Chapter 10
Calvin
Roughly sixteen hours of travel later, Nikita and I arrive in Portim?o, Algarve. I have barely slept thanks to the fact I had forgotten the sleeping tablets I usually take before I travel. Whilst getting ready for the flight I made a mental note not to forget them, but apparently, my brain turned on me and I was left tossing and turning throughout the flight. Much to Nikita’s disdain might I just add, but I just failed to get comfortable.
I usually pop two right after takeoff. It’s the only way I am able to get through a flight. I am not the kind of person who enjoys that particular form of transport. Somehow I always manage to think about exactly what is happening. The fact I am over thirty-thousand feet off the ground, leaving the safety of my life in the hands of strangers. Definitely not a thought I welcome, but it pops up like constant ads when watching any YouTube video ever.
“Obrigado, senhor,” Nikita thanks our cab driver as he places the last of our luggage on the curb outside the hotel. The tall white building spans ten floors and with the picturesque ocean view in the distance, these rooms must have one hell of a view. Each room has a balcony and I figure the ones on the opposite side have the best view thanks to the ocean. The sun is beating down on us and the leaves of the palm trees gently move with the wind. I swear it is supposed to be moving into fall, but here summer seems to extend deep into the middle of September.
“Hello?” Nikita’s voice pulls me away from taking in the views. I turn to her and she stands with her bright orange bags on either side of her. I am not sure how she was allowed on the airplane with her, clearly, oversized luggage. “Are you going to stand there the whole day or…?”
Rolling my eyes, I reach for the handle of my own bag, “Forgive me for taking a moment to soak in this view.”
Nikita looks out towards the ocean, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “I almost forgot how beautiful it was here.” She turns back to me, dropping her hand, “And I want nothing more than to soak in that view, but I can’t do anything until I shower.”
“I was wondering what that smell was.”
She rolls her eyes and grabs the handles of both of her bags, not bothering to wait for me before she follows the cobblestone entrance that leads to the reception of the hotel. Nikita was onto something - a shower, and a nap actually, would be amazing right now. I have built this entire trip up in my head to the point of suffocating anxiety and now that I am here, it is escalating at an alarming rate in anticipation of what comes next.
I try to implement my breathing techniques again, but it is proving to be a trying task. No one knows about my crippling anxiety since I have spent years finding ways to control it. I alluded to anxiety once during a dinner party at Violet’s parent’s house and that became a running joke of the evening. Apparently they believed anxiety was ‘just an excuse not to get things done’. It was too difficult to explain that that wasn’t the case so instead, I never brought it up again. And I have gotten pretty good at keeping that to myself. I hated the way I felt in that moment - weak and useless sum it up. I don’t want to feel that way ever again.
I shake these thoughts away, begging the suffocating feeling in my chest to give me a break. I have deduced that most of Kenneth and Britney’s wedding is going to be more of a display of wealth than anything else, but who am I to complain about an all-expenses-paid trip? At least that’s what I keep trying to tell myself. I need to find the ‘bright side’, but truthfully, the thought of seeing Violet again has my stomach in knots.
And I hate it.
I catch up with Nikita, stopping in front of her before she makes it to reception. “Now that we’re here, it’s showtime.”
“I’m well aware, babe.”
Glancing around, I try to see if I recognize anyone, but I’m relieved when it’s just strangers scattered throughout.
“Your girlfriend is dying to get out of these clothes,” she says in a hushed tone, a look of annoyance resting on her face. Or maybe that’s just how her face is, since it’s the most common look I’ve seen on her. “Seriously, Cal, we’ve been traveling for hours and that’s all I want to do right now, so can we cut the chit-chat and check in?”
“Is there a reason you’re being extra pleasant today?” Sarcasm drips from my words as my irritation flares.
She glares at me. “It’s ten in the morning and I haven’t had a single cup of coffee, since you said there was no time because our driver had been waiting. I literally function on caffeine and there is currently none in my system.”
“Your use of the word ‘literally’ is incorrect,” I point out.
“What?”
“You said ‘I literally function off caffeine.’ That’s incorrect.”
