Just My Luck

by Jennifer Honeybourn

  “It’s a toss-up between Luke Cage or Wolverine,” Nalani replies.

  Hayes shakes his head. “You can’t have sex with Wolverine. He’d shred you with his claws.”

  “They’re retractable. He’d put them away after he used them to rip off my clothes,” she says, laying a hand against her chest and fluttering her eyelashes at him.

  Hayes almost chokes on his sunflower seeds.

  “I’m not quite sure how we got here,” Will says to me as I climb in beside him, slinging my bag to the floor. “But somehow the conversation has taken a turn.”

  Nalani glances over her shoulder at me. “We’re talking about fictional characters we’d like to bang.” She smiles. “I know who Marty would pick.”

  She starts to sing “Friend Like Me” totally off-key, and I blush hard.

  “You want to have sex with the genie from Aladdin?” Hayes asks, like I’m some kind of deviant.

  I roll my eyes. “Not the genie. Aladdin. I was ten. And I never said I wanted to have sex with him.”

  “That may be true, but you definitely have a type,” Nalani says. “Dark hair, dark eyes.”

  I can feel dark-haired/dark-eyed Will looking at me.

  “What about you, Will?” Nalani asks as she backs out of the driveway.

  “I’ve never thought about it.”

  “Will has a thing for dark hair, too,” Hayes chimes in. “Long dark hair. Like yours, Marty.”

  Will’s face starts to go red. He clears his throat. “What is the point of this conversation, exactly?”

  I turn to look out the window, hiding a smile. Something is definitely happening between us.

  Hana isn’t somewhere you can get in a hurry—it’s a twisty stretch of narrow road through a rain forest, most of it just one lane. The speed limit is only twenty-five miles per hour. The highway is bordered by the ocean, steep cliffs, and a million bridges.

  “So I know you mentioned that the road was twisty, but man, it is really twisty,” Will says ten minutes into the journey.

  “I’d like to tell you that it gets better, but I’d be lying,” Nalani replies. “Hayes, I will kill you if you throw up.”

  I glance at Hayes. He’s leaning his head against the back of the seat, his eyes closed. He does look a little green.

  “Shouldn’t have eaten all those sunflower seeds,” he says.

  “All that alcohol probably didn’t help, either,” Will responds.

  “Maybe roll the window down.” There’s currently nowhere to pull over and no way to turn around, not for miles and miles anyway. It would really not be good if he threw up in the van.

  What feels like ages later, the road finally widens slightly. I spot a lookout point with a coconut stand. Nalani pulls onto the shoulder of the road. “I’ll get you something to drink,” I say, grabbing my wallet out of my bag. “Maybe that will help settle your stomach.”

  “We should probably all get some air,” Will says.

  The coconut stand is a rustic shack built out of mismatched wood set near the edge of a cliff. A clumsily built split-rail fence is the only thing separating it from the waves crashing below. Hayes clutches his stomach as he follows Nalani over to the weathered wooden bench beside the shack.

  “Aloha,” the girl behind the counter says. She’s wearing a red pareo, her blond hair twisted into two bear-ear buns on the top of her head.

  “Four coconuts, please.”

  We watch as she picks up a machete and pries off the top of a green coconut, then digs a hole in the center and pops a bendy straw through the hole. She passes the first coconut to me before repeating the process for the other coconuts.

  Before I can pay, Will hands her a twenty-dollar bill, depositing some of the change into the tip jar on the counter, and we carry the coconuts over to Nalani and Hayes. A breeze is blowing off the blue-green water of the Pacific Ocean.

  “You look a little better,” I say, giving Hayes his coconut. The color has started to return to his cheeks.

  “That’s because he threw up behind that eucalyptus tree over there,” Nalani says.

  Hayes takes a sip from his coconut and makes a yuck face. “And this just might make me heave again.”

  “It’s an acquired taste,” I say. “I promise it will make you feel better. You just have to power through it.”

  Hayes pulls a tiny bottle of rum out of his pocket and holds it up. “Well, if it doesn’t make me feel better, this certainly will.”

