Stealing Phin

by Avery Hale

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Dez,” I grew tearful. “You know me—I’m normally a rational, intelligent person. Why is it that when it comes to matters of the heart, I literally lose my mind? One minute I’m feeling normal and under control. And the next thing I know, I’m doing things that I’d never in a million years think I’d ever do.”

  “Because you’re an incorrigible, hopeless romantic of the third degree, Phinegan Swift. It’s one of the things I love about you, but at the same time, I’m sure as hell glad I don’t share the same affliction.”

  “It does feel like the third degree. Third degree burn right here.” I pointed at my chest with my knife. “And it’s a self-inflicted affliction, if anything. I must be a glutton for punishment.”

  “You see?” Dez said as she promptly took the knife out of my hand and replaced with a much less pointy spoon, “This is why I don’t let emotions get involved. You need to do what I do and keep it simple. You meet a guy, you fuck, you part ways. Everybody gets an orgasm. Nobody gets hurt. It’s a fair, mutually beneficial exchange. As soon as feelings come into play—BAM.” She slammed her palm against the table. “All of a sudden people are crying, the world is ending, and worst of all, nobody’s having any fun.”

  I sat in silence and picked at my food. Ever since I’d arrived in Costa Rica, things had gone from bad to worse. Now, not only was I dealing with my feelings for Douglas, but Byron just had to saunter in and complicate matters even more.

  Why hadn’t Douglas returned my calls? Was he angry at me for breaking up with him and quitting? Was he playing hard to get? Or, worse, was he done with me…and us? His silence made me anxious. And what about all the craziness with Byron? I’d felt things with him that I’d never felt with anyone else before. But was it love? Was it lust that was just elevated by the highly romantic, exotic landscape? My love for Douglas was the only kind of love I’d ever known, but this feeling for Byron was so different, it just couldn’t be love. Could it? I posed the question to Dez.

  She took a deep draught of her second margarita before answering. “Byron is a rebound.”

  “You think?” I asked, partially relieved that she didn’t define it as love either. The last thing I needed was a complication of that magnitude. At the same time, it sure didn’t feel like any rebound I’d experienced before. Byron was an effective distraction from Douglas, and to be that, he had to have been a powerful distraction. But maybe Dez was right. That’s all he was—a distraction. Yet, even as the voice in my head told me this, it sounded as thin as the lock of hair Byron had tucked behind my ear this morning. No matter how I defined it, Byron Michaels had proven to be more than just an effective distraction from Douglas. He’d become a whole separate issue until himself.

  “Yep,” Dez said definitively. “He was a much-needed distraction for you when you desperately needed one. And despite the fact that he ended up being an unworthy sack of shit for the way he treated you, I’m actually glad for every second he took your mind off the King of All Pricks. I still can’t believe you managed to call him twice behind my back, you sneaky bitch.”

  “I don’t care what you say, Dez. I still have feelings for Douglas. Despite what he did, I can’t just go from loving to hating him at the flip of a switch. That’s just not how I’m built.”

  “I don’t expect you to. So that’s why I took your cell and phone card.”

  “You did what? Give them back!” I reached for her purse, where I suspected she’d stashed the items.

  “Hell no.” She yanked her purse out of my grasp. “I’m keeping them until the end of this trip. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t buy any more calling cards.”

  “But Dez—”

  “Promise me, or I’ll do you-know-what.” She put her hands to the neckline of her low-cut tank top, indicating she’d unleash Laverne and Shirley if I didn’t comply.

  “For Christ’s sake, Dez. There are kids in this restaurant. You’d scar them for life!”

  Dez leaned back in her chair, satisfied. “It’s for your own good. You’ll thank me at the end of this trip once you’ve got both Douglas and Byron out of your system.”

  “Fat chance.”

  “You just need to focus on one thing for the remainder of this trip—fun. Speaking of which, Estevan got us free passes to go zip-lining this afternoon. He and Carlito are both going to be there.”

