So Lachie punched you, huh? In the face? Is there a bruise?
Wednesday 26th February 11.14pm
—Rub-a-Dub Pub Coin Laundry & Liquor—
Nah he punched me in the guts. We rumbled for a while. It’s a bloke thing. You girls should try it, because after you’ve punched each other in the guts a few times, everything can go back to normal. Girls can hold a grudge over stupid stuff for years! My laundry beeper just went off. Duds are done drying. Have to take them out before Lachie steals them.
How good is a laundromat that serves bourbon in a can? Why didn’t I think of that?
Wednesday 26th February 11.24pm
—Rub-a-Dub Pub Coin Laundry & Liquor—
Anyway, so you’re not a virgin. I’m surprised because you look like a girl who hasn’t been made love to. Maybe you still haven’t.
You will have that one day. I hope you do anyway.
I’m just saying that the way you feel when you first see your wave coming - you want it. You paddle towards it with your whole body, and you crouch up and then you’re coasting along the face of the wave, and it’s still hard work, but it feels great.
It can be a million times better than that, like you’re working so hard that you’re shuddering with the strain of it, and clinging to the other person as if you’re on the edge of a cliff, and exhilarated, and you can let go, and just be a creature. We are all beasts really, but you have to find someone who makes you feel safe enough to be one.
That’s what I think anyway.
Thursday 27th February 12.12am
—Waikiki Yacht Club—
I hope I have that one day, too. That I find someone like that and it goes like that. For the record, I don’t want to imply that my experiences were completely unpleasant. Just a bit one-sided, I think. Mr. Greedy being the primary beneficiary. :/ I have nothing to compare it to so I guess I don’t know if it was truly, truly terrible. It wasn’t what you’re describing though, not even close. I guess it remains to be seen if I’ll give and receive what you’re describing. It’s nice to think it’s possible. Thanks for phrasing it so well. (I’ve read it ten times at least...gah...)
Off to take a cold shower, now. Lol.
Thursday 27th February 12.14am
—Waikiki Yacht Club—
(I’m a beast and don’t know it yet, huh? Whew!)
Friday 28th February 9.08pm
—Moon Bowl—
Hey, you. Cristina and I are at glow-in-the-dark bowling. My ball keeps bouncing into the other lane. Wanna meet up?
Saturday 1st March 10.12pm
—Waikiki Yacht Club—
It’s been three days since we talked last. For some reason I feel the need to know what you’re doing right now. It’s after dark so you’re not surfing. Unless night-surfing’s a thing? Do people do that? Dumb question, sorry.
Soooooo, anything interesting going on with Kody? Are you out somewhere that can accommodate the underaged?
Sunday 2nd March 4.10am
—Waikiki Yacht Club—
Well, that’s four messages on my end. Five counting this one. I’m assuming you’re pissed about something. Maybe me hanging out with Lachie a few days back? I tagged along to Foodland. He bought milk, bread, and an overpriced jar of fermented yeast spread. We hung out on the boat after, played darts, and he made me a disgusting sandwich. Big deal.
Sunday 2nd March 8.15am
—Fitness Center at Waikiki Yacht Club—
Okay, last chance. Six unreturned messages is the point where I take my ball and go home.
Sunday 2nd March 8.17am
—Island Golf and Country Club—
Hi sorry I have this other job that I do from time to time. I think I said that. Quite a lot of surf videos and magazines are shot on location here and I sometimes help out with that. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. I scout the best waves for what they want to shoot on that day. Sometimes I train the actor a bit. I’m an extra if they want to film someone surfing.
Reception wasn’t very good at the place where we were.
(Remember the secret beach we went to the other day? They did some episodes of “Lost” there.)
Usually I stay at my friend’s place. She’s a producer, and we’ve normally got quite a bit to catch up on because she’s really busy and it’s all interesting stuff that she’s doing. She has this incredible house up in the jungle with all kinds of movie memorabilia, and an amazing view. Also you never know who is going to be there. It’s an eternal party.
I would set up a permanent hammock there if she wasn’t so far from the beach. She’s kind of an inspirational woman who set up her production business from scratch and I really admire that. She wasn’t, like, born into it.
Yeah Lachie told me you two had been hanging out a bit, so I heard about your Vegemite adventure on the yacht. You’ve got to be indoctrinated into Vegemite I think. Yanks just don’t get it.
We can catch up if you want. I’m playing golf with Olaf at the moment.
‘Drittsek! I haff hit der ball in der drink again!’
I’ve got some new clients lined up this week, (Jacqueline! ;P) so I’m kind of busy, but you can come around if you like. Whatevs.
