The Best Week That Never Happened

by Dallas Woodburn

  “You deserve to be there,” I say. My voice is quiet, but my tone is fierce. “This is your exhibition too. This is your artwork. This is a big deal. You deserve to be celebrated, Kai.”

  He looks down at his lap, fiddling with his keys. Silence settles into the space between us. Is he upset with me? Have I stepped out of bounds?

  “It’s really good to have you here, Tegan,” he says finally. His voice is like sandpaper. He clears his throat. “I forgot what it was like to have someone on my side, fighting for me.”

  The moment seems delicate, like any wrong move can shatter it. I reach across the center console and quietly hold his hand. I rub my thumb against his, hoping touch can convey what I’m feeling right now: tenderness and regret, sadness and comfort. I’m so relieved to be here with Kai—to finally be together like this—but at the same time, I ache to think of the struggles he’s been going through lately, without me. I wasn’t there for him when he needed me. And I can’t go back in time and change that. I can’t undo our argument. All I can do is try to be here for him from now on.

  “I’ll always fight for you,” I say. “And never forget—you’re a fighter too.”

  Kai gives me a little smile. He turns the keys in the ignition, and we pull back out onto the road.

  “So tell me about this exhibition piece,” I say, talking loudly over the breeze flapping through the open windows.

  “It’s a wood carving,” Kai says.

  “Cool. What’s it about?”

  Kai winks, back to his usual self. “That part is a surprise. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Wait and see. Happiness bubbles up inside me. Although the stubborn part of Kai doesn’t want to admit I changed his mind, we’re definitely going to the art exhibition on Thursday.

  “So Tegan, how are you enjoying island life so far?” Kai’s dad asks.

  “I love it here! It’s so beautiful, and peaceful, and relaxing … I wish I could stay forever!” As the words leave my mouth, I hear how they might sound to people who are letting me crash in their home, and I hurry to add, “Not that I actually will be staying forever; don’t worry.”

  “You are welcome in our home as long as you like, sweetheart,” Kai’s mom says, passing the basket of warm rolls around the table. She has made a feast of grilled fish and vegetables, fresh pineapple, poi, and baked sweet potatoes. Even though Kai and I devoured shave ice just a couple of hours ago, the smell of dinner makes my stomach growl. As each dish is passed around, I fill my plate.

  I am grateful to be sitting at this crowded dinner table, welcomed as part of this beautifully chaotic family. Growing up, I always wished for siblings, and the wish only intensified after my parents’ divorce. To have a brother or sister to share everything with—rolling our eyes at Dad’s series of girlfriends, binge-watching Netflix when Mom works late—to laugh together and cry together and understand each other, like no one else truly could. My whole life, I’ve yearned for a family like this one. I would gladly settle for even one more filled seat at the small dining table in my mom’s kitchen. Kai doesn’t realize how lucky he is.

  Paulo looks at me with wide, excited eyes, like I’m a celebrity. His behavior toward me oscillates between adorable shyness and friendly openness. “How long is Tegan staying?” he asks.

  “Until Sunday,” I say. I have no idea where that answer comes from. It’s not like I have a return plane ticket, even though I’ve scoured my email a hundred times. Weirdly, I haven’t received any new emails since I arrived in Hawaii, not even spam. When we got home this afternoon, I tried calling my mom again—four separate times—but all I heard was that same hollow ringing. Not even the chance to leave a message asking her to call me back. Her work number gave me the same result. I don’t know what is going on. If this keeps up, I’m going to have to tell Kai the truth soon.

  Paulo frowns, digging a fork through his poi. “I don’t want her to leave.”

  Kai reaches over and ruffles Paulo’s hair. “I know, buddy. Me neither.”

  Mrs. Kapule lifts the basket of rolls to pass around the table again. “But she won’t be gone forever. You’ll come back to visit again, right Tegan?”

  I smile with a lump in my throat. “Yes, of course I will.”

