That makes it sound like I was indeed coming to visit him in Hawaii. Okay. So that must be the answer. I came to visit Kai after graduation like we planned. I try to shrug off my worries, but questions remain: Why can’t I remember the past few weeks? Why can’t I find any evidence of my flight to Hawaii? Why was Kai surprised to see me?
I pull off my dirty shirt and shorts and rummage in my toiletry bag for shampoo and conditioner. In the mirror, I study my new tattoo. Why did I get an hourglass? The image has zero personal meaning to me. Maybe it’s a temporary tattoo? I turn the shower to Hot and grab a towel from the folded stack under the sink. Stepping under the warm waterfall feels like renewal. I envision all my anxious questions falling away with the water and swirling down the drain. You’re with Kai, I remind myself. You’re in Hawaii. Enjoy it. There must be some explanation for everything. You’ll talk to Mom soon. I scrub vigorously at the hourglass tattoo, but the ink doesn’t fade.
Twenty minutes later, I’ve towel-dried my hair, brushed my teeth, and slipped on the red sundress. It fits perfectly, hugging my curves in all the right places. Lifting up my hair, I put my puka shell necklace back on. I lean into the mirror and swipe on eye shadow and mascara. Then, I step back and look at myself. I feel more beautiful than I have in a long time. My eyes shine. My hair is damp and wavy and loose. I am … me, at my purest essence. I open the bathroom door and step out, pulling the floral suitcase behind me.
Kai is stretched out on the bed, reading. Olina is curled up at his feet. They both glance up when I come in. Kai’s eyes widen.
“Wow,” he says. “You look … wow.”
I blush. “Thanks.”
“Hey, how did your suitcase get here?”
“Someone from the airport must have dropped it off. My purse was inside!” Which doesn’t actually answer his question—How did someone from the airport get the suitcase inside the bathroom?—but Kai doesn’t seem to notice. He looks stunned.
He shakes his head. “That dress … man.”
I wedge my suitcase into a corner of the room, where it will be out of the way. “Well, you said we’re going out to dinner. I wanted to look nice.”
“You look more than nice. You upped the game, T. I better go change.”
“You don’t have to do that!”
He runs a hand through his hair, grinning. “Naw, I was going to anyway. I’ll take a quick shower, then we’ll be off. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
He gets up from the bed, and, for a moment, it seems like he’s going to come over to me. But then he gives a little wave and disappears into the bathroom.
I put on Mom’s gray sweater and the yellow sandals and wander over to Kai’s bookcase. His shelves hold a wide mix of literature: To Kill a Mockingbird. Strawberries in Wintertime. The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake. Chronicles of a Death Foretold. There are also surfing trophies and a carved wooden box. Did Kai carve this? A crisscross pattern covers the lid, with flowers adorning the corners. Along the sides creep ornate vines. My fingers itch to open the box, but of course I don’t. I’m not that much of a snoop.
Framed photographs are displayed on his bookshelves. One of him, Theo, and a small boy I’m assuming is Paulo. They are smiling proudly and holding up three large fish; Paulo’s is the biggest. Another photo features a group of young people—Kai’s friends from school. It’s a beach shot, and everyone is wearing swimsuits. I pick out Kai in the back, laughing. And there, in the front, is the girl I bumped into earlier. The girl with the flyers for the art show. Suddenly, I remember why she was familiar: she was Kai’s prom date. He sent me a couple of photos, after I bugged him about it a million times. He insisted they went as friends, but they sure looked cozy in the pictures. She’s really pretty. Nadia. I think that’s her name.
Stepping back from the bookshelf, my stomach sinks in disappointment. I was hoping there would be a photo of us. Which is silly—we don’t have any photos together. Well, except for the one I found of us as kids that I mailed to him last year. But that one was a little blurry and off-center, taken by a disposable camera my mom bought for the trip. It’s not really the kind of photo you frame and display. Besides, I don’t need some framed photograph as proof of Kai’s friendship. I know how much he cares about me.
I sit down on the bed. The shower has stopped running; Kai will be out soon. My stomach grumbles. Olina flops onto her side, and I stroke her soft belly.
