Just My Luck

by Jennifer Honeybourn

  “A little help!” Nalani yells from just outside the van.

  Will climbs over the seat and slides open the door. Nalani is holding on to Hayes, almost buckling under the weight of trying to keep him upright. Both of them are soaked to the skin from the rain. Hayes’s legs are about as stable as seaweed. His arm is slung around her shoulders and his head is rolling loosely around on his neck, like he can’t hold it up.

  Will jumps out of the van and grabs his brother’s waist.

  “Didn’t you guys hear me yelling?” she says as he lowers Hayes onto the bench seat. He lays him on his side, then gives him a solid shake to try to rouse him.

  Hayes slaps Will’s hand away. “What are you doing?” His voice is slurred.

  “Making sure you don’t die, you idiot,” Will replies. His face is stony, but I can see the fear in his eyes.

  “He was down at the beach,” Nalani says. “By the time I found him, he’d already downed half the bottle.”

  Hayes’s eyes drift closed and Will shakes his shoulder again.

  “Stop,” he mumbles.

  “Should we take him to the doctor?” I say. There’s a clinic in Hana, and I just hope it’s open this late, because the hospital is all the way on the other side of the island.

  Will shakes his head. “I’ve been here with him before. He just needs to sleep it off,” he says. We help him prop Hayes up so Will can peel off his wet clothes. When Hayes is down to his underwear, Will guides him back down to the seat, positioning him so he’s on his side, and covers him with a beach towel.

  “Do you mind if I take the backseat?” Will asks us. “I’m going to stay up and watch him.”

  “Why don’t we take shifts?” It doesn’t seem fair that he has to stay awake all night.

  He shakes his head. “He’s my brother. I need to do it.”

  So Nalani and I take the front seats, reclining them all the way back until we’re staring up at the roof of the van. The rain is still pounding. I don’t know how I’ll be able to sleep through it, but I guess I’m more tired than I thought, because as soon as I close my eyes, I’m out.

  * * *

  Sometime in the night the rain finally stopped. The sky has just started to brighten when I wake up. I’m stiff from sleeping in an awkward position and I’m freezing—beach towels don’t exactly make great blankets.

  Nalani is softly snoring in the driver’s seat beside me. I sit up and twist around to look for Will. He gives me a small smile. Even from across the van, I can see those dark circles under his eyes.

  “Did you get any sleep?” I ask him.

  He shrugs.

  “How is Hayes?”

  “He hasn’t moved,” he says. “He’s going to feel pretty crappy when he wakes up. Which is exactly what he deserves.”

  My mouth is dry and I’m sure my breath smells like death. I quietly dig in the bags for my toothbrush and toothpaste.

  “I need some air,” I say.

  “I could use a walk.”

  Hayes and Nalani continue to sleep as Will climbs across the seat. We slide out of the van and walk across the parking lot. The air is cool and birds are chirping. The sun is just beginning to rise and the sky is a rose-gold pink. Will reaches for my hand as we cross the street. The feel of his palm against mine sets my heart racing.

  We stop at the public restroom. Luckily, it’s open. I go in first. It smells so awful, I have to hold my breath while I quickly pee and brush my teeth at the tiny, chipped porcelain sink. But I feel a lot better when I come out. Will asks to borrow my toothpaste, and I wait for him while he takes his turn in the bathroom.

  We kick off our slippers, abandoning them as soon as we hit the sand. The tide is on its way out, leaving a flat stretch of black sand that’s wet and cold on our bare feet. We stop when we get to the edge of the water, listening to the waves roll out.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how beautiful it is here,” Will says. He’s staring out at the ocean, his hands shoved in his pockets. I sneak a look at him, studying the sharp line of his nose, the curve of his lips, his thick dark hair rustling in the breeze, and a pit forms in my stomach.

  I’m falling hard for him. Will Foster has already made a mark on me that I’m scared won’t ever be erased. When he leaves, I’m afraid he’ll take my heart with him.

