Chapter Eighteen
Faye
Faye focused on the feeling. The air in her lungs.
The energy it gave her. She breathed out, letting the calming voice of Senhor Arenoso guide her through the movements.
She repeated the process one more time, then opened her eyes, the darkness evolving into the earthy space of Senhor Arenoso’s hut.
The light feeling in her chest spread outward, and she sighed.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Good. Really good.”
His moustache lifted as he smiled. “I can sense a real difference in you.”
She wanted to say it was the guided meditation and soul-searching she’d been doing, but surely body-defying orgasms were great at unblocking chakras too?
For two nights in a row, Diana and Faye had spent the evening together, tangled in the sheets and talking until the early morning.
She tried not to mind that Diana would sneak back to her place instead of sleeping over, but lying in bed with the scent of her everywhere kept her awake, thinking, wondering, dreaming.
This is temporary, she reminded herself, trying to stop the fluttering feeling gathering in her heart.
“I can feel the difference,” she replied, hoping he didn’t notice the pause.
He nodded, pushing a fresh glass of water towards her. “You should drink.”
She took a few grateful sips, then let her gaze drift to the sea.
She really did love it here. The soothing lull of the waves, the birds chattering as they ferried overhead, the hot sun warming her skin.
Being on the island was exactly what she needed to get back to her old self—well, better than that, it was exactly what she needed for a new and improved Faye.
One who traded sudoku for socialising. One who felt good in her body and shed the comfort of her bed for new adventures.
That had nothing to do with Diana.
Alright, maybe it did a little bit.
She couldn’t find it in her to mind. Endorphins pumped through her veins, lifting her higher. Mission accomplished—or at least, mission definitely on the right track. How could anyone argue against that?
After saying goodbye to Senhor Arenoso and slipping on Carla’s pineapple sunglasses, she stepped out into the Portuguese sunshine.
The light glistened off the waves as they rolled onto the shore, with people already enjoying the water.
Her skin itched to join them and feel the cool relief herself, but she checked her watch.
She didn’t want to be late for her date.
Flutters gathered in her belly at the thought of seeing Diana.
She picked her head up as she approached the courtyard, the bustling noises filling her ears.
A blended aroma of seafood, garlic, and fresh bread carried on the wind.
The square was covered with various stalls and people browsing the market.
Through the blur of people, she spotted Quin sitting by the reception, scowling at their phone.
They looked up as she approached, quickly tucking their phone into their cargo shorts.
“Hey. Everything alright?” she asked.
“Yeah.” They held out their hand, and Faye pulled them to their feet. “Just my dad.”
“What has he said?”
“Nothing new.”
“Quin.” Her voice softened. “You can talk to me, you know.”
They scratched their head, avoiding her gaze. “He just…doesn’t understand me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He thinks I’m confused. About being non-binary. He doesn’t get it. When he found out about my top surgery…he threatened to disown me. Sandy Springs was kinda my last chance to ‘sort my life out’.”
“Quin, that’s…” She looked at them. Still.
Quiet. Then she pulled them into a big hug, breathing in their woody scent.
When Quin wrapped their arms around her too, she squeezed harder.
“I’m sorry your dad makes you feel bad about yourself.
But you shouldn’t change who you are. Not for anyone.
Not even family. Have you thought about not talking to him while you’re here?
” she suggested. “It seems like whenever you do talk, he puts you in a bad mood. And a break might do you some good.”
They moved out of the way as two young kids skipped past with melting ice-cream cones.
“Thanks, Faye, but we’re trying to meet in the middle. He’s my dad…and it’s one of the agreements to check on my progress. I can’t really get out of it.” Quin sighed, pulling a hand through their Afro. “Anyway, I fancy catching one of Riley’s painting classes, if you want to join?”
Faye filed the conversation for later. “I can’t today. I have plans this afternoon. But I could tomorrow?”
“Mrs Robinson?” They raised their eyebrows. “Hell, yeah. Up top.”
“I’m not high-fiving that.”
“Come on. Don’t leave me hangin’.”
Faye rolled her eyes but slapped her hand against theirs. “You wanna meet up later?”
“Absolutely. Give me all the goss. I want to know everything. And I mean everything.” Their voice softened. “Hey. I don’t suppose you’ve seen Blondie lately, have you?”
“Molly? Diana said she hasn’t been feeling well. Why?”
Quin bit their lip.
“What did you do, Quin?”
