Stealing Phin

by Avery Hale

  “Keep going,” Carlito encouraged, “you are doing so well.”

  So, I inched onward, but mainly because I didn’t have any other option. God, I must look pretty stupid right now.

  When I finally reached Carlito, he took my hand and helped me down onto the small ledge of rock where he stood. At this point, my thighs and calves were burning from the spread-eagled traverse. My legs felt so weak that I fell into Carlito’s arms and had to lean against him for a few moments to catch my breath.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, embarrassed by my clumsiness.

  “Don’t be sorry, chica,” Carlito looked impressed. “That was very good. You are so…flexible. Like a dancer.”

  I laughed heartily because I’d pictured myself more as a clown, but I appreciated his compliment. “Gracias.”

  Carlito stayed next to me for the rest of the hike. In between the second and the final waterfalls, we came upon the first of our two “wet surprises.” It involved a large puddle of water where the stream had collected in a basin of rock. The water was murky, which made it impossible to tell how deep the puddle was. All the other similar puddles we’d crossed so far came up to waist-level, at the most. So, when Carlito jumped into this one and disappeared completely underwater, I yelped.

  When his head popped up a second or two later, he smiled at me. “Surprise!”

  “A little warning would’ve been nice,” I laughed with relief.

  “True.” He shook his head, whipping the water from his hair. I felt like I was watching a sexy commercial for men’s cologne. “But then it would not be a surprise.” He climbed out of the deep puddle and pointed to the spot right at its center where it was deepest.

  I took aim and jumped in. When I surfaced, Carlito helped me out of the water. I’d worn my bikini under a white tank top, which turned completely see-through once soaked. Carlito openly admired my body, and I let him. His gaze didn’t make me feel violated or intruded upon, which is how I often felt when a guy was checking me out. In this moment, I was feeling more beautiful and sure of myself than I had in a long time, so I let myself relish in it.

  The second “wet surprise” was a little more of a challenge. Once we arrived at the final waterfall, I noticed that there was no wooden platform or rope system rigged up.

  “How are we getting down this one?” I asked Carlito. At almost two hundred feet, it was the tallest waterfall of all.

  He took my hand in his and grinned. As he walked me closer to the edge and I realized what the answer was, my heart started pounding against my sternum. I pulled back, taking my hand away.

  “No, I can’t,” I said. My mouth had gone dry. “I’m scared of heights.”

  “But you went down the other waterfalls with no problem.”

  “Because I was hooked up to ropes handled by four strong guys. Throwing yourself off a waterfall completely unattached is a little different.”

  Carlito came back to me and took both my hands in his. “Different in a good way, amiga. Isn’t that one of the reasons you chose to come to a place like my country? To see and try something different?”

  His words struck a chord with me. He was right. Why bother traveling this far if I was going to insist on staying inside my comfort zone? Douglas had once teased me about not being adventurous enough when I’d refused to try sea urchin at a sushi restaurant. Maybe it was time to push my own limits. See what I was made of.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “We will go together,” he suggested. “Are you ready?”

  “Shouldn’t we stand closer to the edge?”

  He shook his head. “We will run and jump off. It is better this way. If you look down first, your fear will get the best of you.”

  Knowing he was right again, I nodded my head and gripped his hand. He counted to three in Spanish. We took off running.

  Five strides later we were airborne. As we flew through the air, I heard Carlito cry out something that sounded like “pooda veeda!” The biggest rush I’d ever felt filled me from head to toe as we descended. It felt as though we were in the air for a long time before hitting the water. By the time I surfaced, I was filled with pure joy.

  As Carlito and I walked the trail leading back to the base, I was still on a buzz. I asked him what he had yelled when we jumped off the waterfall.

  “Pura vida. It is a famous Cost Rican saying—meaning pure life. It is what all Costa Ricans live by.”

  “I like that,” I said. “I think I could definitely use more of that in my life.”

  He smiled. “You are not the only American I’ve met who says the same thing. Your people need to learn to…let loose your mane.”