  He moves behind me and wraps his arms around me, and I want this moment to go on forever. And when he plants kisses on my neck that makes me shake all over, I try to just enjoy it and not think about what will happen when he’s no longer here.

  “I’m going to tell my dad that I don’t want to go to Wharton,” Will says. “I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

  I lean back, my head resting against his shoulder. “That’s great.” I’m happy that he’s taking charge of his own life, that he’s decided to live his for himself, not for his parents.

  Unlike me. Staying on the island for my mom.

  It’s not the same thing, I think. My mom isn’t forcing me to do something I don’t want to do. She doesn’t even know that I’m doing it.

  “Maybe I’ll do some traveling,” he says. “Backpack across the country.”

  “Backpack, as in stay in hostels?” I say, and I can’t help smiling. “You know they don’t have swim-up bars?”

  His arms tighten around me. “It would be an adventure. And, hey, I’ve slept in worse places. I mean, a hostel has to be more comfortable than sleeping in a van.” He kisses my neck and I shiver. “And maybe you could meet up with me.”

  My smile falters. It sounds great, but once Will leaves this island, he’ll go back to his real life. Staying in hostels is not going to be his reality—and neither am I. Pretty soon I’ll become a story, a girl he once met on vacation, and all these feelings will fade to a dream. For him, anyway.

  I loosen myself from his arms. “I’m staying here, remember?”

  “You’ll have an entire year off,” he says, drawing me back. “Just say you’ll think about it.”

  So I tell him I will, but I don’t really believe it’ll happen.

  Nineteen

  We leave Hana just after sunrise. Hayes is incredibly hungover and it takes us longer to get back to Wailea than it normally would, because we have to pull over several times so he can throw up.

  When we finally get to the Grand Palms, Hayes slides out of the passenger seat and walks off without a word.

  “So that was fun,” Will says, watching him go. “Sorry, again, about my brother.”

  “You don’t need to apologize for him,” I reply.

  He gives me a small smile. He leans over and kisses me. I flush, feeling Nalani’s eyes on us in the rearview mirror.

  I’m still flushing as we climb out of the backseat and I get into the front with her.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Marty?” Nalani says as Will disappears into the lobby. “No tourist is worth the heartbreak, no matter how cute he is.”

  I glance out the window so she can’t see my face. I’ve been telling myself the same thing, but hearing the words come out of her mouth just reaffirms the impossibility of the whole situation.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I say. But I don’t sound convincing.

  We arrive at her house. Her mom is a reclaimed junk artist and their yard is littered with metal sea creatures—turtles, dolphins, a six-foot-tall mermaid. Her stepdad, Dave, is sitting on the front porch, rubbing their dog, Daisy’s, belly.

  Nalani puts the van in park. “You want to come in?”

  It’s been ages since we’ve hung out, just the two of us, but I’m exhausted and I just want to sleep in my own bed.

  “I should probably get home.”

  “Are you sure you’re well enough to drive?” she asks.

  “I’ll be fine. It’s only a few blocks.”

  I hear Mom and Ansel arguing as soon as I pull into our driveway. The front door flies open and Ansel storms out, his face a mask of anger.

  “Run while you c
an,” he says. “She’s on a rampage.”

  He gets into his truck and takes off in a cloud of exhaust. I want so badly for him to take me with him, wherever it is he’s going, but it’s too late. My mom’s standing in the doorway, her arms crossed. I get out of the van and walk toward her, feeling myself shrink under her angry glare.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were in an accident?”

  My fingers touch the bandage on my forehead. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  She shakes her head. “I have told you both, time and again, that surfing is dangerous,” she says. “And you think it’s okay to disappear all night?”

  “Mom. I’m fine,” I say. “And I didn’t disappear all night. I left you a note.”

  “And why didn’t you answer my texts?”

  “My phone was off.”

  She takes a deep breath. I guess fighting with my brother must have worn her down because she just shakes her head again, like she doesn’t have any energy left to deal with me. For a moment I feel sorry for her—until I get down to my room and see that my door is wide open.