On the nightstand, there’s another photo frame—only this one is facedown. Maybe it fell over? Tentatively, I lift up its face.
A photo of me. I’m looking away from the camera, laughing at something my friend Mel said. Andrea had snapped the photo—she was in her photography phase at the time, taking photos constantly with the fancy camera her parents bought her for her birthday. I’ve always liked this photo of myself. Sometimes in posed photos I look guarded, the edges of my smile too tight. In this photo, my walls are down.
Kai keeps this photo of me on his nightstand? That means he sees my face every night, right before he goes to sleep, and every morning when he first wakes up. My heart soars. But in the next breath, it deflates. Why did Kai have my photo facedown? I know the possibility is slim that the frame fell over by accident. He must have purposely laid it facedown. He did not want to see me. Our fight must have been a big one, whatever it was about.
Carefully, I place the photo back where I found it, glass kissing the wood surface of the nightstand. A few moments later, the bathroom door opens, and Kai emerges, wearing khaki slacks and a button-down dark-gray shirt. His floppy hair is slicked back, and his stubble is clean-shaven. He looks so handsome.
I clamber up from the bed. “You clean up nice,” I say, attempting lightness. But I wonder if he can tell from my expression that he is lightning, and I’ve been struck.
“Thanks,” he says, grabbing his wallet and keys from the dresser. “Are you ready? Let’s try to sneak out before my mom gets home.”
“Are you trying to hide me from your parents?”
“No, exactly the opposite—I’m trying to hide them from you. Once everyone gets home, this place becomes a madhouse.”
As he opens his bedroom door, there’s a rumbling mechanical sound, and he freezes. “Shit. The garage. They’re home.”
The door to the garage bangs open, and a boy emerges in soccer gear, running down the hallway toward us. His face lights up when he sees Kai. “Guess what! Guess what!” he exclaims.
“Hey, little man.” Kai tousles his hair. “You’re sweaty.”
“Guess what!”
“What?”
“I scored a goal! In the scrimmage!”
Kai throws his hands up into the air. “gooooaaaallll!!” he shouts.
The boy laughs, his eyes crinkling shut. It’s like seeing Kai as a little kid again. When the boy stops laughing, he notices me hovering in the doorway to Kai’s room. “Who are you?” he asks.
“Paulo, this is my friend Tegan. Remember? I told you about her.”
“You live on the mainland?” Paulo asks me, in the tone you might use to ask someone if they live on the moon.
“Yep. But I love Hawaii. You guys are pretty lucky to live here, huh? It’s paradise.”
Paulo beams as if I have paid him a big compliment. “That’s what Kai always says. Hawaii would be total paradise if only—”
“Hey, little man,” Kai interrupts. “Why don’t you introduce yourself to Tegan the way I taught you?”
Paulo’s expression becomes serious. He holds out his hand. “Hello, my name is Paulo. What is your name?” He speaks slowly, overenunciating each word.
“I’m Tegan,” I say, placing my hand in his. His palm is slightly sticky.
He pumps my arm vigorously. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”
“Great job, Paulo!” Kai says, grinning. “That was very professional.”
The garage do
or bangs open again, and a round-faced, pretty woman comes in. “Boys! Come out here and help me carry in these groceries!”
“Mom!” Paulo shouts. “Should Tegan help too?”
Their mother stops, peering down the hallway at us. “Tegan? Kai’s Tegan?”
I smile weakly and give a little wave. Is she going to be upset? I mean, what kind of person visits unannounced like this? Maybe Kai’s parents won’t want me to stay here. Maybe they’ll say they don’t have room for me. Then what will I do?
But as Kai’s mother moves toward us, her face breaks into a broader and broader smile. She drops her bags of groceries onto the carpet, stepping past Olina, and pulls me in for a hug. Her skin is soft, and she smells like jasmine. “My goodness, the last time I saw you, you were a little slip of a thing.” She pulls back and studies my face. “Now look at you. An absolutely gorgeous young lady.”
