Episode 27 Celeste
We’re having a camp wedding today.
Due to limited funds and time restraints, a hammock party with Lex and myself is the closest thing Beya’s getting to a bachelorette party. Steph was kind enough to give us the last sliver of leftover cake from yesterday’s cookout as a gift for their engagement.
“How did Arlie propose? Tell me everything.” Lex hangs over the side of the top hammock, two fists resting underneath her chin.
“Don’t let the short hair and tattoos fool you; I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic.
I’m mad I missed the whole thing. I was reading a letter from my wife.
She said our baby is the size of a coconut now. Makes me hate them a little less.”
“She didn’t ask.” Beya runs her fingers through her pink hair, lying in the bottom hammock. I can hear how lovesick she is through her tone. “She demanded.”
Lex takes a swig of water. “Got to love a woman who knows what she wants.”
“If the game has taught me anything, it’s that you never know when someone leaves. I’m not going to miss another day with her not being my camp wife.”
“Sounds like you’re not the only romantic here, Lex,” I tease, recalling Beya gushing over the wooden engagement ring Arlie made her.
Beya leans back, placing both hands behind her head peering at the clouds, as if she’s dreaming. “I’m just a princess in boy clothes.”
The last thing I expected while participating on a reality TV competition show was to become someone’s Best Woman at their fake wedding. Thankfully the weather is perfect for two women getting married on the beach this afternoon. We climb out of our hammocks and get ready for Beya’s big day.
Before heading down to the shore, we rationed the last drops of the tiny body soap bottle, treating a basic rinse like a luxury spa day just so we wouldn’t smell like campfire and sweat for the brides. I have my cleanest shirt option on, which isn’t saying much.
Of all of us, Arlie and Beya somehow look the best. In the right angle of the sun’s glow, beautiful even.
Arlie’s wearing her black leather jacket over her bikini, boots, and a woven crown with island flowers Saffron and Paya made for her.
Beya’s cats against anxiety T-shirt sits under a black blazer, paired with scuffed cargo pants that have turned a new shade entirely from the weather and dirt stains.
Around her neck is the woven palm frond bow tie I made for her this morning.
My Best Woman gift on a budget. The bright smile she’s wearing makes the whole thing worth the effort.
Once we gather on the sand, Lex takes her place at the front, the crystal clear water behind her.
“Welcome everyone. I see you wore your Sunday’s best. I’m sure Arlie and Beya appreciate that.” Lex officiates, her most studious facial expression on display, which no one is taking seriously. She pretends to flip a page of her make believe notebook.
“We are gathered here today to unite two amazing women from Team Sapphic in camp matrimony,” Lex’s voice carries over the ocean waves. “In sickness and in health. Through starvation and medical clearances. Until a blindside do you part.”
Laughter echoes through our small group. Arlie steps forward and takes Beya’s hands. She slides the handmade wooden band onto Beya’s finger. The vows are short and sweet.
Lex lowers her imaginary notebook in her hands and looks between the two brides. “Do you both promise to persist through trips to Exile Isle, prevail even when production refuses to give us seasoning and—”
“Plot twist our way through any blindsides?” Beya chimes in.
“That’s right.” Lex smiles.
Arlie and Beya nod in agreement and say I do, their fingers interlaced.
“Lovely,” Lex says, raising her hands to the sky. She increases her volume as if she were giving an actual sermon. “By the power vested in me by Steph Rhodes, this gorgeous damned island, and our future therapy bills…I pronounce you wife and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
Beya places both hands gently on her camp wife’s cheeks and leans in to kiss her. We all clap, cheering loud enough for the whole island to hear. Today’s the happiest I’ve seen Arlie. I can sense the camera crew panning around us, capturing this ridiculously cute moment.
To my right, Paya catches me glance at her for the third time, and a soft smile forms on her lips. When her gentle fingers casually bump into mine, my heart skips a beat. I intertwine our fingers. I don’t want to ever let go.
As the sun makes its descent, all talks of strategy, paranoia and scrambling disappear.
We sit around the fire, giggling over stories from our adventures since day one on the island.
When it’s time to cut the cake, Arlie uses the pairing knife with surgical precision, dividing the stale dessert into six tiny pieces.
We eat them off our fingertips like it’s a five star meal.
It’s the closest thing to real wedding food I’ve had in months, so I savor every crumb.
Suddenly, Lex shouts as if there’s one hundred people here, instead of six of us. “Let’s dance!”
* * *
“May I have this dance?” Paya reaches her hand out to me from where I’m sitting by the fire.
I take her hand in mine, the heat of her skin sending a sudden jolt straight up my arm.
I let her lead to the firmest spot of sand a few yards away.
We’re secluded from the others. The sun sinks close to the water behind us, its deep shades of orange, crimson and violet stretches over the horizon.
I’ll never get tired of watching the sunset or the way Paya glows in them.
Lex’s distant, off key singing fades into the background as Paya steps into my space. She places a hand on my shoulder, her touch light but grounding.
I glance around us, noticing the small details scattered around the edge of the beach.
There’s wooden trinkets next to the seats and royal blue hibiscus and tangerine colored plumeria flowers peppered on the ground.
“Love what you did with the place. You and Saffron really put your all into the decorations.”
“Believe it or not, Arlie is quite the bridezilla,” Paya murmurs, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
I turn my head, eyes big as if she just spilled the hottest gossip on the cover page. “I can’t imagine.”
“Cluck was the perfect flower boy, despite discourse amongst the parents,” she adds, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Saffron’s very proud.”
That makes me laugh. “As she should be.”
We sway together, our movements slow, unbothered by the lack of music. I pull her closer, engulfed in her body heat. “This is nice. It’s almost hard to believe we are all still competing against each other.”
“Don’t remind me.” Paya rests her head against my chest for a brief moment before sighing softly. “Is it weird that I don’t want to leave, or is that the island’s twisted charm talking?”
“I think there’s a term for that,” I tease. I can’t help but smile when she giggles into me.
She leans back slightly and peers deep into my soul. The playful look in her eyes transforms into something darker.
My hands glide down her sides, mapping the warm skin of her waist. I look past her shoulder toward the tree line, scanning the shadows. The camera people are nowhere to be found. Why do they keep leaving all of a sudden?
Paya notices I’m distracted. Taking her pointer finger, she slowly rotates my chin until she has my full attention again. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something.” She shifts her stance, her gaze dropping for a split second. “I’m not sure how you’ll take the news.”
Curious, I pull my brows together. What could she possibly tell me that would change anything between us?
Before I can spiral, the serious look on her face melts into a mischievous grin. She takes my hand again, pulling me gently toward a secluded path past Cluck’s coup. “Come with me.”
We push through a heavy curtain of palm fronds, stepping into a tiny, hidden clearing completely cut off from the rest of the island.
Laid out on a large blanket, there’s a banana leaf in the center.
My jaw drops at the sight of roasted bananas split down the middle and a neat pile of charred, gooey dates on top.
“What’s this?” I ask, the tension leaving my body, replaced by curiosity as I follow her into the dark privacy of the jungle.
“I don’t know how else to say this.” She wraps her arms around my waist and pecks my lips. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Celeste.”