  After dinner, I try calling my parents again—no answer—while Kai and his siblings wash the dishes. Then we all pile into the family room to watch a movie. All except Theo, who tells his parents he’s going to a friend’s house. He and Kai exchange a look, but I can’t tell what’s behind it. Paulo has saved me a seat on the amazingly comfortable couch, the kind your body sinks into so it’s impossible to get back up. Olina, clearly an equal member of the family, is wedged beside him, her large head resting comfortably on the couch arm. Kai sits on my other side, and his parents take the love seat. The movie’s just started when Theo waves goodbye and heads out, the door banging shut behind him. Kai sighs.

  “You okay?” I murmur.

  “Yeah. I’m gonna get some juice. You want anything from the kitchen?”

  I can’t move—don’t want to move—because Paulo is cuddled up against me.

  “Juice would be great, thanks!” I’m usually not much of a juice drinker, but I can’t get enough of the flavors here. Pineapple, guava, passion fruit. Kai likes to mix them all together.

  One tall glass of juice, one pee break, and two hours later, the movie has ended, and Paulo has fallen asleep against my shoulder. His mom gently wakes him up and leads him off to bed. We say goodnight to Kai’s dad. Olina is stretched out on the rug, snoring, her legs twitching as she chases after seagulls in her dreams. Theo hasn’t arrived home yet. Kai glances at the front door before he turns off the lamp in the family room.

  Once we’re safely in his bedroom with the door closed, I ask him point-blank. “Are you worried about Theo?”

  Kai runs a hand down his face. “I don’t like the people he’s hanging out with. Theo’s just a kid, but some of those guys are dealing drugs, like, seriously. I keep telling Theo that a little extra pocket money isn’t worth the risk. But he won’t listen.”

  “Do your parents know?”

  He shakes his head. “They have no idea. Telling them would be breaking Theo’s trust in me. I keep hoping he’ll decide on his own to stop.”

  “You should tell your parents, Kai.”

  “You think so?” His eyes search mine.

  My opinion matters to him. “I do. Theo might be angry with you initially, but in the long run, he’ll thank you.”

  Kai sighs. “You’re probably right.” He looks at his closed bedroom door, as if expecting Theo to burst in at any moment. “But I don’t want to set off a bomb of family drama when you’re here. How about I give Theo the rest of the week to get his act together, and if he doesn’t, then I’ll tell my parents?”

  I sit on the bed. “That sounds like a good plan.”

  I expect Kai to sit next to me, but he remains standing. He shifts from one foot to the other. “So, um, I’m gonna grab a pillow, and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He gestures to the door. “You can take my bed, and I’ll, um, crash on the couch.”

  Oh. After last night, I wasn’t expecting this. “You don’t have to do that, Kai.”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Do your parents want us sleeping in separate rooms?”

  He chuckles. “No, they don’t care. When I turned eighteen, they sat me down and explained that I’m an adult now, and I get to make my own choices. They pretty much let me do what I want. Plus, they like you.”

  “I like them too.” I pick at a loose thread on my shorts. “So, um, are you saying that you want to sleep on the couch? If anyone sleeps on the couch, it should be me. I’m the one who showed up here unannounced.”

  “No! You are not sleeping on the couch. I mean, I’m fine sleeping there. I want you to have my bed for yourself if that’s, y
ou know, what you want. Your own space. Some privacy. I totally understand … ”

  He is so adorably flustered that I can’t even bring myself to tease him. I stand up, pull him toward me, and kiss his lips.

  “I was hoping you’d stay here with me,” I whisper.

  Kai’s face relaxes. “Really? I mean, I didn’t want to assume … there is no pressure to, like, do anything … ”

  I interrupt his words with kisses. Soon our breathing becomes more urgent, and he’s tugging off my sweater. His hands feel so good on my bare skin, and his lips electrify me. I can imagine going all the way with him—I want to; my body wants to—but I don’t feel ready. Not yet. I force myself to pull back.

  His hair is rumpled, and his cheeks are pink. “You all right?” he asks, concern in his eyes.