I blush. “Thank you. It’s so nice to see you, Mrs. Kapule. I’m sorry for dropping in like this—”
She waves away my words. “Please, call me Lana. You are always welcome here, my dear. Anytime at all. Whether Kai is here or not.” She gives him a meaningful look.
What was that about? I try to meet his eyes, but he is studying the carpet.
Mrs. Kapule picks up one of the grocery bags. “Tegan, can you carry that other bag for me? Thanks, dear. Boys, go out to the car and bring in the rest of the groceries, please! I’m making a feast tonight, now that we have a special guest with us.”
Kai runs a hand over his face. “Mom, you know how much I love your cooking, but Tegan and I are going out to dinner tonight. I’ve already made reservations.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Reservations, huh? Someone’s getting fancy.” She leans in close to my ear and whispers loudly, “He’s never made reservations for anyone before.”
“Is that so?” Now I raise my eyebrows at Kai.
Mrs. Kapule picks up one of the grocery bags; I grab the other. “I’m taking Tegan into the kitchen to help me unload these groceries,” she says, a twinkle in her eye. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t interfere with your reservations.”
“Don’t get sucked in, Tegan! Don’t get sucked in!” Kai says, as Paulo pulls him off to the garage.
I shrug in a teasingly helpless gesture before following Mrs. Kapule into the kitchen.
“How are your parents doing?” she asks, opening the fridge and unloading vegetables into the crisper.
“They’re fine. They, um, got divorced? A couple years ago? So I live with my mom now. But I still see my dad pretty often.” I remove cans and boxes from the grocery bag and stack them on the counter.
Mrs. Kapule straightens up and pushes a wisp of hair out of her eyes. She looks at me with care and concern, but I don’t see pity in her expression. Pity is what most adults give me when they learn about the divorce. I don’t like pity.
“That must have been tough,” she says simply.
Usually, I don’t like talking about the divorce. But for some reason, I want to confide in Mrs. Kapule. “Yeah. I mean, they were fighting a lot, so in a way it was a relief. But I was also really sad when they told me. It’s complicated, I guess.”
She nods. “Life is complicated, huh? Sometimes I wish it came with an instruction manual.”
I laugh. “Yeah. Me too.”
“Well, I only met your parents a few times, but one thing that was very clear about them was how much they love you.”
I’m surprised to feel tears pricking my eyes. I look down, swallowing, tracing the lines of grout on the tile countertop. “Thanks.”
“It’s the truth. And I need to thank you for coming to visit Kai. I’m sure you’ve been able to tell that he’s been having a hard time lately. It means a lot that you traveled all the way here to cheer him up.”
Kai, having a hard time? Is this related to our fight—or something bigger?
I’m about to ask her more, but Kai and Paulo burst into the kitchen. Paulo is carrying one grocery bag; Kai swings two in each hand. He settles all the bags onto the counter, then links his arm through mine.
“Okay, Mom, your groceries are here! Now, I hate to run, but I must sweep this charming lady off immediately so we aren’t late for our very important dinner reservations.”
Mrs. Kapule smiles. “Where are you taking her?”
“The hottest place in town.”
“Pulling out the big guns, eh?”
“Where is it?” Paulo asks, jumping up and down. “Where are you guys going? Are you going to get shave ice?”
Kai laughs. “Maybe we’ll get shave ice tomorrow.”
“But shave ice is the best!”
“That’s true, buddy. I should’ve had you plan this date, huh?”
Date. Is that what this is? A date with Kai? Do I want it to be?
The same thoughts must flash through Kai’s mind because he quickly shifts gears, releasing my arm and bending down to Paulo’s height. “Right now I can’t tell you where the restaurant is, because it’s a surprise for Tegan. But I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay? You’ve been there before.”
“I have?”
“Yep. I think you’ll approve. Now, we’ve got to go!” He straightens up and looks at me. “Ready, T?”
I smooth my hands over my dress. It seems like the question is about more than just dinner. Ready or not, I’m here, with Kai, in Hawaii, and this moment has arrived. Here I stand, on the cusp. I can either retreat—run away, give in to fear, and hide—or I can lean into all of the uncertainty and complexity of right here, right now. Life is complicated, Mrs. Kapule had said.