  Libby is nowhere to be found.

  I run back up the stairs and into the kitchen, where my mom is calmly loading the dishwasher. This must be where her battle with Ansel broke out, because it looks like he left without finishing his blueberry pancakes.

  “Where’s Libby?”

  “If you mean the cat you were hiding in your room, I took it to the shelter last night,” my mom says. She rinses off a plate and sticks it in the lower rack of the dishwasher, like it’s totally normal to just get rid of her daughter’s cat with no fair warning.

  And, okay, I know it was wrong to hide Libby from her, but this is exactly why I did it. She’s so rigid, so unbending. I’m tired of doing things her way. All these months of holding in my feelings, of tiptoeing around her, and she can’t give me this one thing.

  “How could you do that?” I yell.

  My mom’s spine straightens. “Marty, I told you—no pets.”

  My chest is heaving. I’m going to cry if I stand here, and I don’t want to cry. Libby was taken to the shelter hours ago—she could have been adopted by someone else by now. Or worse. “If anything happens to her, I will never forgive you.”

  And I’ll never forgive myself.

  * * *

  Libby’s small gray face peeks out at me from behind the cage. I poke my fingers through the metal bars and she nuzzles her head against them. Her fur is soft and warm. This is all my fault. I should have found a real home for her.

  After I finish buying her back from the shelter, I take her out to the van in her carrier. I can’t bring her to my house, obviously—my mom would only make me take her back here.

  I sit in the parking lot, trying to figure out what to do. I want to select the family she ends up with, but that might take a while. Benjie already said he couldn’t take her. Nalani’s allergic to cats, so she’s out.

  I bite my lip and shoot a text to Will. I know it’s a big ask, but he’s the only person who might be able take her temporarily. When he responds right away, telling me to bring her over, I relax a little.

  Fifteen minutes later Will answers his door in jogging pants and a T-shirt. My heart turns over as he blinks sleepily at me.

  I wince. “I woke you up.” It should have occurred to me that he’d be sleeping—he didn’t get much rest last night.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He leans forward and kisses me, then bends down to look through the cat carrier at Libby.

  “I really appreciate this,” I say. “It’s just for a day or two, until I find a permanent home for her.” He straightens and I hand him the cat carrier. Our fingers brush and I feel that touch vibrate through my body.

  “No problem,” he says, smiling. “I love cats.”

  “How’s Hayes?”

  “Sleeping it off,” he says. “I think he’s going to be out of action for a while.” He sets Libby’s carrier on the ground and pulls me toward him, his arms snaking around my waist. “Can you stay for a bit?”

  It’s really hard to say no when he’s nuzzling his nose against my neck, but I have to send the shot glass back. Besides, he needs to get some sleep and I can’t guarantee that he’ll get any if I stay.

  “I’d better not.” I disentangle myself before I change my mind. “I’ll see you tonight?” I’m taking him to a coffee shop in Lahaina, just the two of us, after I go home and get some sleep.

  “Tonight,” he says.

  * * *

  Besides the cost of mailing the shot glass, I have to buy a box and some bubble wrap so it doesn’t break as it makes its way to Delaware. Altogether, the shot glass costs me twenty dollars to send back to the good doctor.

  By the time I get home, my mom has already left for work. She’s set a plate of brownies on the counter, along with a note that I don’t bother reading. Nice try, but I’m still mad at her. She can’t fix this situation with baked goods.

  I go to my room and pull out the shoebox. There’s only one item left—the luggage tag.

  “You have to come tonight,” Nalani said, dumping an armful of towels into the laundry bag attached to her housekeeping cart. She’d been trying to convince me to go to the bonfire with her for the past half hour. “You can’t avoid Kahale forever.”

  “I’m not trying to avoid him,” I said. But I totally was. It had only been a few weeks since prom and I did not feel ready to see him. I’m not sure I would ever be ready. The shock of it all had worn off, but I still hadn’t gotten past the hurt and humiliation yet.

  I started to pull the sheets off the bed.

