by Shey Stahl
I nod. “I will. Call me sometime too. Maybe you could come to Phoenix.”
Jake scrunches his nose. “I don’t know about that. It’s pretty hot there.”
“It’s not that hot.” I bust up laughing. “It’s hotter here.”
“You guys have snakes too.”
“So you’ll swim with sharks and pigs but won’t risk a snake bite? That’s pretty messed up, Jake.”
We both laugh then, knowing we’re stalling. My heart hurts down deep. I thought I knew heartache. I didn’t. Not like this. Not until I had to give something so great up just because I won’t take the plunge and stay.
Stretching up on my tippy toes, I kiss his cheek. “I hope you get that bar you’ve always wanted.”
Deep down, I know he will. Jake’s determination can get him a lot. Believe me, he got me that first night. But, then again, I was drunk.
“Someday I will.” He wraps his arms around me, refusing to let me go. “And you need to go say goodbye to your mother, properly.”
I have a few more things I want to say to him, and we have enough privacy away from the bar. When I glance back at the Sand Bar, I notice his dad raise his hand and wave to me, giving me the same grin Jake has. Nash does the same, along with Zain, who’s once again sitting at the end of the bar.
“I will.” Dread washes over me. “I wish I could stay….”
He raises an eyebrow, hopeful. “Why don’t you?”
I shrug. “I need to find a job and Revel needs me.” I’m just about to say if I had a job here, I probably would stay, but Jake speaks before I can.
“What about me?” he asks. “Am I enough to make you stay?”
My hands shake as I bring them to his face, cupping his cheeks. His expression shifts again, but I can’t tell you for the life of me what he’s thinking. Part of me think it’s for the best that I don’t know. I can barely get the words out between my tears. “I lo—”
“No.” One finger presses against my lips softly. “Don’t say that to me unless you mean it.”
I do mean it. He needs to know this. “This is so completely unlike me, and I would have never thought it was possible, but I love you,” I whisper in his ear, barely audible. “I love you for what you’ve shown me. I’m a better person for having met you.”
I know then, loving Jake and leaving him isn’t anything like breaking a glass on your kitchen floor and feeling shards cut your feet for weeks. It’s like lighting a firecracker in your hand and closing your fist.
When I draw back, he smiles. “I told you I would be anything you needed.” His thumb brushes across my bottom lip, and his eyes meet mine, worried. He reaches out and cups my cheek, making it so I can’t look away from him.
It’s then I finally understand his statement. He’s exactly what I needed. But what am I to him?
“You said you didn’t want me to mean anything. So what was I to you?”
“You know I meant what I said to you, right?” His pleading bloodshot eyes focus on mine. I can tell then he isn’t going to, but a good part of Jake wants to beg me to stay. “You were exactly what I needed. A cloud in a blue sky to take my mind off what the sun was blinding.”
Goddamn him and his cryptic meaningful words.
“I thought I could let you go, but now, now I don’t want to.” And then he says, “I love you.” Drawing each word out slowly. “I’m not above begging you to stay. You know that, right?”
He actually said it. And though I’ve heard those words before, they feel and sound completely different than they ever did before. They feel true and natural. I exhale a shaky breath when he leans down and kisses me.
Jake’s the type of guy who pours emotion into kissing. It’s not just his lips that make the kiss. It’s his eyes and the way they flutter closed. It’s the hands and the way they hold you. It’s the body and the way it consumes you.
“You make me lose my mind,” he whispers against my lips.
“You help me keep mine.” It’s the truth. I complicated him, and he balanced me.
Drawing back, his head tilts sideways and then drops forward, hanging between his shoulders. His hand rises, rubbing over the back of his neck. I watch his chest, his breathing heavy before he looks at me.
“I have to go,” I tell him.
He blinks at my words, his eyes trained on mine, and then he leans toward me and kisses my cheek. He pulls me from his chest, his hands on my shoulders. His face is suddenly expressionless, as if he’s turning off all emotion.