  I groaned. “I can’t see Carlito again. Not after I—”

  “Yes, you can. And you should. According to Estevan, he’s forgotten all about the whole vomiting-on-his-face incident. Apparently, you’re all he talks about at work. Come on.” She grabbed my forearm and gave it a little shake, probably hoping to shake a little life back into my limp soul. “These guys are a good time. Even if you don’t sleep with him, and don’t worry, I’m not going to pressure you into doing anything of the sort since you’ve had sex on this trip once, and it didn’t exactly turn out the way I’d hoped for you. Just have some fun. Channel the confident, happy, funny Phin I used to know—before the King of Pricks destroyed that part of you with one foul swoop of his forsaken penis.”

  “It’s one fell swoop. Not foul.”

  “Oh. Well, it was a foul move in my book.”

  After a few brooding moments of silence, I made a decision. “Okay, Dez.” I sat up straighter in my chair. “You don’t have to do any more convincing. I’ll do it all—zip-lining, hanging out with the guys, focusing on fun. I’ll do it because, if anything, my heart and my head have taken a hell of a beating, and I need a break to recover.”

  Dez smiled. “Not exactly the rah-rah spirit I was hoping for, but I’ll take it!”

  “Let’s call Estevan,” I said trying harder this time. “Tell him to let Carlito know that I’m ready to let loose my mane.”

  Chapter 9

  ON THE ROAD TO PAPAGAYO

  By Wednesday morning, I was in the best spirits since arriving in Costa Rica. Zip-lining with Estevan and Carlito yesterday was a blast. As I whizzed through the rainforest canopy, I felt weightless and free from all the troubles that’d been casting a shadow over me lately. For the first time in days, I felt the simple kind of happiness I used to feel all the time. I squealed with giddy excitement when I spotted an elusive toucan in the trees. And when I dared to let go of the safety rope and spread my arms out like wings as I flew over the treetops, pure joy filled me from head to toe.

  After the tour, the four of us went to dinner. Carlito and I shared a laugh about the shirt of his that I’d ruined. It made me happy to see the worry fade from Dez’s face—worry that she often disguised as anger or annoyance.

  Estevan had slept over again. Carlito had left us after dinner to catch a ride with a friend to Tamarindo, a popular beach town near the resort Dez and I would be staying at for the second half of our trip. He and Estevan had the next few days off and were going to spend it surfing. Before he’d left, Carlito had insisted that we all meet up during our first night in Tamarindo at a dance club called Aqua Disco, which was right on the beach. Dez and I hadn’t been dancing in a while, so we were more than excited about the plan.

  I whistled as I packed our suitcases into the trunk of our rental car. Dez was too busy making out with Estevan on the hood of the car to help, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to say anything to Dez, but I could see a change in her. After Estevan mentioned at dinner that he was driving to his sister’s in Tamarindo the same day we were leaving La Fortuna, Dez had played it cool. In the ladies room, she’d even joked that Estevan would make a good back-up plan if the resort was a bust for hot, single men. But I could tell she was secretly happy Estevan would be close-by, and I had a suspicion she wouldn’t consider him a back-up plan to anybody.

  As I crossed the driving path to head back toward our room for a final check to make sure we didn’t leave anything behind, I heard an angry voice coming from farther down the path. My breath caught in my throat as I watched Byron throwing his black duffle bag into the trunk of his
rental car, which was parked several spots down from ours. The tall hedges that separated the parking spots in groups had blocked us from his view, and vice versa.

  I scuttled quickly out of sight behind the lush flower bushes that towered over the walkway leading to our room. From there, I peeked at Byron through the small openings between the branches and leaves. He was speaking to someone on his cell phone. I knew it was wrong, but I strained to listen to his conversation. Was this the call he had to make that was so important he kicked me out of his villa when I was half-naked? My face burned at the memory of the humiliation and the hurt.