  “Seriously?” Will says, shaking his head as his brother adds a healthy dose to his drink. Nalani holds her coconut out, but then curses, remembering that she’s our driver, and pulls back before he can add any.

  “Will, you really need to lighten up,” Hayes says. “We’re on vacation.”

  Will’s mouth tightens.

  “So what do you want to do when we get to Hana?” Nalani asks.

  “What is there to do?”

  “It’s pretty quiet,” I say. Especially at night. I assumed we would hang out in the hotel, but I should have realized that what Hayes is looking for is a party. And that’s definitely not something he’s going to find in Hana.

  “Great,” he says sullenly. “How much longer until we get there, anyway?”

  “A few more hours,” I say, doing my best to keep the irritation out of my voice. He seems to have forgotten that this trip was his idea in the first place.

  He groans.

  “There’s a waterfall about an hour away that’s pretty spectacular. We can stop there for a swim,” Nalani says.

  We walk back toward the van—some of us slightly more steadily than others. As soon as we get close to the vehicle, I notice that the passenger door is wide open.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Any chance one of you left the door open?”

  From their silence, I know the answer.

  Nalani runs toward the van and pokes her head inside. “Everything’s gone.”

  “Aw man,” Hayes cries. “My Burberry bag! I was on a wait list for months for that bag.”

  I close my eyes. Maui has a lot of petty theft. Nalani and I both know this—everybody on the island knows this—and yet we didn’t lock the van. We stupidly left our bags right out in the open. All someone had to do was open the door and grab the bags. Which they did.

  I can’t help but think that this is Karma. After all, I stole from others; it only makes sense that the universe would balance that out by having someone steal from me. I just wish that my friends hadn’t been caught in the cross fire.

  I have my phone and wallet on me, thank goodness, but I’ve lost my clothes—and the shot glass.

  My legs suddenly feel weak. How am I supposed to get my luck back if I can’t send that stupid shot glass back?

  “They even took my sunflower seeds,” Hayes says. “Who would take a half-empty bag of sunflower seeds?”

  What can I say to that? I took a novelty shot glass, of all things—which just proves that I have more in common with this thief than with the Foster brothers.

  “We should probably just head back to the Grand Palms.” I can survive twenty-four hours in what I’m currently wearing, but I’m not sure any of us are in the road-trip mood any longer.

  “Okay, this is definitely a setback,” Will says. “But I think we should keep going, if you guys are up for it. We’ve come this far. We can pick up whatever we need when we get to Hana.”

  “That’s easy enough for you, but Marty and I don’t have a billion dollars to throw around on new stuff,” Nalani says, crossing her arms.

  “Nalani,” I say, horrified. Sure, Will just assumed that it wouldn’t be a problem to replace our stolen stuff because he comes from a place where money isn’t an issue. I know she’s making a not-so-subtle point about his entitlement, and she’s not wrong, but I still wish she’d kept her mouth shut. Drawing attention to our financial situation is embarrassing.

  “She’s right. I wasn’t thinking,” Will says, his cheeks burning. “New stuff is on me.�
��

  I know he’s trying to do the right thing, but honestly, this just makes me feel worse.

  “In that case,” Nalani says, smiling. “Let’s keep going.”

  I’d really rather not. I’m upset about losing that shot glass—seriously, what am I going to do? But once again, they’re all staring at me expectantly and so, once again, I give in.

  Sixteen

  I am in a mood.

  I haven’t said anything since we left the coconut stand half an hour ago. Will keeps shooting questioning glances at me, but I ignore him. All I can think about is that shot glass. And okay, it’s not like it’s unique—there are a million of them on the island—but I’m worried that if I buy another one and mail it off instead, it won’t count. But that’s pretty much my only option.

  We arrive at Wailele Farm, where Twin Falls is located. I feel marginally less cranky after we buy some bottles of water and pineapple spears at the farm stand in the parking lot.

  “Are you sure we’re going in the right direction?” Hayes asks as we walk across the gravel toward the jungle. We pass by houses’ KEEP OUT signs to discourage tourists from wandering onto private property. “There was a waterfall back there.”