Removing my hand from around his neck, he kisses the knuckles of one hand and touches my face with the other. Then he twirls a piece of my golden-brown hair in his fingers, watching it dance in the light wind.
He lets my hand fall away, breaking our contact. “’Bye, City Girl.”
My stomach twists at his words. This is real. I’m letting go of something I know I shouldn’t.
“Bye, Island Boy.” As soon as I say those words, a sharp sting of pain radiates throughout my body, my heart, and my soul. I also think that both of us know, deep down in our hearts, this isn’t goodbye for us. For something like we’ve experienced, there’s no way this could be goodbye.
I had this version in my head of what I need. But then I met Jake. And that picture, it’s not even close to what I really needed. This girl here on the island, who I am right now, this had been me all along. Helmet diving and pet groupers, private islands and cocktails. I’m taking a piece of Jake with me. And I’m leaving an even bigger piece here, my version of heavenly love.
Part of me thinks I should have known when I first saw Jake he’d bring me heartache, and I saw those clever tricks he used, sky blue eyes and the way he leaned against the bar. The only thing is, they weren’t tricks at all. That was Jake, never anything but himself.
When I walk away, I miss him immediately. I can barely walk up the beach and to the road where Rylee and Wesley are waiting. They don’t say anything when the tears start. No one does. I push my sunglasses down and hide.
I want just one more touch, one more whispered “City Girl,” one more drink, and one more kiss. I want to hear his voice and feel his touch forever.
It sucks when you feel too much. It’s complete bullshit. I want a heart that doesn’t feel love. Before I went to this island, I wasn’t this girl who fell for guys like Jake. I made fun of the girls who did shit like this. Now look at me.
The thing is, I had my heart set on Jake. I had my heart set on that too-cool, dirty-talking ass. I did. I’m not fooling anyone. Even my heart.
Jake played a part in that vacation. I’ll never know if what he felt was real, if what I felt was real. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that part of him is tattooed on my heart, a forever reminder of what I’d experienced.
Two cups ice
1 oz. pineapple juice
1 oz. orange juice
1 oz. blackberry liqueur
1 oz. banana liqueur
1 oz. light rum
1 oz. dark rum or aged rum
Splash grenadine
Optional: 1 ounce of Bacardi 151 to float on top
Orange slice (optional)
Fill glass with ice. Add the liquid contents. Pour the 151 in the straw or on the top.
Given my mood, I find myself taking everything out on Wesley, who tries to change his flight so he doesn’t have to fly back with us on the same plane. They won’t let him, and I’m actually pleased by that. He needs to see firsthand what he’s done, and that means sitting next to his crying ex-fiancée.
All is quiet for the most part prior to take-off, Wesley, headphones in, next to the window, Rylee beside him, and then me in the aisle seat.
“Are you okay?” Rylee asks, holding my hand.
“I’m miserable, Rylee,” I admit, filling my palms with my sadness. Never before had I let someone have this kind of hold on me. Even with Justin, and I was with him for two years.
“So why let him go?”
It’s a good question. Why did I let hi
m go? Did I do it for me or for him? I can’t answer her. In reality, I might have been doing it for both of us. It’s not like I could have stayed right now, but going back again, staying in touch—I can do those things.
Rylee turns to me, her face planted in her latest issue of US Weekly. “Did you hear about Revel?” She points to the article about him and his on again off again sidepiece, Taylan Ash.
I rip the magazine from her. “You know way more about celebrities than you should. And it’s not even true.” My phone vibrates in my lap and I smile, knowing it’s Jake.
Safe trip, City Girl. Call me when you land.
“Well, these stories are usually mostly true,” Rylee notes, peeking at my phone.
I angle it away from her. “Not really. And usually and mostly aren’t something you’d use to describe the truth in a situation.” I don’t have the energy to argue with her. Not now. We’d had this argument too many times. Rylee feeds off entertainment and uses me for dirty information. However, I sign nondisclosure agreements and can’t tell her shit.