  Try as I might, I could only catch small snippets of what he said. “Wasn’t the deal…lied to me…no way I’m doing that…don’t you dare…I’ll make sure you’ll regret it…”

  I grew confused. All I could gather was that Byron was angry at the person on the phone, but who was it? That last thing he said sounded like a thinly veiled threat, too. Had I misjudged him so much that I didn’t see he was capable of violence? I still couldn’t quite believe it, but his behavior now showed he had the capacity for rage, and his words were threatening.

  His voice rose suddenly as he shouted into the phone. “This relationship is over!” He threw his cell phone onto the ground with such force that it broke into several pieces.

  I gasped. His sharp ears picked up the sound, and his eyes shot in my direction. For a moment, I froze like a frightened rabbit. Could he see me? He kept staring and took a step in my direction.

  Panicked, I turned to bolt into our room, but my shirt caught on a branch of the flower bush. I cursed as I tried to unhook the material of my shirt from the thorns. As I ripped the material free of the thorns’ grasp, the branches that had kept me hidden from Byron’s view parted momentarily—exposing me.

  I looked at him, and he looked at me. In the half-second that the branch took to snap back into place, our eyes met. It was only a half-second, but it was long enough for me to read two clear emotions on Byron’s face—anger and regret.

  I heard a car door slam shut and an engine start. I was still standing on the narrow walkway with a tear in my shirt when Byron drove past in his car and turned onto the main road.

  ***

  “What the fuck!” Dez yelled as I drove our Hyundai Accent on the road leading toward the Papagayo Gulf.

  It was a four-hour car ride from La Fortuna, and I kicked myself for telling Dez about the Byron-bush-broken cell phone incident so soon. Now was I going to be stuck in a car with her for four hours as she tore me a new one.

  “Do I have to keep one of those kid leashes on you at all times to make sure you stay out of trouble—and away from these assholes!” She fumed.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” My forehead wrinkled as I leaned forward and tried to concentrate on the road. “Shit!” I swerved the car toward the edge of the road as a large truck came barreling around a sharp turn toward us, halfway in our lane.

  “Omigod, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna die!” Dez grabbed onto the strap of her seatbelt and held on for dear life, as I quickly swerved the car away from the edge of the road back into the safe middle of our lane.

  Costa Rican roads were treacherous, to say the least. The lanes were barely wide enough to accommodate our small compact car, and none of the roads had shoulders—just an edge that dropped sharply into a three-foot draining ditch. Dez and I referred to them as Death Ditches. I regretted not springing for the extra insurance that included unlimited towing services.

  This was the second decision I was kicking myself for making. I was so distraught about what I’d overheard Byron say on the phone that I volunteered to drive in order to keep my mind occupied. Except, driving along curvy mountain roads lined with Death Ditches wasn’t enough of a distraction to keep me from thinking about Byron. Now, I was just extra stressed about both.

  “I realize between the grief that Byron and the King of Pricks have given you, you may have a death-wish for yourself at this point,” Dez said in a shaky voice, “but I still have a lot of living and getting-laid to do. Plus, Death-by-Costa-Rican-motorway lying next to jungle road kill isn’t exactly a glamorous way to go.”

  “Sorry,” I grumbled and slowed down considerably before taking the next curve. “I’m trying my best. It’d help if you weren’t yelling at me.”

  “If I’m yelling at you, it’s for your own good.”

  “Does this mean you’re not going to tell me what you think the conversation I overheard this morning meant?”

  Dez slid her sunglasses off her nose and onto the crown of her head. Then, she turned to look at me. “I think it means that Byron is in a relationship,” she said quietly.

  I knew she was watching me carefully for my reaction, but I kept calm. After all, I didn’t really need Dez’s interpretation. I’d already come to the same conclusion. It was the most reasonable explanation for his sudden change-of-heart the day he kicked me out of his room, the snippets of his conversation I’d heard, and the regret that was all over his face when he saw me. But sometimes, especially during those occasions when your emotions are running so high you can’t trust your own perception of the world, you just need a third party to confirm or deny your reality.