The phrase ‘if looks could kill’ has never been so accurate until this very moment, but I get great satisfaction in pushing Nikita’s buttons. “This absurd idea that one needs caffeine before being able to interact with others is just an excuse for people to act poorly,” I respond, knowing I am only adding fuel to the fire, but also knowing I am unable to stop. I notice a restaurant towards the left of us before I lean closer to Nikita. “Go get yourself a coffee and hopefully your personality will start to return.”
“Thin ice, Rhodes, thin ice.” She folds her arms across her chest and glares at me, burning a hole in the back of my head as I go over to reception to check us in. Thankfully, the process goes through without a hitch and before I know it, Nikita and I are in the elevator heading up to the eighth floor.
“How much free time do I have on this holiday?” Nikita asks.
I shrug, “I am sure we’ll get the itinerary sometime today. Britney’s sister is in charge of the activities for this week.”
“Why does it sound like I’m on a school camping trip and we’re all going to have to do team-building activities?”
“Because that’s probably the case,” I admit, “Kendra - Britney’s sister - is very… uh… thorough.”
Kendra is overbearing and very, very, very involved.
It is insufferable at times when she is in charge of every aspect involving the wedding party. She reminds me of a hall monitor, but the ones that seem to think that is the same as being in charge of the entire school when in fact, no one cares.
“Thorough?” Nikita repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Now what’s the real word you would use to describe her?” The elevator pings as we ascend past the different floors. Third floor. Can this elevator take any longer?
“I’ll let you choose a word after you’ve met her.”
“Oh, goody,” her voice is deadpan.
Ping. Fourth floor.
“This has to be the slowest elevator ever,” Nikita mutters, her eyes closed as she leans her head against the carriage.
“Tell me about it.”
Ping. Sixth floor.
The travel time from the lobby to our floor feels longer than the sixteen hours it took to arrive here.
“Finally!” Nikita exclaims as the elevator finally comes to a stop on the eighth floor, still taking its sweet time to slide the door open. I stand back and gesture for Nikita to exit first before I follow, taking up a place next to her as we walk down the hallway.
“I was convinced we’d have to live in that elevator forever.”
I eye her. “You’re going to need to dial down that sarcasm to zero while we’re here.”
“Never.”
We stop outside the gray door of room 805. I reach for the key card in my back pocket and place it in front of the scanner. The sound of a click and flash of a green light lets us know that it’s unlocked.
Nikita wastes no time attempting to open the door to our room but before she can I put my arm out, stopping her from moving any further.
She glares up at me, clearly unimpressed. “What are you doing?”
“We’re splitting this room in half. You stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, but when we leave this room, you’re my… girlfriend.”
“No one is going to believe us if you keep pulling that face when you refer to me as your girlfriend.”
“What face?”
“The one that looked more disgusted than enthusiastic about my presence.” Her tone is both unbothered and uninterested, “So you work on that while I take a shower.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond before she pushes my arm out of the way, entering the room. I pause for a moment, taking a deep breath in an attempt to ignore the frustration that is percolating inside of me.
I step inside, closing the door behind me as Nikita’s voice booms through the room. “Calvin!” I barely have time to register what the place looks like before she barges out of the only bedroom. “I thought you said you were getting a room with two beds.”
I place my luggage next to the counter in the open-plan kitchen and drop my hand luggage on top of it. “I did. I called ahead and organized it.”
“Then why the hell is there only one bed?!” She points towards the bedroom, her eyes bugging out as the frustration simmers off of her.
“What?” I walk over to where she stands, popping my head into the bedroom to see - yep, she is right - one double bed.
Fuck.
“There must be a mistake,” I state just as confused.
“You think?” Nikita exhales in frustration. “Fix it.”
I turn back to her, narrowing my eyes. “Say please.” Instead of doing that, she folds her arms across her chest and glares at me. “Someone seems to have left her manners in America.”
“They were probably left next to your brain.”
I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep my amusement from showing. She is truly a piece of work. I find her both annoying and amusing in equal measure.
“You stay here. I’ll go speak to reception.”
She snorts and walks over to the counter, dumping her handbag on it. “On second thought, I’m coming with you.” I turn to head out as she pushes past me, muttering to herself. “If you want something done, you’ve got to do it yourself.”