Sunday 2nd March 1.12pm
—Paia Contemporary Gallery—
Glad you’ve been having such a ball. Your friend sounds amazing. Who doesn’t admire a self-made woman with a decked-out jungle retreat? Maybe you can invite her to that house party luau thingy we’re going to next weekend and introduce us. One of Lachie’s students is hosting it? He says it’s going to be a real blow out. I invited Cristina. Lachie thinks she and Olaf will really hit it off. (I’m not inviting Jacqueline. I’ve decided she’s the walking brain-dead who can’t handle her liquor. She’ll be dancing on the table with her top off and puking on everyone by ten.) But if your producer friend can’t come, feel free to invite Jac if you want. A playdate for you. Be warned though: if she gets wasted, you’re in charge of getting her home. I don’t want to break another designer shoe hauling her back through the marina.
I’ll be in Hilo til then. We’re moving to the Big Island for a few. (My mom and I are hitting the spa. Facials, manis-pedis, the works!)
Whatevs.
See you Saturday.
Tuesday 4th March 10.12am
—Koa Boxing Club & Gym—
The house party is not really Sasha’s kind of thing. I probably won’t go anyway. But you have fun!
(BTW Jac did really great this week. I don’t know if she’ll stick with it, but she was fun and easy to spend time with. You’re kind of hard on people. I’d hate to tell you what to do or anything, but we’re all just doing our best with what we’ve got. You might find it easier to make friends if you let people make mistakes once in a while.)
Thursday 6th March 9.02am
—Hawaiian Graphix—
Hey, Kody. I’m sitting on the curb outside the art store after buying a crap ton of paintbrushes I don’t need and a 500-piece jewelry making kit I’ll never use. (Note to self: Retail therapy is a short high.)
Okay. So.
I’ve tried really hard not to respond before thinking on it a while. I had all these clever snaps lined up in my brain to fire at you but all of them looked bratty in the end. So I’ve backspaced my way out of the insanity and want to tell you something real, something not based in anger or defensiveness but something that I’m really feeling about what you’ve said to me about how I relate to others.
I know I’m hard on people and not easy to be around a lot of the time. You’re not pointing out anything I don’t already know. It’s an established fact of the known universe that Amelia Beauchamp has trouble making friends. With Jac, I think it’s because she reminds me of girls back home. I shouldn’t do that to her, make sweeping judgments about her based around my past experiences. Simon, too, I suppose. And his brother and the rest of the people who are calling this place home for the season. They’re their own selves with unique histories, and I sho
uldn’t assume to have them all wrapped up in a tidy word or two. It’s not fair to assume that you know a person inside and out when you don’t.
With you, it’s different. I don’t know anyone even remotely like you and that’s what makes me lash out and get snotty with you. That’s why I ask too many questions. I’m frustrated with the need to know more. I want to know what you’re doing when we’re not together and I want to know what you’re thinking when we are. I can’t even begin to guess what goes on in your brain. (Strike that...except when you’ve had too many beers, then I’m pretty sure I know.)
But I’m not completely friendless and closed-off. At least not as much as I used to be. I think Cristina genuinely likes me and I genuinely like her. She invited me for a sleepover. Probably sounds dumb, having a sleepover, but it was fun. We did nails and played bowling on her old Wii. We ate dim sum on the lanai and her grandmother explained the spirit of Aloha to me. There were younger siblings and cousins everywhere, running around, and crawling all over us. It was wonderful. We’ve never had weirdness between us, and it could be very easy to have weirdness between us considering her mom cleans my room and does my laundry. So maybe there’s hope for me in the friend department. Last I counted, I have three of what I hope are real friends now. And if what you’re saying is true and there is more to Jacqueline than meets the eye, that could make four. That’s more than I’ve ever had at one time so I think I’m off to a good start.
Thursday 6th March 9.25am
—Koa Boxing Club & Gym—
You can be a really cool chick, you know that?
But I still can’t come to the party.
I’m at the gym right now. Lachie gets me to spar with him. Or at least I hold pads and he smacks the shit out of them and frightens me. This place is a perpetual armpit. Sweat and blood and lugies. Pressed metal and Amity Affliction.
The thing is the bro code. You know the bro code? Lachie called dibs, like I said. I couldn’t call dibs, for obvious reasons. And he’s punched me enough times to indicate that he requires my absence in order to work his magic with you.
Also I saw the two of you the other day in the florist shop.
Lachie! In a florist shop! Blew. My. Mind.
I had to go into the jungle and swing in a hammock and think about it for a while. Like Hemingway, without the genius – just the gin. (Although I really did have business to attend to. You don’t totally run my life.) I am thinking I should take you up there one time. You would like Sasha. She has, like, this radiant energy.
Lachie really likes you. I think. Maybe I was wrong.