  “There’s a better one up here,” Nalani says.

  Hayes lets out a heavy sigh as we walk into the jungle. It’s as humid as a greenhouse. My T-shirt is already sticking to my lower back as we head down a path lined with tall green stalks of bamboo that block out most of the sun and trap in the heat. The wind blows through the bamboo cane, knocking them gently together, making a sound like wind chimes.

  I slap at a mosquito on my arm. “We may regret doing this without bug spray,” I say. Another thing that was in my backpack, along with my sunscreen.

  “Are we there yet?” Hayes says. He’s trailing behind Nalani and Will and me.

  “No,” Will replies, an edge to his voice. His patience is clearly running out with his brother and I can’t say I blame him. Hayes seems preprogrammed to complain about everything.

  Five minutes pass before he starts in again. “Why didn’t anyone tell me we were going to have to hike a million miles?” he grumbles. “I would have waited for you back in the air-conditioned van.”

  “Hayes, you really need to lighten up,” Will says, parroting his brother’s words back to him. “We’re on vacation.”

  A chunk of pineapple whizzes past Will’s ear. Will laughs.

  We cross over a wooden plank and trudge up a small hill. I’ve been to this waterfall a few times before and Nalani’s right—it’s worth the hike. A few minutes later we hear a rush of water as the forest parts to reveal two twin waterfalls spilling down the side of a cave that’s almost hidden behind a curtain of vines. A group of hikers are sitting on slick black rocks that rim the pool of green water. A few people are swimming.

  Will immediately peels off his T-shirt. He’s quickly down to his black boxer shorts—his swimsuit was in his stolen bag, but apparently that’s not going to stop him from getting into the water. The sight of his washboard abs, the line of dark hair that starts at his belly button and disappears under the waistband of his underwear, makes me light-headed.

  Hayes and Nalani strip down, too. Like me, Nalani still has her swimsuit on underneath her clothes and her tiny yellow bikini makes Hayes’s eyes bug out.

  While the boys wade in the pool, yelping at the coldness of the water, I sit down on the black rock. I tell Nalani I’ll stay and guard our stuff.

  “Are you sure?” she says. “You could still go in. Just don’t get your bandage wet.”

  But I don’t want to take the chance. Given how my luck has been lately, I’ll probably end up with a flesh-eating infection or something.

  “It’s fine,” I say, hoping they won’t be in the water too long. The rock is not super comfortable to sit on and the mosquitos are eating me alive. I’ve already got two big red bites on my ankle.

  Hayes screams. “Oh my god, something just brushed against my leg! Are there jellyfish in here?”

  Nalani rolls her eyes. “You’d be out of your mind with pain if it was a jellyfish,” she says. “There isn’t anything living in here that I’m aware of.”

  “Well, something just touched me!”

  I slap at another mosquito, watching Will float on his back. The late-afternoon sun filters through the trees, reflecting off his body. Nalani flies across the pond on the rope swing, yelling like Tarzan.

  After a few minutes, Will climbs out. His underwear sticks to his skin, not leaving a whole lot to the imagination, and I feel a blush creep over my cheeks as he sits down beside me. We don’t have any towels—also stolen!—so he shivers for a few minutes until the sun works its magic and dries him off.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” he says. “Kind of prehistoric. Like going back in time to when dinosaurs roamed the earth.”

  “Maybe that’s what Hayes felt in the water,” I say, and Will laughs. “Actually, these falls are supposed to be an energy vortex.” I’m not sure if it’s myth or just good marketing, but this island supposedly has a ton of healing properties. There are a bunch of wellness retreats in Hana where tourists pay big bucks to do yoga and get massaged with crystals.

  “What’s an energy vortex, exactly?” he asks.

  “No idea.”

  His bare leg brushes against mine and I definitely feel a surge of energy. It takes me back to the other night, when we were lying on the lounge. Before it collapsed.

  “Do you feel any different?” he asks.