  I was confused for a moment before I figured out what he meant. “You mean let our hair down?”

  He laughed. “Boring girls have hair. You, chica, have wild mane.”

  Before I could determine whether this was a compliment or not, Carlito started asking me questions about myself: where I was from, how long I was staying in the country, and what I liked to do for fun.

  When he asked whether I had a boyfriend, my face fell. Why did he have to bring that up? I was having such a nice time not thinking about Douglas.

  “No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said with a stiff lip.

  “Bueno. Not good to come to this country if you have a boyfriend back home.” He jumped down a large rock and turned around to help me.

  “And why’s that?” I took his outstretched hand and hopped down, landing next to him. I started to walk on, but he held onto my hand and pulled me back.

  Our wet bodies pressed lightly together. Our eyes met.

  He half-smiled and said in a low voice, “Because Costa Rica is a place where people fall in love.”

  Chapter 4

  THE LAVA LOUNGE

  “How does my cleavage look?” Dez asked as we walked to the Lava Lounge later that evening. According to Roberto, it was a popular hangout for the locals and tourists alike in La Fortuna.

  After our canyoneering tour, Carlito and Estevan had asked us to meet them there for drinks. Dez enthusiastically RSVP’ed for us both, even though I was hesitant about it. When I talked to Dez about it later, I had told her I felt it was too soon for me to go out on a date. The sooner you get back on the horse again, the better, she’d said resolutely. I could hardly argue, especially since I knew if I stayed behind, I’d just spend the entire night pining over Douglas and crying myself to sleep in our villa.

  I glanced at my friend’s breasts, which were blooming out of her low-cut sequin tank top like over-filled water balloons. She was trying out her new Victoria’s Secret push-up bra. It was one of the new line of bras called Miracle. The only miracle this bra could possibly perform on Dez was if it somehow managed to keep its seams together while supporting her front.

  “You cleavage looks like it could stow away both our wallets without a problem.”

  “Good.” She took it as a compliment. Then, she glanced my way and frowned. “You should’ve worn the mini skirt I brought,” she looked at my pretty, but casual summer dress disapprovingly. “That dress is more of a daytime outfit, not a—“

  “Not a wanna-get-laid outfit?”

  Dez put her hands on her hips. “What’s with you? You’ve been a sulking puss all afternoon. I thought you had fun on the tour. You and Carlito seemed to really hit it off. He definitely has the hots for you, anyway.”

  “I can’t tell you what’s wrong,” I frowned.

  “Any why the hell not? We tell each other everything. You know where I stash my emergency vibrator, for God’s sake.”

  “Rule number one,” I confessed. “I know I’m not supposed to think about Douglas because it just makes me sad, but I can’t help it. The tour was fun and distracting for a while, but as soon as the distraction is over, I just feel depressed all over again.”

  “That’s natural. You just broke up. It’ll take time to get over him.”

  “It’s not just that. I’m not only feeling sad. I’m feeling guil
ty.”

  “Guilty about what?”

  “About going out on a date.” I hesitated before making my full confession. “I think I want Douglas back.”

  Dez stopped in her tracks and have me a serious look. “Did you hit your head against a rock today?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because I think you must be suffering from amnesia,” she inhaled sharply. “Let me refresh your memory of the events that led to the demise of your relationship.

  “Your boyfriend-slash-boss sent you home early to get ready for the nice dinner he was going to take you out on for your anniversary. Then, he called to say he was sorry but something came up at work, again, and he was going to have to postpone.

  “You, being the nice girlfriend that you are, decided to surprise him at the office with Chinese food from his favorite place.

  “You walked into his office to discover that something came up all right. You caught the bastard getting a blowie from his hot nineteen-year-old-floozy secretary.

  “After throwing his egg foo young onto the floor, which I thought was your only mistake—you should’ve thrown it at him—you dumped the two-timing asshole and quit your job. Bravo.