Saturday 8th March 10.16pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Hey, you! You came! I can see you by the keg. O_O Look up, I’m on the balcony. *waves hello*
Saturday 8th March 10.18pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Nice shirt, btw. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a shirt. Very Aloha-without-trying-too-hard. :P
Saturday 8th March 10.25pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Yeah ta. I’ve been here for ages. You look like you’re having a good time. Might go soon anyway.
Saturday 8th March 10.43pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
You’re not going to come up and say hi to me?
Saturday 8th March 10.43pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Wouldn’t want to cramp your style.
Saturday 8th March 10.44pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Slap the beer out of my hand at least?
Saturday 8th March 10.45pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Slap your own self. Oh that’s right. You only wanted my advice when you were paying for it. That will be twenty bucks.
Saturday 8th March 11.01pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
We’re doing shots up here, sure you don’t want to join us for a toast? Seal the deal on the bro code thing? Hawaiian Shooters. Yum.
Saturday 8th March 11.12pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
For a thoroughbred you don’t have very nice manners. The first time I met you, you had no top on, you literally threw money at me and then ran, and that kind of sums you up altogether, doesn’t it?
Saturday 8th March 11.14pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
“I have never said anything hurtful to you. Ever.” Now we’re even. Cut it out.
Saturday 8th March 11.15pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
You didn’t notice how much more interested Lachie was after he’d been to the fcken cruise ship you live on? Must be true love.
Saturday 8th March 11.16pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Stop it. Apologize now and I’ll chalk it up to the beer. I don’t think I can be friends with you after this otherwise.
Saturday 8th March 11.19pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
No skin off my nose, babe.
Saturday 8th March 11.22pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Don’t EVER call me that again! It’s belittling and trashy. And since I’m on the subject, so is “dibs.” It implies ownership over someone who has no say in the matter. Seriously, you’re freaking me out, Kody. You’re passing the point of no return with me. Think about what you’re doing and saying here. Is this what you really want?
Saturday 8th March 11.28pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Who called dibs, Amelia? It wasn’t me, it was your mate.
Saturday 8th March 11.29pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
My mistake. It’s ‘Millsy’ now, isn’t it? He gets to name you too. Like a pooch.
Saturday 8th March 11.37pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Last time I checked, Fifi is what you’d name a poodle.
You think you know me but you don’t know shit. You’re a hypocrite and a dick. A drunk dick. You’ve been up to the keg six times in the last hour at least. Seriously, there’s an AA support group somewhere on this island, find it. But since you’re apparently on a bender, let’s have a goodbye drink together. There’s a bottle of Jack on the table next to you. Cheers, fucker. *Millsy*
Saturday 8th March 11.40pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Now she’s had one night on the turps and she’s an expert on drinking. Jack and I are leaving now. Might find the other Jac. She’ll be up for it. Byeeeee!
Saturday 8th March 11.41pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
I’m coming down. Don’t you dare leave.
Saturday 8th March 11.42pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
You know what? We passed the point of no return ages ago.
You can have this. I don’t want it any more.
Catch!
Saturday 8th March 11.58pm
I was about to write “What the hell was that?” Then I realized I’m the one with your phone so I’d only be sending it to myself. I AM sending it to myself. I’m totally drunk. On the turps or whatever you called it. *Google on the teups.* “Drunk, inebriated, from “on the turpentine” Urban Dictionary.com. You’re lucky I’m a good catch. it almost went inthe pool. Im going home too. I hate you.
Saturday 8th March 11.59pm
—Private Residence, Honolulu, Oahu—
Your phone just go tthe message I sent.. the Wipeout Song is my text tone? Really? Nothing from the playlist at least? Thanksalot.
Sunday 9th March 7.16am
—Waikiki Yacht Club—
Sun’s up. My first hangover. If you could see me you would point your finger and laugh and laugh. Lachie had to carry me onto the boat and to my room. I’m lucky my mom and Paul were sleeping
and Cristina was able to distract the crew or I’d have been in deep shit. Lachie was sweet, he didn’t want to leave me but I started crying and acting super foolish so Cristina made him leave so he would no longer have to witness the spectacle that was Amelia June’s first night on the turps. At least I was able to keep a lid on the reason I was crying. If I’d blurted out your name, he’d probably think I was the dumbest bitch of all time. Then after he left, you’re pretty much all I babbled about. Cristina spent most of the night holding my hair while I puked and cried about the mean things you said to me. She said you’re a walking stereotype. An Aussie surf rat transplant who wants his cake and wants to eat it, too. She said you don’t know anything about the spirit of Aloha. She told me all the things I wanted to hear about you.
She’s gone now, off to work the reservation desk at the Hyatt. I’m sending her flowers later. Or chocolates. Or maybe I’ll pop open this ridiculous jewelry kit and make her a bead bracelet. I know it’s only been a few weeks but she’s the best friend I’ve ever had.
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