“Kendall, they didn’t split up. They consciously uncoupled.”
“Uncoupled my ass. They fucked other people is what happened.”
Wesley snorts beside her at the “uncoupled” part of the conversation.
You can almost see the sadness creep over Rylee, and I lose it. Nobody messes with my girl. He’s lucky I didn’t plant drugs on him before we left for the airport.
Reaching across Rylee, I hit him in the chest as hard as I can from two seats over. “Do not say anything to her the rest of the trip. Nothing. If you do, I’ll rip your balls off and shove them up your ass. Right on up there where they belong!”
He says nothing. Not a goddamn word.
Maybe it’s from the exhaustion, but once we land in Miami and we’re on the flight back to Phoenix, I fall asleep.
I don’t sleep long. I can’t. I can’t get Jake off my mind no matter how hard I try. I close my eyes and see sunsets and white sand, coconut drinks and sky blue eyes, clear water and sticky skin. It fucking sucks. I don’t want to think about him, but I can’t stop, either. It consumes me. It’s haunting.
Turning my head to the side, I watch Rylee sleeping, her lips pushed into a pout as Wesley’s head rests on her shoulder. Part of me wants to wake her up so she can punch him again. Maybe give him a fat lip or, even better, a black eye… a scarlet letter mark showcasing his infidelity to the world. But I let my friend sleep.
An hour before we land in Phoenix, I start crying again. There are lucky people in this world. I’m not one of them. Rylee, she’s not lucky either.
We’re miserable.
I’m in hell the moment I return to Phoenix, and I’ve never felt that way before. I’ve always loved this city and the sun. Only, the sun feels different here. Everything looks barren and desert-like, while my heart is still back in that colorful island, sipping drinks and getting serenaded by Jake singing Boyz II Men.
There’s a photograph on my phone. It’s one that catches my eye every day because I’ve set it as my wallpaper. A painful reminder. It’s the one selfie of my first night there with Jake. Me with pink cheeks and my drunk smile. Jake with that dirty smile and eyes that gave him away. It’s us. Crazy grins. I can see it now, the fire in my soul when I was around him.
Jake changed me. You think you know how your life will end up. You have a plan. We all do. And then it changes and you’re left with a decision. You can choose to accept it. Or ignore the change all together, as if it didn’t happen at all. No one like me enjoys change. It’s terrifying, not knowing what could go wrong. Imagine a caterpillar when it changes into a butterfly. Do you think it enjoys the experience?
I don’t know the answer to that, but I can tell you, if I suddenly started to grow wings, I’d freak the fuck out. Naturally, wings have benefits, but when you go from a caterpillar to a butterfly and suddenly have wings, you don’t know how cool wings are because you’ve never had them. All your life you’ve been on the ground. Suddenly you can fly and see the world from a completely different angle. All it takes in life is one person to do or say something to you, and your life in some way is changed forever.
Your mother tells you to never let anyone walk all over you. You don’t.
A man runs a stoplight and takes the life of another. Their family is changed forever. His life too.
My life was changed the day my mom died. Just the thought of her still brings tears to my eyes.
Two days after I get back to Phoenix, on Mother’s Day, I finally say goodbye to my mother. Having never gone to her funeral, it hadn’t hit me that she was gone.
That comes later, after the shock of the change wears off. It happens when you’re alone.
The last words she said to me were: “Yeah, okay, Kendall. Whatever.”
That was after I told her to stay out of my life, that I was managing just fine. My mom never had it easy, and in a lot of ways we were very similar. For people like us, similarity is never good. We clashed all the time. Same with my dad. I think—no, I know—that’s why he left.
Hardheaded people have visions of the way life should be. It takes a lot of pride to admit when you’re wrong. But when you do, it can make that change even easier. We all have faults. All of us. Some worse than others, but we all have them.
I’d never discussed my mom’s accident with anyone but Jake. Not even Rylee. I guess maybe I thought I would never see him again and it was okay for him to see that side of me. He wasn’t judging me. He was just there to show me a good time.
