14. Harrison
FOURTEEN
Harrison
“We did it,” Lila shouted victoriously as I trailed a few feet behind her.
“We did it,” I repeated, sucking in a breath. Lila looked out at Oia with a smile before holding up her hand.
I straightened up and eyed it. “What?” I asked when she waved in my face.
“What do you mean, what? Ever heard of a high five, genius?”
“Was that really high-five worthy?” I asked, finally catching my breath and arching an eyebrow at her.
“Was a strenuous hike in Greece from one stunning city to another really high-five worthy ? Are you serious?”
Reluctantly, I held up my hand and she slapped it gleefully. There were few things I hated more than high fives. It was almost impossible to look cool doing them. But I was sick of seeing Lila’s disappointed face because I had made yet another blunder, or snide comment. She would enjoy this trip, I would make sure of it, and if her enjoyment meant I had to lower my guard and match even the tiniest iota of her energy, then so be it.
“Let’s go explore.” She tugged on my arm and dragged me down to the quaint village of Oia, and I felt a little lighter as I let some of my reservations go.
But after we walked through the small town and arrived at the spot that promised the most breathtaking sunset in the world, I’d already had enough.
“This is not happening,” I stated as soon as I saw the crowd that had formed at the edge of town. We were shoulder to shoulder with other tourists, some even sitting on the ground as everyone prepared to wait the hour until they could watch the sun set.
Lila stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth as she assessed the situation. While we technically would be able to see the sunset from our spot, we were at least fifteen people back from the railing and wedged in like sardines. Tourists all around us were getting their cameras ready, and even more were piling in behind us.
Up until this point, the crowds had been relatively thin, and I’d been grateful we weren’t here in high tourist season. The streets of Santorini weren’t nearly as packed as the travel blogs Lila had looked up warned us they could be, but it seemed the sunset at Oia was just too good to pass up. There had to have been at least a hundred people gathered at this small edge of town.
Lila pointed to our right, where a small cobblestone path led away from the heart of town.
“Let’s go that way,” she suggested.
“What’s the point?” I argued, but she was already moving. I caught up to her in a few strides and lightly grabbed her arm, not willing to lose sight of her in this crowd.
“The sunset should be amazing from this entire side of the island. I’m sure we can find someplace better to watch it.”
“Everyone wouldn’t be standing up there in that crowd if there were a better place to watch it,” I pointed out.
She laughed. “Oh, please. One person waits in a spot and then everyone else does. It’s human nature. Why should we follow the crowd when there’s always a better path?”
“Not always.”
“Always, Harrison. Speaking from one fellow business owner to another, we know how to follow our own paths, do we not?”
She had a point there. I had never for a minute thought about joining someone else’s shop when I could open my own and have the control. It was what I had been working toward since the day I started my first apprenticeship. It was funny how Lila brought that up—us having that in common. I wasn’t something I’d thought about often, but maybe I should have.
The path went through an area that was mostly residential. We passed a few businesses here and there, until it was almost all houses. The noises of the crowd had completely faded away by this point.
“I don’t know. It seems pretty dead over here. I feel like we’re in someone’s back alley,” I said, wishing she’d just give it up and turn around.
“There,” she said excitedly, pointing to what looked like a resort hotel perched right up on the edge of the cliff. The pool deck had the perfect view of the ocean and the lowering sun. A few people sat in loungers by the pool, but it was pretty empty otherwise.
“That’s a private hotel,” I insisted. “We can’t just go in.”
Lila ignored me. “I’m going to ask.”
“Lila,” I hissed. But it was too late, she was already ambling toward the entrance of the pool deck. I followed her, muttering under my breath about what a pointless idea this was.
By the time I reached her, she was already talking with a smiling woman at a host stand.
“Great, thank you so much,” Lila said cheerily, before turning to me. “Let’s get those seats over there.”
I couldn’t hide the surprise on my face. “We can stay?” I asked. This place felt too good to be true. It was only a fifteen-minute walk from that crowded cliffside and had an even better view.
“Yep. She just asked that we buy something from the bar, which isn’t a problem for me because I’m starving. And you look like you could use a drink.”
Drinking didn’t loosen me up in the ways it did for other people. I always had control over myself. Always. But I didn’t argue with her.
“Here, you sit.” Lila practically pushed me into a chair. “I’ll go order for us. Any preferences?”
Before I could say anything, she gave me a thumbs-up. “Great. I’ll be right back.”
With that, she sauntered over to the tiki bar behind the pool, and I was left by myself.
Clenching and unclenching my fists, I tried to ignore the mild discomfort I felt. What the hell was even wrong with me? I was just sitting here, like every other tourist watching the sunset. A group still in the pool behind me laughed loudly, and the sound caused me to bristle. Slumping down further in my chair, I tapped my foot anxiously waiting for Lila to return.
“Here you go.” Her bright voice sounded just two seconds before a neon blue drink was placed in front of my face.
I recoiled at the sight of it, and did not pick it up.
She narrowed her eyes and hurt flashed across her face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I can’t drink that.”
