Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Yosh
By the time we leave the beach, my mood starts to change. Not because anything went wrong, but because nothing did. It was good. Too good.
Which is exactly why my brain decides to ruin it.
Why do I always do this? Why do I always go straight to the buts, the ifs, and the whens the second happiness gets too close?
Today, I’d almost touched something like euphoria.
I’d felt the freedom of the open sea, the rawness of nature under my feet. And the best part? Every time I looked over, he was right there, feeling it too.
Tom had surprised me, I have to admit. I’d prepared myself to give him a little Surfing 101, but then he rode that wave like a pro. Wild, but balanced under the shimmer of the midday sun. It was beautiful.
Now, as a perfect day like this comes to an end, I can’t stop thinking that we—our friendship, or maybe even something more— might end the moment he steps onto that plane and flies back to his life halfway across the world.
And he’ll walk away with my heart, because I’m starting to believe it’s his to take.
“Yosh.”
Tom’s voice hits my ears. I recognize my name, but my brain lags like it doesn’t know what to do with it.
“Yosh.” Louder this time, followed by a push against my shoulder. It knocks me back into reality.
“Huh—what? Sorry. I…” My hand flies to my face, shading my eyes from the rippling golden glow on the horizon.
“Your stone-age phone is ringing.”
I stare at him like he’s speaking a different language. Then he lifts my phone into view, the pan flute ringtone pierces my ears.
“Oh. Right, my phone.”
I take it from him and put the call on speaker.
“Hey, cupcake.”
“Hey, sweetheart!”
I match Tiffy’s bubbly energy, immediately catching Tom’s attention
“Listen, babe, me, Shaylon, Naomi, and her new guy, Zion, are heading to Elysia Beach for a barbecue. We’re meeting some of his friends there too. I don’t know if you’re in town, but it’s Saturday, so I figured…Want to come?”
I glance sideways at Tom. He looks at me with pleading puppy eyes.
“I’m with my friend Tom,” I say, putting some extra weight on friend. “We’re driving back to West Cove. You’re on speaker, by the way.”
“Oh, come on! The two of you should join us, it’ll be fun! We’ve got plenty of food, but my brilliant brother forgot to fill up the cooler. Could you guys pick up a bag of ice on the way?”
My eyes flick back to Tom. He’d love this, which is exactly why I shouldn’t be entertaining it.
But somehow, here we are, because my backbone turns to marshmallow when it comes to him.
I mute the call for a second.
“If you’d rather, we can head straight back to Arcadia.”
“No, I’d love to meet your friends. And besides, I’d pick barbecue any day over those thoughtful kale bowls at Arc.”
“I was going to take you somewhere to eat anyway, so it’s your call.”
He peeks over his shoulder at the guitar still strapped into the backseat.
“Nah, let’s go to the beach. I’m all in for good vibes and music, cupcake.”
I give him my so-manyth punch of the day before unmuting the call.
“We’ll be there in about forty-five minutes, and we’ll bring the ice.”
“Yay! Love you!” Tiffy chirps and hangs up.
I glance over at him. “You sure you’re up for this, Tom?”
He smiles. “I feel good today. And I like seeing you open like this.”
I inhale, but nothing follows. I try not to overthink what that meant.
I slow to a stop at a traffic light, staring at the red like I can force it to turn.
His hand settles lightly around my wrist, thumb stroking over the pulse there. Once, then again; probably testing the waters.
I allow all of it.
“Tom…” My voice breaks.
“I want to thank you for today, I needed this.”
A small nod. God, I wish I could freeze time right now.
I don’t want to think past this red light, past this song on the radio, or past the warmth between his palm and the back of my hand. Amsterdam will come soon enough, so will his brother, Jay.
It hurts.
I don’t know if I will have a place in his life. I just know that watching him this happy and doing nothing to protect his smile feels impossible.
The light turns green and I step on the gas.
I have one last surprise for him, which I’m sure will make today close to perfect.
The road through the hills feels like a rollercoaster, my ears popping with the pressure change the higher we go.
We reach the top and get a wide view of the salt flats below: candy-pink lakes and massive white piles of salt, as tall as a four-story building. There are hundreds of flamingos wading in the shallows, just as pink as the water, maybe a shade more coral. There are small grey babies too.
Who needs Egypt when you’ve got white pyramids, pink lakes, and all these exotic birds living their best life? Not me. I’m exactly where I want to be.
“Oh my god! Look!” Tom grabs my arm, as if I could possibly miss it.
Keeping my eyes on the road, I can’t help but smile at him, bouncing like six-year-old beside me.