  It takes me a second to realize he’s asking about the vortex and not our all-too-brief physical contact.

  I swallow. “Nope.”

  “Yeah, me either.”

  Will suddenly stiffens as Hayes climbs up the side of the rock, obviously intent on flinging himself from the top of the cave and into water. Apparently he didn’t learn anything from his dive into the swimming pool at the mansion.

  “Hayes! Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Hayes shrugs. Then he cannonballs into the water, sending up a spray that almost reaches us.

  Will sighs when his brother resurfaces a few seconds later. “I promised my parents he wouldn’t die on this trip, but I’m beginning to think that’s one promise I won’t be able to keep.”

  “I think it’s nice that you look out for him.”

  “Nice,” Will says, wincing. “You think I’m nice?”

  “What’s wrong with nice?”

  “It’s pretty much the kiss of death.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “In my experience with girls, nice means ‘Buddy, you’ve got no chance.’”

  My heart starts to jackhammer in my chest. Is he insinuating that he’s hoping to have a chance with me?

  I think he is.

  “Maybe you’ve just been talking to the wrong girls,” I say.

  A slow smile spreads over Will’s face. Something electric passes between us and I’m positive that he’s thinking about kissing me. I really wish we were alone. I feel like we could be something really great if only we had more time—and we weren’t separated by thousands of miles.

  A cloud passes overhead, momentarily blocking out the sun. I tell myself that not everything is a sign—sometimes a cloud is just a cloud. It’s not an omen.

  Will clears his throat. “You’re lucky it’s hot here all year long. East Coast winters are not my favorite.”

  “I like the idea of living somewhere where the seasons change.”

  “Well, then you’d definitely like Pennsylvania.”

  I think about Will at his Ivy League school, unhappy but trapped by obligation. Giving up his dreams to live the life his parents want for him. And my own future, living with my mom, working at the hotel. Not too long ago, that felt as comforting as a blanket. But now I’m starting to wonder if I’m actually just hiding under that blanket.

  “We should probably get going,” I say. “We shouldn’t be driving on the twisty highway once the
sun sets.”

  Will stands up and offers me his hand. It sends shock waves right through me, the same way it did the other night when we held hands. And if he can manage that with just a simple touch, I don’t know what would happen if he did kiss me.

  But I really, really want to find out.

  Seventeen

  The sun has completely disappeared by the time we make it to Hana. We stop at the general store to grab some supplies to replace what was stolen from the van. While Will and Hayes head for the snack aisle, I loop a wire basket over my arm and follow Nalani to the clothing section.

  “Stop scratching,” Nalani says, flipping through a rack of cheap T-shirts.

  “I can’t help it.” I rub at a mosquito bite underneath my armpit—I am covered in bites and I’m itchy all over, in places I can’t even reach.

  Nalani holds two T-shirts up. “Which one do you want?” she says, giving me the choice between a coconut wearing lipstick or a pineapple with a lei. I reluctantly point at the pineapple, although the truth is I’d rather just keep wearing Will’s shirt. But I guess at some point I’m going to need to give it back to him.

  She adds a couple of pareos—purple for me, orange for her—some striped beach towels, and two pairs of neon-yellow slippers to the pile. When she starts to try on sunglasses, I wander over to the first-aid aisle to grab some calamine lotion. At this point, I will do anything to make the itching stop.

  I stick a large bottle of the pink lotion into the basket, along with gauze and medical tape, in case I need to replace the bandage on my forehead. I also pick up some sunscreen, toothbrushes, and toothpaste, wondering how much this is all going to cost. Unlike Nalani, I’m not comfortable with letting Will pick up the bill, and I can’t exactly put this on the hotel credit card. He’s already paying for the hotel rooms. And, okay, he can afford it, but that’s not the point. I don’t want him to think I’m interested in his money. Especially when it’s the least interesting thing about him.

  I wander over to the section with tourist memorabilia and I’m relieved to find a row of the same hula-girl shot glasses as the one I stole. This one costs six dollars—which seems like a total rip-off—but it’s going to have to do.