonight.’ Snarky.

  ‘No. Why?’

  ‘Well, you said that if Josh was your boyfriend, you’d definitely want to sleep with him, and …’ She didn’t finish the thought to its obvious conclusion.

  ‘Josh is not my boyfriend,’ I whispered, pointedly.

  ‘Mm-hmm,’ she replied, smugly, and rolled over. Now she was all pissed off with me, and for nothing, I might add. I let it go; it was the middle of the night, and I figured I would talk it out with her the next day. We’d just got rid of one person who didn’t like me – I didn’t want Hannah to hate me too.

  Chapter Six

  As I roused myself from sleep, my mind leapt to the incredible kiss Josh had sprung on me the night before. My stomach did a little flip-flop. Then I remembered it couldn’t – well, shouldn’t – happen. My mind started screaming at me: he’s practically a teenager! He lives on the other side of a giant ocean! He’s a commitment-phobe!! My flip-flopping stomach just flopped.

  Men who tell you they don’t want to be in a relationship generally mean they don’t want to be in a relationship. Full stop. I liked Josh, but there was no denying that getting tangled up with him was a bad idea. BAD.

  But less than two hours later, as we rode around Naxos on our scooters, my resolve had dissolved. Having tasked myself with keeping things platonic, I was doing a superbly crappy job. For one thing, my hands were in his pockets, and I may have been leaning into him more than was necessary to stay on the back of his scooter.

  The pocket thing was legitimate, or so I kept telling myself, because my hands got cold while we were riding. But I had no good reason for the rest of it – the leaning, touching his stomach through the fabric of his jacket, squeezing my thighs around him. All of it was inexcusable considering how much it was going to suck when this whole thing blew up in my face. I was ridiculous.

  But my body seemed to have a mind of its own. The thing was, Josh wasn’t the only one who’d been celibate for an epoch. My drought wasn’t quite as long as his, but once I got a whiff of how good the back of his neck smelled, my mind turned to mush and the rest of me turned into a raging ball of oestrogen. And, Josh was flirting back – running his hand along my thigh, squeezing my hands through his jacket, flexing his abs whenever I touched his stomach.

  So, it wasn’t all my fault.

  As we explored the island, we formed a convoy of four scooters, with Duncan and Gerry in the lead and the rest of us following like baby ducks – Josh and me, Gary and Marie, and then Hannah. From time to time, we pulled off the road so Duncan could show us something cool – or so he said. The stops varied in levels of coolness and Duncan’s commentary was, well, interesting.

  At the first stop, he regaled us with his version of the local history. ‘There was this big head honcho guy, and he totally loved being all-powerful and stuff, and he was totally up himself, so he decided that the people should build a monument to him. And then the people decided they didn’t like being ruled by him, so they revolted and told him to finish building it himself, which he didn’t, ’cause he didn’t know how to do any of that stuff, so the project was abandoned. This arch is all they built before they revolted.’

  Duncan motioned to a giant rectangular arch and nodded his head as he regarded it solemnly. Perhaps he was imagining all the Greek slaves telling the big head hon
cho guy to take his job and shove it. The arch was remarkably intact, but I had seen a lot of ruins when I was touring, and I guess they ruined me – pun intended – from getting excited about an ancient erection. I was more interested in Duncan’s take on history, which got even more entertaining as the day progressed.

  ‘The people of Naxos built these pigeon houses to house their pigeons.’ Halfway up a giant hill, we had stopped by the side of the road and were looking at a sloping field filled with large clay structures – pigeon houses, apparently.

  ‘But why did the people of Naxos build houses for their pigeons?’ asked Hannah. It was a reasonable question. Were they carrier pigeons? Were they domesticated? Were they food?

  ‘Because they thought they were nice,’ replied Duncan. Okay, thanks, Duncan – that clears everything up. The rest of us looked at each other while Duncan, oblivious to the fact that we were all baffled, put his helmet on and climbed onto his scooter. As Gerry climbed on the back, he called out over the sound of the engine, ‘Next stop is for morning tea!’ I liked the sound of that. Maybe we could get Duncan to tell us more about the pigeons.

  We rode further into the undulating hills of Naxos and right as we crested another, we pulled off into a dusty makeshift car park next to a cliff-side bar. The view was incredible, and our small group made a lot of noise with all our oohing and aahing. We could see down through the peaks and valleys of red earth to the jagged bays of aquamarine water. It seemed like we were the only souls for miles. Perhaps we were.

  We were greeted effusively by an attractive Greek man of about forty-something, so not the only ones there, but the only patrons. He signalled that we should take seats at a table outside where we could continue to take in the view. We gathered around a long table as he took our orders for soft drinks and iced coffee, or ‘Nes’ as the locals call it. I knew Nes was just Nescafé coffee granules, sugar, water and a bit of condensed milk frothed up and served to tourists for four euros a pop. It was a total rip-off, so I ordered a Coke No Sugar instead. Before the drinks arrived, Josh excused himself to take photos, and I caught myself watching him go.

 

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