The day of her accident, I had been running late to pick Revel up at the airport. That’s when traffic on I-10 came to a complete stop. For three hours they closed down the freeway, and I never did make it to the airport.
When they finally allowed one lane through, I saw her car covered in a tarp, the front end under a semi-truck. I couldn’t even bring myself to go to the funeral. I felt like I didn’t deserve to go. She only ever wanted what was best for me, and I treated her like she wasn’t good enough. I treated a lot of people like they weren’t good enough—including Jake.
My mom was far from perfect, and so am I, but she loved me more than anything else in the world and would have done anything for me. Instead, I pushed her away.
My fingers trace her headstone and her name. Ellis Landon. “Bye, Mom. I love you.” I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to do this, but I’m glad I finally did. And I have Jake to thank for that.
Wiping my tears away with the back of my hand, I kiss the stone. “Everyday something reminds me of you. And it makes me regret that year. You did your best with me, and I’m sorry.”
I feel a huge weight lift as I leave the cemetery that afternoon. I should have done it years ago.
As I’m walking to my car, my phone rings. I slide my finger over the screen. “Hello?”
“Is this Kendall Landon?”
Pulling the phone down, I glance at the number, but I don’t recognize it. “Yes. Who is this?”
A long-distance hum cracks as I wait. “It’s Stevie. Stevie Benton.”
“Oh my God, yeah,” I gasp in shock. “How are you?”
Stevie jumps right into saying how she wants me to come work for her and that it would be the chance of a lifetime—all the things I already know about the job she’s offering me. I’ll definitely consider it, but at this time, I’m not ready to make a decision.
When I hang up the phone, I stare at it and then back at my mom’s grave. It’s like a sign from her. I swear it is. Chances like this don’t just come along all the time. This is one of those opportunities where you know if you let it pass you by, you will look back on it later and know, fucking know in your gut, it will never come along again.
I once worked with an actor who came up for a role in a film that didn’t appear too interesting. Well, to me, anyway. I told him to turn the role down, but then again, my job as his personal assistant had nothing to do with advising him on which roles he should choose.
My job was to walk his dog. For some reason, I thought I had authority. Thankfully, my clients usually found humor in that.
Anyway, the actor ended up taking the role because he had this gut feeling, this deep-down wrenching feeling that this role was the role he was meant to play. His muse, he called it.
That role, that movie, ended up topping the box office the first night it was out.
You don’t walk away from gut-wrenching. You just don’t.
I did with Jake.
Chances like this only happen once. No one, especially me, wants to admit they are wrong. You’re admitting failure. That’s hard for anyone. Deep down, I know one thing, I want to go back to those shades of blue, sun and sand surrounded by water. I want my whiskey sour and swaying palm trees.
When my mother died, I knew I probably wouldn’t stay in Phoenix forever. Part of me wanted to leave when she died, not wanting the reminder any longer. But I stayed for Rylee.
Leaving Rylee will be the hardest, and I can’t do that right away. I tell Stevie I want the job, but I need some time to tie up everything here in Phoenix first. She tells me the job’s mine.
Moving to the Bahamas has its perks, though. Jake. And a chance at something different from what I was doing. It’s laid back there, and sure, I won’t make as much money, but when you think about it—and I do a lot—what’s more important, love or money?
Three months ago, I would have said money. I was that girl because of the way I was raised. Now, I’d shout love from the beachside cabanas while sipping island concoctions that only my island boy can make.
In the weeks since I left the islands, Jake and I still text a lot because calling long distance is outrageous from the Bahamas, and it feels good that we’ve left things on a good note. I have a friend. I have more than a friend, and I know it.
When I think about him in any way, I remember everything about that trip. Everything. The void. The absence of Island Boy. His smile, those thick dark lashes that seem like curtains to the beautiful depths his eyes hold.
I wonder if any of those girls he talked about being with had ever felt like this when they left. Did they know what they were missing? Had he treated them the way he treated me? Did they feel any of this?