Air Kisses Page 17

  ‘Dan, please, away, get away, you’ll get… swim away from here.’

  I fought to get free, pulled my board back over to me and slumped onto it sideways, face down, breathing, just breathing.

  ‘Han, honey, it’s okay, it’s okay, the set has finished, just relax…I’ve got you, it’s okay.’

  Even though I should have been feeling grateful to be alive, all I could summon up was indescribable embarrassment.

  ‘Did you just get covered in my…my…you know?’ I asked Dan, still breathing heavily and pushing my hair out of my face to wipe the inevitable tears that follow being sick.

  ‘Kind of, but everyone’s doing it. It’s the new matching tattoo.’

  I smiled and closed my eyes. I concentrated on breathing and being still.

  ‘Can I go in now? I think I’m done.’

  ‘Nah, come on, Han – few more waves, you’ll be fine. You’re doin’ great! Seriously! Don’t look at me like that.’

  ‘Dan! Are you for real? I just want to go back to the goddamn beach!’

  ‘Stop being so dramatic, you’ll be fine.’ His tone was suddenly dismissive and irritated.

  I squinted at him, incredulous, but he had already gone and climbed back onto his board.

  ‘I’m going back to the shore. I’ve had enou—’

  I broke off as I noticed he had put his feet at the back end of his board and was gripping the nose of mine. Then he started paddling swiftly towards the shore. He turned his head and smiled. ‘Of course we’re going in, beautiful. I’m just screwing with you.’

  I nodded my head and smiled. My mouth tasted awful. I washed some saltwater into it in what was a very silly move. Now it tasted bad and I was exceptionally thirsty.

  The rest of the day was spent under heavy sedation. A big room-service breakfast, a nap, a movie, and then sushi on the beach at sunset. I felt almost human by bedtime.

  The remainder of the week was not nearly so dramatic, or restful. We flew to Maui, we drove to the northern beaches, we shopped, we ate squid and ice cream, we swam, we went surfing again (sans hangover), and I noticed that on more than one occasion I was feeling dangerously similar to how I’d felt about Dan back when I first met him. Whenever these romantic, idyllic thoughts shuffled into my mind, I belted them with a large baseball bat emblazoned with the words, ‘Remember What Happened Last Time, Stupid’. The big, fat reality check Dan had served me after we’d previously kissed goodbye was waiting for me at the end of this meal too, and to think otherwise was foolish.

  Oh, but the heart is a formidable opponent for the head. The idea of flying home after a week of decadence, sexiness, fun, and, well, Dan-ness gave me a sick feeling. I could sense that, despite all instruction, my walls had begun to crumble again, to the point where I was initiating cuddles and kisses in public and leading him to the bedroom friskily, and accidentally starting sentences with the phrase ‘Next time’, even though there was absolutely no guarantee there would be such a thing, and it would be much, much more helpful to think there certainly wasn’t.

  He said, ‘You’re not going home, you’re coming back to LA with me,’ so often that I actually, foolishly, started considering it. Could I do it? Was it one of those life-changing decisions I would regret forever? Was I just caught up in the whole funnymoon aspect of the trip? I decided that if he asked me seriously, then I would think about it seriously. Rather, if he could remember me once I’d sashayed through customs, then I would think about it seriously.

  ‘Gorgeous girl, are you ready to roll? We’ve got rockshrimp dynamite to eat.’

  It was our last night together; I would fly out in mere hours. I was wearing clothes suitable for a plane ride – jeans, singlet and hoodie – so, on top of feeling incredibly clingy, I was hot, uncomfortable and irritated.

  ‘I’m coming, I’m coming… My bag won’t close… I can’t… bastard won’t…’ The more I tugged at the zip, the less it moved and the more upset I became.

  ‘Babe, settle – here, let me do it.’

  ‘I’m fine, Dan, I’ll get it… It’s gotta close eventually…just don’t understand why it won’t… SHIT!’

  I had completely pulled the zip away from the zipper. The bag was now broken. I stared at the zip in my hand and felt tears spring to my eyes. Irrational tears over a metal clasp.

  ‘Han? You okay? Here, give me that, I’m sure we can get it back on there.’

  As I sniffed back a tear, he tilted my face up to his. ‘Han, baby, it’s okay. We’ll fix it, and if we don’t, we’ll tie it all up and bag it at the airport. It’s cool, this stuff happens all the time… Don’t cry, baby…’ He took me into his arms and stroked my hair.