  “Hey, look at this.” Nalani pulled out a long white veil hanging in the closet and placed it on her head. She grabbed a vase of fresh plumeria flowers off the bureau and held them in front of her. “How do I look?”

  “Weird.”

  Destination weddings were a huge business on Maui. The Grand Palms hosted weddings in its on-site chapel a few times a week. The hotel even had a full-time wedding coordinator.

  While Nalani pretended to throw the bouquet, I finished making the bed. I started straightening the garbage on the top of the desk—receipts, loose change—organizing it into neat piles. Inside a small plastic bag was a blue leather luggage tag in the shape of a surfboard, Maui written on it in neon-yellow letters. Goosebumps broke out on my arms. My dad had a luggage tag similar to this one—so I guess that’s why I took it. Not because I was punishing the people staying in this room, but because it reminded me of him.

  I close my eyes. That was the night that we went to the bonfire, when my mom caught me and had me reassigned to the front desk. Now that I remembered the date, it shouldn’t be too hard to find out what weddings were held that week. Now it’s just a matter of getting the happy couple’s names and I can send the last item on its way.

  I let out a long, slow breath. I’m finally going to get my luck back.

  Twenty

  After I get a few hours of sleep, I go back to the hotel to pick Will up. We drive toward Lahaina with the windows down, Will’s arm resting on the windowsill. Now that he’s made the decision not to go to business school, he seems more relaxed. The world is an open road for him, and he can go anywhere he likes.

  And maybe he’s not the only one.

  Ever since my fight with my mom this morning, I’ve been thinking about following through with my original plans to travel with Nalani. Ansel is right: I can’t live my life for my mom. And if I stay on Maui, I’m just running in place, destined to go nowhere. My life will never be any different if I don’t suck up the courage and take a chance. And while the idea of leaving Maui is scary, maybe that’s exactly why I need to do it.

  I have just enough money saved to cover a few months of travel, if I’m careful. If I had to, I could always get a job. I know Nalani will be thrilled that I’ve changed my mind about going with her.

  So before I can talk myself out of it, I tell Will about my change in plans. “Who knows? Maybe w
e can meet up after all,” I say.

  He twists in his seat to look at me, a smile spreading across his face. “Are you serious?”

  I nod, laughing when he leans out the window and howls like a wolf.

  For the rest of the ride, we talk about all the places we’d like to visit—the Grand Canyon, Redwood Forest, Joshua Tree. I can’t stop smiling.

  I find rock star parking right on Front Street. We get out of the van and walk along the boardwalk, past tourist shops and restaurants. When we pass Ululani’s, one of the most popular shave ice places on Maui, Will changes his mind about coffee.

  “Maybe we should go here instead,” he says as a man with a purple-and-red shave ice the size of a softball wanders past us.

  He doesn’t need to convince me—I’m always in the mood for shave ice. And when he tells me he’s never tried it, I grab his arm and pull him into line.

  Will studies all the different choices listed on the menu. “I’m thinking the Hawaiian Rainbow,” he says. It’s a safe bet, a combination of strawberry, pineapple, and vanilla. “What are you going to have?”

  I always order the same thing. “Lychee and sour apple with a snow cap.”

  “What’s a snow cap?”

  “It’s basically condensed milk poured over the top,” I say.

  “Okay, you’ve talked me into it.”

  We’re almost at the front of the line when his phone beeps. He glances at it and stiffens. All the color leaves his face.

  “It’s my brother,” he says. “I have to get back to the hotel. My parents are here.”

  * * *

  Will’s quiet on the ride back to the Grand Palms. All the excitement has leaked out of him. No more talk of our trip, just Will tapping his fingers against his thigh while I drive, and me trying to think of something to say to break the tension that’s suddenly enveloped us like a fog.

  I pull into the hotel parking lot. I wonder what it means for him that his parents have shown up, unannounced. He’s reacting like it’s the worst news ever. As far as I know, he hasn’t told them that he’s not going to school yet, so this is probably just nerves.