  “Did I miss any details out? Perhaps the one detail that might actually justify his cheating and make you want to take him back? I don’t know—maybe the floozy is like a sperm vampire who needs to suck on it to survive, and he was just trying to save her life? Enlighten me, please.”

  Dez’s face was red with anger by the time she finished. Even her cleavage looked angry.

  What I wanted to say to her was that it was more complicated than that. I loved Douglas. He was my first true love. I planned to marry him. To have a family with him.

  It wasn’t just a boyfriend or a job I’d lost that day. I’d lost my future. I’d lost my sense of self. I wasn’t Douglas’s girl anymore, and being his girl had made me happier than anything else.

  And now, I wasn’t sure what made me happy, or who I was without him.

  But I didn’t say any of that. Thinking it was one thing, saying it out loud would make what was already painful too much to bear. Plus, it’d just sound downright pathetic. Especially after Dez’s run-down of the facts, none of which I could exactly deny.

  “I’m sorry, Dez,” I said instead. Even if she didn’t understand, I knew she was only trying to look out for me. She was like the protective big sister I never had. “I promise to try to get out of my own head. It’s just that my heart won’t stop pumping out the pain.”

  Dez sighed. “Tell you what. How about I buy you rounds of tropical hurricanes until you can’t feel anything. Then, I’ll put Carlito in charge of making you to feel good again.”

  I nodded and smiled, worried that if I said, “Okay, that sounds great!” she’d know I was lying.

  When we entered the Lava Lounge, the place was packed with tourists and locals alike. Modern reggae with a danceable beat pumped its rhythms throughout the room. Red rope lights decorated the ceiling and walls imitating lava flowing from a giant mural of a volcano. The crowd was young and hip. The vibe was cool and fun. My spirits began to lift. I became determined to have a good time.

  Estevan and Carlito spotted us and waved us over to a table they’d claimed. They both looked smart yet casual in polo shirts and khaki shorts.

  Estevan’s eyes just about popped out of his skull when Dez and her girls plopped into the seat next to him. “Se ven deliciosos,” he said to Dez’s breasts.

  “I don’t know what you said, honey, but keep on talking. Your accent turns me on.” She slid her pink tongue lightly over her teeth and put her boner-inducing moves on full-throttle. Leave it to Dez to make it impossible for the poor guy to stand up before we even had our first round of drinks.

  Carlito pulled the chair next to him out for me. “Sit down, my little dancer. I will order us a special drink. The bartender, he is my cousin and owes me money. We will drink for free tonight.” He whistled sharply and yelled an order at the bartender.

  A few minutes later, a waitress delivered a tray of shots.

  “What is it?” I asked as I sniffed the clear liquid.

  “A special Costa Rican drink called Guaro,” Carlito said. “It is sweet—made from sugar cane. You will like it.”

  Estevan raised his shot glass. “To sexy American girls! And to pura vida!” He downed his drink and sucked air in through his teeth as the alcohol went down. The rest of us followed suit.

  “Whoa,” I coughed. “This stuff is strong!”

  “Strong, but good,” Carlito said. He leaned toward me. “Good for making you forget all your serious stuff.”

  I smiled as the warmth of the alcohol immediately began numbing me from the inside. “Sounds like exactly what I need.” I let myself sink into the numbness all too willingly.

  “I’ve got two questions,” Dez said. Her eyes were already shining from the potent shot of Guaro. “What the fuck is pura vida, and can we get another round of shots?”

  ***

  Three rounds of Guaro later, the Lava Lounge began to rock beneath my feet.

  “Pura fuckin vida, amigos!” Dez slurred as she clinked shot glasses with Estevan. She winced as she took the shot down. “This guava stuff is potent. Can I get this duty free?”

  “Guaro, not guava,” Estevan laughed. “It would be dangerous if it grew on trees like fruit. All our howler monkeys would fall off the branches drunk.”

  Dez leaned toward him. “I’ll make you howl like a monkey tonight, muchacho.”