“Why not?” she pressed, sitting down in the seat next to mine and sipping her own bright blue cocktail. “It’s delicious.”
“It’s blue.”
She snorted. “Obviously.”
Lila kept her green eyes fixed on me, but I said nothing else. “I don’t get what your problem is.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat.
“My problem is that I’ll look ridiculous holding that,” I snapped, hating the disappointment I kept putting in her eyes.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Who the hell cares? You’re on vacation, playing tourist, drinking a fruity drink. Who. The. Fuck. Cares?” She sat up and pointed behind me. “Do you think that couple using the selfie stick cares? Or that group, drunk off their asses in the pool? Or all the workers who literally make their living off of silly tourists like us? I can promise you, Harrison, literally no one is looking at you. Except me. And I will judge the hell out of you if you don’t pick up that blue drink and enjoy yourself.”
Her outburst had my spine straightening. I swear, for such an adorable package, Lila had a sharp tongue on her. But her words hit as I looked around and saw everyone else simply enjoying themselves. With a sigh of resolve, I picked up the offending drink and sipped it.
Damnit . It was delicious. Sugary and citrusy and exactly like what sitting by the ocean and watching this sunset should taste like.
“Now was that so hard?” she asked.
I winced.
“Why are you like this?” she murmured, relaxing back in her seat. She clearly didn’t expect a response, but that just made me want to give her one. Lila had been nothing but kind to me even when I didn’t deserve it. If I was going to open up to anyone, it might as well be her.
“It’s not easy for me to enjoy myself,” I admitted stiffly.
Her ears perked up at that and she leaned over to look at me. “You don’t say?” she said, a slight teasing tone to her voice. But she didn’t say anything else, clearly not wanting to scare me out of talking.
“I...I feel like I always have to be on. I don’t like anyone thinking they can look down on me for anything.”
She wrinkled her forehead and turned completely in her chair so that she was sitting sideways and facing me.
“Why would anyone look down on you for enjoying yourself? And even if they did, screw them. You shouldn’t care what anyone else thinks.”
I cringed inwardly, because she was right. But I had crafted my entire persona out of being someone untouchable.
“I just...I would just prefer it if people didn’t look my way.”
“Or you’d prefer they be scared of you,” she added.
“I’m not scary,” I insisted.
She smirked and shook her head. “Think again. You’re incredibly intimidating.”
While that was usually my goal, I hated the idea that I intimidated her.
“I’d rather people mind their own business,” I said.
“Except Oliver.”
“He’s my best friend.”
“He’s your only friend.”
I paused. “We’ve been through a lot together.”
She sighed, and I felt bad that even my attempt to open up was coming across as cryptic. I took another sip of my drink to distract myself.
“We’ve known each other since kindergarten,” I continued. “I didn’t have the easiest time making friends.” That was an understatement, but I couldn’t bring myself to divulge all of the vulnerable details. Even when she was looking at me like that.
“That was probably hard,” she offered, even though I was giving her nothing.
“It stuck with me, I guess.”
“Whatever happened then, you shouldn’t let it have all this control over you now.” Her eyes bored into me, and I shifted to look at the ocean.
“You’re always so full of life. It’s like you don’t care what anyone thinks,” I said. “I’m jealous.”
She laughed softly. “I haven’t always been like this. Or at least, I had someone try to dim my light before.”
That made me tune in more closely.
“My high school and college boyfriend. We dated for forever. He... let’s just say he wasn’t the nicest.”
My whole body heated up at her words. Despite being a dick to Lila myself, something about the way her face fell when she talked about this guy didn’t sit right with me.
“He was happier when I stayed at home. He didn’t love when I went out, or tried to meet new friends. I don’t want to get into it, but he definitely put a damper on my spirits for a while. So when I finally got out of that relationship, I vowed to always live life intentionally. It’s why Charlie and I started our business. It’s why I always try to look on the bright side when I can. It’s why I try to have fun with my clothes.” She shrugged. “Life is too short to put myself in a box and worry about what everyone else is thinking, you know?”
I desperately wanted to ask her for more details, but the sad, far-away look in her eyes made me stop. I didn’t want to push her. Here I was, trying to share something about myself, and now she was the one sharing. Except, maybe that was intentional on her part. She was trying to get me to be more comfortable.
I exhaled. Screw it. What did I have to lose?
“I grew up dirt fucking poor,” I started. “My parents had me real young, and their parents cut them off. They were always struggling, for as long as I can remember.”
Lila waited a moment before responding, like she was scared I might run off or something.
“That’s tough,” she finally said. “They seemed like wonderful people. You know, from the two seconds I spoke to them.”
“They are. And don’t get me wrong, we got by okay. They always made sure I had food and what I needed for school. But I didn’t always look like this, either.” I gestured to myself. “I was a bit of a late bloomer. And you can imagine that being the scrawny, poor kid didn’t win me any popularity contests. I only had one friend.”
“Oliver,” she finished.