  I nod. “Is it okay if we just … make out? And cuddle?” I feel lame, but Kai smiles and says, “Of course!” and I know it’s the right thing because relief washes through me. We change into our pajamas, dropping our eyes away from each other for privacy. Then we crawl under the covers. Our bodies face each other like two halves of the same whole.

  “I’ve never slept with anyone before,” Kai says softly.

  “Do you mean, slept together in the same bed? Or … had sex?”

  “I mean both. Er, neither. I’ve done neither.”

  This new knowledge nestles within me. So we weren’t keeping anything from each other. I do know him. Has he been waiting for me, like I’ve been secretly waiting for him all this time?

  “Me too,” I say. “Er, me neither. Unless you factor in slumber parties with Andrea where we slept in the same bed. But that doesn’t really count.”

  Kai grins. “So, you and Andrea, huh? Tell me more.”

  I hit him with my pillow.

  He laughs. Then his face grows serious. His dark eyes find mine and hold my gaze. “Listen, T. You know how I feel about you. In my opinion you are the sexiest, most beautiful girl on this planet. But I am perfectly content just hanging out with you—even just being in the same room with you. Anything else is a bonus. There is no pressure, ever, from me. All right?”

  “I know,” I tell him. “But thank you for saying it.”

  We lie there in silence, looking at each other. Our bent knees touch. My fingers are cold, and Kai cups them in his hands, warming them beneath the blankets.

  I scoot toward him, even though we can’t really get much closer. “You’re the best; did you know that?”

  In response, he kisses me—sweetly, gently. We kiss for a while longer, until my lips are numb, and my eyelids droop. Then Kai turns out the bedside lamp. I shift onto my other side, and he wraps his arms around me, spooning me, and it feels natural. Normal. As I drift off to sleep, the word echoing through my mind is safe.

  I never realized that falling in love could feel so effortlessly, completely safe.

  dear tegan,

  i don’t even know what to say. i don’t know why i’m writing this, because you won’t ever read it. maybe there’s some part of me that still thinks you will. i can’t believe it, t. it’s not real. you’re not really gone. you can’t be.

  i had another dream about you last night. that’s three times in a row, if you’re keeping track. we went snorkeling and saw that same sea turtle from all those years ago. we tried to follow him, but then we got distracted … the best kind of distracted, if you know what i mean. god, i’m too chicken to type the words even though i know you’re never going to read this. i can’t believe the only chance i’ll ever have to kiss you will be in my dreams. my idiotic, yearning, hopeless dreams.

  when i woke up this morning, the dream was so real in my mind i could swear it actually happened, and you still hadn’t replied to my emails. so i caved in and looked at your Instagram, which as a rule i never do because i don’t like to feed the jealous part of myself. i don’t like to click through photos of you with other guys, driving myself crazy wondering if you’re hooking up with them or not. i don’t like spending twenty minutes typing and deleting, typing and deleting, trying to decide if i should attempt to write some witty banter or inside joke as a comment, or if it would just look like i’m trying too hard. ever since that night on the phone—you know the one i mean—ever since then, i never wanted to seem like i care too much and scare you away.

  but when i clicked onto your profile, my heart stopped. all these comments from people saying how much they loved you and how much they would miss you and what an amazing person you were. were, past tense.

  you can’t be in the past tense, tegan. you just can’t. you’re the most real person out of everyone i’ve ever met.

  you know what i realized in my dream last night? the whole point all those years ago wasn’t to follow the sea turtle all the way around the world. no, the point of it was simply to be swimming by your side. to be heading somewhere, you and me, together.

  maybe i should join you, wherever you are now.

  —kai

  PART TWO

  WEDNESDAY

  A gentle rocking motion. The mundane chatter of voices. Out the window, a blur of tree branches. The sensation of moving very fast. Speed building and building. Out of control. Suddenly, jerking sideways. Slamming into something hard. A sharp intake of breath. A scream lodged in a throat.

  I jolt awake. My vision is blurry again, and it takes longer than it did yesterday for my surroundings to solidify into focus. I blink into the bright morning light streaming through Kai’s bedroom curtains. Yawning, I rub my eyes and turn around in the sheets. The bed is empty. Cozy breakfast smells waft in from the kitchen.