“I didn’t want her to get ill. I was just trying to be the best wing-pal ever and might have got carried away.” They ran their fingers through their hair again. “Is she alright? What did she say? Oh god. I didn’t mean to poison her. I don’t want to go to prison.”
Poison her? “Hey, it’s fine.” Faye grasped their shoulder. “She’s just been sick. Diana thinks she caught a bug or something. What happened?”
“I…uh…” They scratched the back of their neck. “I told her the water had healing properties and if she drank it, she wouldn’t wrinkle.”
“Quin!”
“I know. I’m sorry. But it worked, didn’t it? You have another hot date.”
She shook her head, relieved they hadn’t done something more stupid.
“I swear I didn’t know it would make her ill. Although you should’ve seen the way she guzzled it down.”
They both cracked a smile before bursting into laughter. “You’re terrible.”
“Or am I a terrific wing-pal?”
“Maybe a bit of both.”
Quin glanced over Faye’s shoulder, their grin widening, and she turned to find Diana on the other side of the courtyard. Diana looked up from a stall selling handwoven blankets, and their eyes locked, sparks shooting across her skin.
“Don’t let me keep you,” Quin said. “Come find me later.”
They gave Faye a wink and left, heading towards the painting studio.
Diana slinked towards her. The slight breeze tousled her hair, and her silk navy-and-white blouse and shorts combination swayed around her hips.
Her skin held a bronze tint from days in the sunshine, and a pair of oversized square sunglasses covered her eyes.
“You look amazing,” Faye said, openly admiring her.
Diana’s lips pulled up into that signature Diana smile, and Faye’s belly flip-flopped.
The woman was perfection.
“Nice sunglasses,” Diana commented. “Very…fun.”
“Oh, yeah.” Faye tugged them from the top of her head, inspecting the pineapples. “Mine broke the first day here. As soon as I stepped off the plane. So I’m borrowing these.”
Amusement pulled at Diana’s mouth. “Shall we go?”
After purchasing some fresh fruit and a few cakes from the market, they made their way through the throngs of people and headed up the gravel path towards the ruins.
Faye figured she might as well make the most of the time Molly wasn’t around; as much as she loved spending her evenings with Diana, it did feel a little like she was dating a vampire.
Well, not dating, obviously. But whatever this summer fling, impending heartbreak was categorised as. Fuck buddies? Diana was more sophisticated than the term implied, but nothing seemed quite appropriate.
She pushed those thoughts aside and tuned into the present, as she’d practised in Senhor Arenoso’s sessions. The waves crashing in the distance, the soft slap of their feet against the path, and Diana’s intoxicating scent drifting in on the breeze.
Faye snuck a glance at her, admiring her strong cheekbones and pointed chin. Her hair curled in short flicks around her face, one side tucked behind an ear, revealing a collection of gold hoop earrings that caught the sunlight.
“Do you have any other piercings?” Faye asked. She heard the undertone behind her question and scrambled, trying to force the image of intimate piercings out of her head. “I always wanted my belly button pierced when I was younger, but I can’t do that now.”
“Because of your stoma?”
“Yeah. It can cause infection and complications. It’s just not worth the risk.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. There are worse things than not having my navel pierced.” She laughed. “I think it was more to do with Britney’s influence than anything else, anyway.”
Diana chuckled. “I didn’t picture you as a Britney fan.”
“Who isn’t a Britney fan?” They fell into step on the worn trail. “You can’t tell me you don’t sing along to the classics. I can totally see you tearing up ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time’.”
Diana laughed again, and the feeling lifted Faye like she was walking on the clouds. “My singing is certainly not something you want to hear.”
“It is.”
She glanced at her. “Why? It’s awful.”
“I don’t mind. I think it’s a nice thing. Whenever someone sings, they’re happy. It’s like a human phenomenon that slips through without us realising it. At least that’s what my dads say.” She shrugged. “But they’re also hardcore Britney fans, so who knows?”
They rounded a few bushes, which were covered in flowers, their white-and-pink petals turning towards the sun.
“What are your dads like?” Diana asked.
“David’s a history teacher and Lukas is an artist. They drive me crazy, but they’re great.
David might be coming to celebrate the Fire Ceremony at the end of the course.
” Before she could ask if Diana would have anyone joining her, as per the Sandy Springs tradition, a bundle of orange darted across the path.
“Oh my god! Look. It’s a cat.” She fell to her knees, letting out little kisses and chirps.