  The two of them began to make out violently. Any minute now and the volcano in Estevan’s pants would explode.

  Carlito took my hand in his. “You have pretty hands, amiga. Delicate.” He pressed his lips to it. Then he held my hand closer to his eyes. “This is a nice ring. It looks valuable. You should be careful wearing such jewelry here. The monkeys are great thieves. And they love shiny things.” He slid his hand up my thigh. I jumped at his touch.

  “I gotta go to the bathroom.” I clutched my hands together and walked unevenly across the room. I fingered the ring on my right hand—the promise ring Douglas had given me on my birthday, six months after we started dating.

  I promise to love you like no other man could, he had said when he gave it to me.

  I’d never taken it off since. I knew I should give it back to him, especially since he’d broken his promise. But I just couldn’t get myself to take it off. It felt like a part of me.

  Unable to make it all the way to the restroom without keeling over, I made a pit stop at the bar and leaned against the counter. “Agua, s’il vous-plait.”

  “It’s por favor,” a voice said.

  I looked to my right and nearly vomited on the spot.

  It was him.

  Of all the bars in this town, why did he have to come to this bar on this night…and when I was this drunk? There was no longer any doubt in my mind that the entire world was conspiring against me.

  “What the heck are you doing here?” I squinted at The Hottie. “And who do you think you are, talking all Spanishy and stuff? Mister Señor whatever-your-name-is.”

  “My name is Byron,” he said. “Byron Michaels.”

  “Well, Byron Michaels, did you come here to trick other girls into thinking you’re gay so you can get them to take off all their clothes for your amusement?”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me, Lord Byron. Don’t play deaf.” The bartender set a glass of water in front of me. Or maybe it was two glasses of water. Hard to tell.

  “What made you think I was gay?”

  “First of all,” I pointed a finger in the air, “you’re a flower hunter. And you happen to be hunting for my favorite flower, did you know that? I bet you didn’t. Because guys never pay any attention to that sort of thing. I must have told Douglas fifty times that I love orchids, and he always got me roses.” I waved my hand under my nose. “Which I hate, by the way. They smell like old piss.”

  I made a grab for the
glass of water, but the damn thing kept moving around, so I ended up knocking it over. The bartender rolled his eyes at me and left to fill another glass.

  “Second of all,” I continued, “you didn’t try to get with Dez. And if you don’t want to get with that,” I pointed in the general direction of where my friend sat, “then, I hate to break it to you, but you must be gay, my friend.”

  “I’m not gay,” said Lord Byron. He smiled despite himself.

  Why did he always have that look on his face? Like he was getting a kick out of some joke that I didn’t get. I wished he wasn’t so damn handsome. It’s always easier to despise someone when your mind and your body are in agreement over it.

  “Well, I know that now,” I rolled my eyes. “There isn’t a gay bone in your body,” I said a little too loudly. “I saw your…your…” My eyes drifted down to his crotch. Big mistake.

  Suddenly, my train of thought left the station, and all I could think of was Lord Byron in his boxer briefs.

  “My what?” Byron said with a crooked grin after I’d been openly staring at his crotch for I-don’t-know-how-long.

  I gathered what few wits I had left, thanks to the Guaro, and narrowed my eyes at him, which only made me see double again. “You know what.”

  His grin widened and he chuckled. “You’re funny.”

  At first I thought he was making fun of me, but even in my Guaro-induced haze, I could see that he was at least half sincere.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” I snorted, not wanting to accept his compliment. I still didn’t trust the guy. He was too good-looking to be trustworthy. “Funny Phinegan Swift.”

  “Well, Phinegan Swift, let me buy you a drink,” he segued smoothly into a pick-up line. How schmoozy of him. “It’s the least I can do to make up for bogarting your massage session. You should’ve stayed, by the way, those girls know what they’re doing.”

  “Oh I bet they do.” I gave him a knowing look. “I bet they were all over you.”

  “Well, yeah. That’s how a massage works.”