“Yep.” I smile at Kai and slip my arm through his. “I’m ready.”
It is immediately apparent where The Blue Oasis got its name: the entire building is painted a vibrant sky blue. I’m expecting a quirky, laid-back place with a beachy island atmosphere. Kai gives the hostess his name, and she leads us inside, and immediately my perspective shifts. Inside the restaurant, it does feel like … an oasis. A fancy oasis. White tablecloths, stylish silverware, bright floral centerpieces. Twinkling lights are strung on the walls, and tea candles flicker around the room. The ceiling is painted to look like a night sky, and one entire wall of the restaurant is open to a patio area, where there is a makeshift wooden stage.
“Wow,” I murmur to Kai as we sit down. The hostess hands us menus and flits away. “This place is incredible.”
Kai smiles at me across the table. “I’ve always wanted to take you here. Just wait till you try their food!”
I’m poring over the menu, trying to decide between the pulled-pork tacos and the “living salad”—What does that mean?—when Kai says, “Hey, man,” and I notice something off in his voice. On edge. I look up, and a guy around our age is standing there with a water pitcher. His dark hair is pulled back into a short ponytail, and he has a stud earring in one ear.
“Welcome to The Blue Oasis,” he says in an exaggerated monotone, reaching over to fill our glasses with water. The pitcher sloshes, and ice spills onto the tablecloth. “Whoops. Sorrrry,” the guy says. His tone makes clear it was no accident.
“So, is this her?” he asks Kai, smirking at me.
Kai clears his throat. “Tegan, this is R.J.; R.J., meet Tegan. She’s visiting for the week.”
R.J. leans close to Kai’s ear, but his whisper is loud enough for me to hear: “Doesn’t look like she’s worth it, to me.” Then he darts away, heading across the room to another table.
My cheeks burn. “What was that about?” I murmur.
“I’m sorry. He’s an asshole. It was nothing.” Kai rubs his thumb against the tablecloth. “Just dumb high school stuff. People stirring up drama. You know how it is.”
No, I don’t, not really. I always stayed the hell away from all that. When I smelled a whiff of drama, I fled in the other direction. That’s part of why I’ve never come down here to visit before.
Kai forces a smile, his tone abruptly cheerf
ul. “But hey, none of that matters anymore. High school is behind us! Cheers to that, right?” He lifts his water glass.
I raise my water glass and clink it against his. After a moment, I say, “Kai, I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“Our big fight. I know I did something that upset you. But I can’t remember any of the details.”
His brow furrows in concern. “I thought your memory came back.”
“Oh. Um, some of it did. But I still can’t remember our fight.”
He waves my words away. “It’s not important now.”
“I’m glad—I mean, I’m grateful that we’ve moved past it. But still, will you tell me what we fought about? Maybe it will help me remember.”
Kai fiddles with his fork. “So the last time you remember us talking is when you promised to come visit me after graduation?”
I nod.
“Well, about a week later, you backed out. You decided to head down to Georgetown early to take summer classes instead. You wouldn’t even consider the possibility of doing both. And I—I probably overreacted. I was just so disappointed, T. You laughed like it had been a joke, like it wasn’t even a big deal, but your trip was a big deal to me.” Pain washes over his face. “It seemed like you didn’t even care about me at all.”
Wow. I really hurt him.
“And we haven’t talked for the past month?” I ask softly.
He shakes his head. “Whenever you called, I would let it go to voice mail. I didn’t answer your emails or texts. I needed some time and space to decompress. Like I said before, I was overreacting. I’m sorry.”
I reach across the table and touch his hand. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I can’t believe I bailed on you like that. And of course I care about you. More than you know.”
He smiles, his thumb brushing mine. “It’s okay. None of it matters now. You came to visit after all! Best surprise of my life.”
The waiter comes to take our order. Kai chooses the pulled-pork tacos, promising I can try some, so I order the living salad. The waiter seems pleased. “Very good, very good!” he says, tucking his pen back behind his ear. Then he whisks off, and we’re alone, and now that my big apology is out of the way, I cannot think of a single thing to say.
The Best Week That Never Happened Page 6