  It was true. Byron was in a relationship. The person he had to call yesterday after I threw myself at him must’ve been his girlfriend. Or worse, his wife. Maybe all that stuff he’d accused me of about being someone’s unfaithful fiancée was just a projection of his own guilt onto me.

  “Well, I guess it’s official then,” I gulped down the sob that rose in my throat. “I’m a slut.”

  “You’re not a slut.”

  “Yes, I am.” My voice hitched. “I’m the other woman. I slept with a man while he was in a relationship. A man I hardly knew. Only sluts do that.”

  “You didn’t know he was in a relationship, and even so, it sounds like the relationship is on the rocks. Besides, if you’re a slut, then I’m the Queen of Whores.”

  “You’re not a whore.” I blinked rapidly to keep the tears that filled my eyes from spilling. I squeezed my grip on the steering wheel as I worked the car around a series of tight curves. “You’re sexually liberated, and I need to learn to be more like you because this relationship bullshit does nothing for me but put my heart through the wringer over and over again.”

  “I’m not as liberated as you think,” Dez said quietly as she gazed out the window.

  My face softened as I glanced sideways at my friend. “You like Estevan, don’t you,” I said after a pause. “It’s okay to like him, you know.”

  Dez kept her eyes on the scenery passing by her window as she shrugged. “Sure, what’s not to like? He fucks like a champ. Makes my doorbell ring every time, which is more than I can say about ninety-nine percent of the other men I’ve been with. He’s perfect. The perfect abs, a perfect chest, an ass that begs to be spanked. Best of all, he’s got the biggest, straightest, most perfect—”

  “Smile?” I joked. “And he’s perfectly sweet. Not to mention, he worships the ground you walk on.”

  I could see the corner of Dez’s mouth turn up in a smile. “Yeah, he does, doesn’t he? That poor heart is gonna get broken if he isn’t careful.”

  Estevan’s heart…or yours? I wanted to ask but didn’t. Dez rarely opened up this much about her feelings, especially when it came to guys. Despite the fact that she didn’t believe in love or monogamy, or so she claimed, she more than any other person I knew, understood the confusing methodology of love. She may subscribe to a never-fall-in-love policy, but my Dezzy had a heart as big as anyone’s.

  And one belief that I subscribed to was that if you had a heart, somehow, someday, love was going to find its way in.

  “Well, I really like Estevan,” I said neutrally, so Dez wouldn’t feel like I was pushing. “And I’m glad we get to hang out with him in Tamarindo.”

  Dez turned to me and grinned now that we were on safer conversational ground. “He’s going to teach me to surf,” she said wi
th excitement. “I plan on wearing my skimpiest bikini even though he said my tits will fall out of it in the waves. But I don’t care. Laverne and Shirley look so good wet, it’d be a crime to cover them up at the beach.”

  I chuckled. “It’s a good thing you guys will be in the water because when he sees you in your bikini, he’s going to have a situation in his board shorts.”

  “Mmmm, then I just might have to jump on his long board and give it a good waxing!” Dez clapped her hands with anticipation.

  Did I forget to mention that my best friend was the master of sexual innuendo? It’s one of her many charms.

  Dez turned serious for a moment, as if she could sense the emotional chasm between her happiness and my heartache.

  “I’ve been doing some thinking,” she said. “I’m not going to tell you what to do about Douglas, yes, I said the prick’s name, or Byron anymore.” She dug in her purse for something. “Let me just get it on the record that I’ve only been trying to get you to enjoy this vacation and to stop hurting so much. But I realize now that maybe you just need to let yourself feel shitty for a while instead of pretending like you don’t care. Maybe before your heart can put itself back together, you just need to let it finish breaking.”

  She reached into her purse and handed me my cell phone and calling card. “I give you permission to do what you need to do to find your own way out of this. I promise I’ll be there to pick up the pieces. I can’t promise, though, that I won’t yell at you while I do it, but I think you can cut me that much slack. I’m only human, after all.”