I drive up to the viewpoint and park the car. Tom jumps out and heads straight for the edge of the cliff. He grabs the railing and turns back to me.
“Yosh, this is amazing. Look at them! They are so pink, and cute, and awkward!”
I lean against the railing, arms folded, saying nothing, just enjoying the view.
Yes, the flamingos too. But mostly him.
“What are you grateful for?” Tom asks.
“Today,” I say without even a single hesitation.
“Yeah, me too.” He peers up. “You know those movies where the main character is stuck in a loop and wakes up to relive the same day over and over again? I want that for today. No yesterday, no tomorrow.”
I smile. “Wouldn’t that be perfect?”
Tom takes a camera from his backpack; a instant film.
“Come on, let’s take a photo,” he says, already fiddling with the settings.
“That’s so cool. You always have it with you?” I ask.
“Yeah. This is Cameron, my fan-cam. When someone stops me for a photo, I give them one they can take home.”
I slap his shoulder. “Stop it, McKenna. You’re supposed to be trouble.”
He grins. “People say I bite, but the truth is, I wouldn’t even know how.”
I chuckle as we take position. Tom throws his arm around my waist and hands Cameron to me.
“You take the photo. Longer arms.”
And so I do. The photo rolls out within seconds.
“Oh, this one’s great. Another!”
By the second shot, we’re not really posing anymore. We’re laughing hard, and the photo turns out to be anything but serious. It ends up being just perfect.
Tom pulls a permanent marker from his backpack and starts writing on the back.
“Oh, Tom McKenna, the greatest musician of all time, can I please have your autograph?”
He pushes me away, grinning, and presents me with both pictures.
“You choose.”
I choose the one where we’re still posing. The one where his sapphire-blue eyes are looking straight at me, a collection of pink flamingos in the background. I turn it over to see what he’s written.
Our first photo together. The first of many, and then, indeed, his autograph.
I don’t have words. My jaw just drops on its own.
“Wow,” I manage. “Thanks, Tom. I, uhm… this is nice.”
“Yosh?”
“Hmm.” My eyes are fixed on the pink birds, because looking at him is a dangerous thing to do.
“Can I have your autograph too?”
He presses the marker into my hands before an answer leaves my mouth.
I take the photo where we’re all fun and chaos, already named Our second photo together, the second of many.
I sign it with my name and a little crystal, because that’s him.
Something bright. Something rare. Something I want to hold in my hands and keep safe.
It’s stupid, maybe. But this is as far as I can go without jinxing it.
I hand it back, fingers touching again, an accident we both know isn’t one.
We slide the photos into our wallets.
“Now we have proof.”
“Of what?” I ask.
“That today happened, in case we are stuck in a loop.”
My lips twitch.
I don’t hate the idea of tomorrow anymore.
Paradise is subjective.
Most people picture pearly white beaches, palm trees, coconut water, and tropical hibiscus flowers. The whole Caribbean fantasy. I understand why it works. Escapism has its appeal.
That’s not what makes the island paradise to me.
It’s simplicity. The right people around you with no pressure to impress, no rush, no compulsive need to check what’s happening elsewhere through the screen of your phone. Elysia Beach is that kind of place.
You can show up late with nothing but a bag of ice and a guitar, and still being welcomed like you brought a winning lottery ticket.
The air feels charged.
Maybe it’s the hot night. Or maybe it’s the way Tom keeps touching me, then retreating like none of it happened.
He sure knows how to edge, driving me insane in the best and worst way possible.
I shake off the thought and focus on the scene ahead.
The parking lot is a chaos I can actually handle. For a night.
It’s messy. The opposite of everything I grew up with. Maybe that’s exactly why it feels like home. People everywhere. Coolers, mismatched chairs, plastic tables set up around barbecues.
I slow down the car, paying close attention, because kids are chasing each other in-between vehicles.
Tiffy texted earlier, saying she found a spot by the first palapa behind the beach-side restaurant. It’s usually quieter there, a bit further away from the loudest speakers.
That seems like the perfect place to introduce Tom to the local way of life. Judging by his expression, he might need it. He looks overwhelmed.
Maybe he forgot this kind of community spirit existed.
I know the feeling. I was once in the same boat.
My headlights catch a familiar silhouette waving at us.
Tiffy must’ve seen my Gremlin approaching. She points to a free space, shouting something back to the group.
I hesitate. Is Tom ready to be back amongst people? People who might recognize him?
For a split second, I consider turning the car around, and take him back to Arcadia, where he can just be Tom. No expectations. No spotlight.
Then he looks at me.