“Exactly. We were neighbors growing up. I was always shy, but Oliver just rang the doorbell at our house one day and decided we should be best friends. We were inseparable until my parents lost the house and we had to move.”
She sucked in a breath. “I’m so sorry.”
“It is what it is. We moved into a motel, which made me the laughing-stock of my middle school. But Oliver didn’t give a shit. He stuck by me. Even when the other kids were bullying me, he always had my back.”
“What about your parents? They didn’t try to intervene?” she asked.
“It was tough.” I flinched at a particularly painful memory. “I’ll never forget one day I came home in the second grade. A group of kids had pushed me down and taken my sketchbook... I was always drawing back then. They ripped the pages out and scattered them all over the playground. I spent the whole period trying to find the papers and collect them. I held it together the rest of the day, but as soon as I got home, I started to cry. I’ll never forget the look on my dad’s face. He looked so... so helpless. Like it killed him that someone could treat me that way. I felt weak. I felt his weakness in me. Like we were attached by it.” My chest tightened just thinking about my dad’s face that day. “I don’t know. Ever since that day, I told myself I wouldn’t be weak. It took me a while to build up a thick skin, but I never did let my dad see me cry again.”
“You were just a kid,” she said sadly.
“A kid who grew up,” I continued. When I met her eyes, they were glassy with unshed tears of her own.
“Crying isn’t a weakness, Harrison. And kids are assholes. Your dad only looked at you that way because he loves you.”
“I guess. But emotion just seemed like a liability to me. People would always be horrible, but I was in control of how I reacted to them. If they couldn’t get a rise out of me, then it was like I won.” I shrugged. “Unfortunately, it was a small town, and I had to deal with those assholes all through school. I was always a bit of an outcast. Thankfully, Oliver got me through most of it. Anyway, as I got bigger, I stopped having to take as much shit. And the harder I made myself, the less everyone else bugged me.”
She gave a slight nod, as if that small glimpse into my past was her key to understanding why I turned out the way I did. The relentless bullying during those formative years had left me with no choice but to build a wall around myself, one that no one could get past.
Lila pulled her legs onto her chair and wrapped her arms around them.
“You see being human as weakness.”
“No,” I said quickly without even questioning whether she was right.
Her lip curled up as she stared up at me in silence for a few moments. It felt uncomfortable and raw to share this with her. Even after she’d just shared something of herself, I still couldn’t shake the strange feeling of being vulnerable.
At that moment we were thankfully interrupted by food being dropped off at our table. Lila wordlessly leaned forward and started to dive in, our hunger pangs from the long hike taking precedence over the heavy conversation.
“You know,” she said in between giant bites of Greek salad, “hiding yourself and constantly being on guard seems like more of a weakness than just letting go.”
I sighed and scratched the back of my neck, already wishing we could drop this.
“I know you’re not wrong,” I said. “But I’ve been like this my entire life. It’s not some switch I can turn off.”
“Right.” She tapped her fork against her chin thoughtfully. “But this is vacation you. And vacation you doesn’t have to live by real you’s rules.”
“I’m still the same person despite the different geography.”
“But you can let yourself relax.” She held up her index finger and thumb pinched together. “Just a little bit.”
“I’m trying.” I took a large sip of my blue beverage to make my point.
“But don’t just try for me. Try for you. I know Oliver isn’t here, but I’m on your side too. Relax and try to enjoy this. You’ll never be here or see any of these people again.”
“I’ll see you again,” I pointed out.
“And you should know that I am an excellent secret-keeper. If you want to go back to being hard-ass Harrison after this, by all means, go right ahead. But you owe yourself this chance to just have fun.”
I wanted to laugh. “I’m not even sure I know how.”
“Good thing you’re with someone who’s made fun her life’s mission.” She winked at me, and I could feel the corner of my lip tug up at her confidence.
“Oh my God. Is that a smile?” she teased.
Instead of snapping the scowl back to my face, I let my grin grow bigger instead.
“Shut up. Harrison is smiling.” Lila quickly whipped out her camera. “You need to take a picture with me right now. I must commemorate this moment.”
Shaking my head, I leaned toward her and let her snap the selfie, the colors of the sunset in the background.
“Going to send that one to Ollie too?” I asked.
“Nope.” She beamed up at me. “This is just for me.”
As we continued to eat and talk, I could feel decades of pressure and tension slowly drain from my body. Because the funny thing about Lila was that, even though I didn’t particularly want to, I trusted her. She felt a lot more like home than anything else on this trip. But it was more than that. She was good, through and through.
I had never vocalized how being bullied as a kid had affected me. Not even to Oliver. Because with Oliver, I didn’t need to explain myself. He knew how I was, almost as if I were a reflection of his own self. The dark and moody side to his coin.
Lila, however, needed to know. She needed a little piece of me to understand why I couldn’t just have fun. Why I had all these walls in place. And I had finally given her one.
Maybe that was why I had resisted her for so long. Deep down, I’d always known I’d be safe with her. That thought freaked the hell out of me, but like she said, this was all just temporary. And it was past time I took a break from the prison of my own making.