  I pull on one of Kai’s sweatshirts, breathing in his scent. Thinking about last night makes my whole body glow. Me and Kai. Kai and me. I can’t believe it’s really happening. And I also can’t believe it took us so long.

  I brush my teeth, wash my face, and pad into the kitchen. Kai is at the stove, his back to me. The countertops are stacked with dirty dishes—from his family’s breakfast this morning, I assume. The clock on the wall reads 9:23.

  “Good morning.” I slip onto one of the barstools.

  “Hey,” Kai says, a smile in his voice. “Give me one sec. I want to make sure these babies don’t burn.”

  “What are you making?”

  “Macadamia nut pancakes.”

  “Wow! Like they serve at the resort!” When I was a kid, I ate so many macadamia nut pancakes that I got a stomachache. But I didn’t care—I ordered the same thing the next day when my parents and I went down to breakfast.

  Kai flips a pancake; it sizzles when it hits the pan. “Well, keep your expectations low. Mine aren’t as fancy as those. I’m not exactly a five-star chef.”

  “I’m still impressed. These smell like heaven.”

  He turns off the burner and spatulas the final pancake onto a plate stacked high. He slides it onto the counter in front of me. “Chef Kai, at your service.”

  I love getting to see his adorable bed head and his plaid pajama bottoms. I love getting to fall asleep beside him at night and eat breakfast with him in the morning. I love getting to play house like this—no school, no worries, no chores. Just summer, sunshine, and each other. Shyly, I hook my leg around his and draw him closer. He grins and buries his fingers in my hair. He tastes like Kona coffee.

  Eventually, my stomach grumbles, and Kai laughs and pulls away. “Let’s get you fed,” he says, reaching into cabinets and drawers for clean plates and silverware. He rummages in the pantry. “I know we have syrup in here somewhere … aha!” He holds the bottle aloft like a trophy and plunks it down on the counter next to the pancakes.

  “Wait a minute … you don’t have homemade coconut syrup?” I tease. “At the resort they always served them with homemade coconut syrup.”

  “What the heck is homemade coconut syrup?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s delicious.”

  “Well, Rossi, regular syrup is all we got here at Kai’s Panc
ake Kitchen Café.”

  I divvy up the pancakes onto two plates. “Wait—is it Pancake Kitchen or Pancake Café?”

  “It’s both.”

  “How can it be both?”

  “Two is better than one.”

  I sigh dramatically and pick up the slightly sticky syrup bottle. “I guess this will have to do, then.”

  Kai playfully pinches my side, and I lean into him, kissing his neck. I grab my phone and take a selfie of us—I want to try sending a picture to Andrea—and then snap a photo of my syrup-drenched stack of pancakes.

  “Does the Wi-Fi act up for you sometimes?” I ask, opening Instagram.

  “Not really,” Kai says. “Did I give you the password?”

  “Yeah. Maybe it’s an issue with my phone.” I try to post the pancake photo, but all I get is a frozen screen.

  As I stare at the screen, my vision blurs. When I blink, there’s a new photo on my Instagram profile. It’s me, beaming, holding a suitcase and standing in front of a train. The caption reads, Philly –> DC <3 Georgetown, here I come! It was posted on Monday. As in, two days ago.

  Wait … that’s not possible. Three days ago, I woke up here. In Hawaii. My heart races, and my stomach heaves. My body knows something. All of a sudden, I remember my dream from last night—such a vivid dream.

  I told Kai that I didn’t have time to visit him in Hawaii after all. Instead, I chose to head down to campus a couple of months before the semester began so I could move into my new apartment and take summer courses and find a job and and and …

  I was filled with excuses and fear. So I took the easy path. College was my convenient pretext to run away from him. From us. I told myself that I didn’t have room in my life for complications; I had to focus on my future. I couldn’t get caught up in that long-ago idyllic summer. Summer doesn’t last.