  ‘I don’t think I’m crying about the bag, Dan.’

  ‘What’s up then? Oh… I get it… I see. It’s because you’re flying economy class, isn’t it?’

  I laughed through my tears and wiped my eyes, trying to compose myself. ‘I’ll be fine. It’s cool, really.’ He always joked when he could sniff a waft of conversational seriousness, and I certainly wasn’t about to be the sole soppy loser this time.

  Neither of us spoke for a minute.

  ‘I don’t want you to go either, Han.’ Genuineness suddenly reflected in Dan’s eyes, his voice and his grip on me. ‘I’m going to miss you so much. And all week I’ve been racking my brains as to what might happen after tonight, how soon I can come back to see you, or how I can get you to come and stay with me in LA… But all I could come up with is that I have to see you again. Soon. Tuesday, preferably. You’re my little Vomiting Gidget.’

  Utterly shocked at his honesty, I nervously laughed, but he kissed me by way of stopping me. We kissed with our eyes open, and it felt like my flight and the hotel room and the broken bag disappeared, and all that remained was us. Tears fell down my face and I broke the kiss to hug him closely again. How could I leave this? What would happen next? Would he pull the same bullshit move on me as last time? Should I bring it up? No. Words spoke far louder than actions – telling him he’d upset me wouldn’t make him contact me more, it would only make him feel obligated to contact me more, which, in my mind, was even worse.

  ‘C’mon, beautiful.’ He pulled away and looked at me. ‘No point wasting our last moments carrying on. Let’s enjoy our night, pretend like it’s our first. And when you get home, know I’ll be thinking of your brown little kicker on a surfboard.’

  The fact that he had slipped back into joke-mode signalled the ‘deep stuff’ was over. I took a deep breath. ‘You’re right. Let’s tie this stupid bag up and go.’

  ‘See? That’s why I love you, babe, you don’t sook out.’

  He was searching for something in the kitchen drawer to tie around my bag, and spoke as though he was asking where the scissors were.

  Only he’d said he loved me.

  Could he mean it? Or was it just a phrase he bandied around? Lots of people did that. He probably didn’t even realise what he was saying. But, even as I was talking myself out of believing it, I was inwardly frenzied at the idea that he might’ve meant it. Talk about throwing spanners.

  ‘Hey, Dan? No goodbyes at the airport, okay? I hate them. We have to make out as though I’m just catching a bus to work or something.’

  ‘Or going to the bathroom?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Can we make out for a bit first?’

  ‘Guess so.’

  ‘Then okay. Even though I’ll be a mess when you go through those gates. Especially as you look so good in those jeans. I’ll have to take Xanax tonight, you realise.’

  ‘I’m gonna get drunk at the airport bar,’ I said resolutely. ‘Talk to the barman about how sad and lonely I am, make the pianist play me a Fleetwood Mac song.’

  ‘Don’t miss your flight, will you. I’d hate for that to happen and you’d have to stay another night. Or twelve.’

  The idea of another night with him made me melt. But the reality was that I was heading home tonight. And might never see him agai
n. And, ultimately, I had to try to forget about him as soon as possible. It was too much to bear.

  The test

  The key to applying bronzer: apply it in two massive number ‘3’s down each side of the face, beginning at the middle of your forehead, almost in the hairline, sweeping down onto the cheekbone, and then finishing on the jaw line. Go over the figure 3s several times to build up you desired Bahama-ness.

  I felt like death physically, but like soft whirls of fairy floss mentally. I had kept my word to Dan and inhaled three red wines while waiting for my flight the night before, on top of two at dinner, and now I was hung over, and stiff from a sleepless night next to an overweight man who’d invaded half my seat and snored like a banshee. All of that aside, there was the afterglow of Dan, which cloaked me cosily and made me smile dreamily even when my circumstances were more deserving of a grimace.

  I’d chosen to compensate for feeling foul with a turbo-charged appearance. As soon as the flight landed, I’d raced home to shower and dress, blow-drying my hair, and choosing a hot white dress to wear with the ravishing new Miu Miu wedges I’d bought in Hawaii. I couldn’t wait to show them off to Iz, but as she was doing a megaconference, she was busy until late this evening, when I would probably be soundly asleep. I completed my look with loads of bronzer and pink gloss to offset my tan. Looking roughly 678 times better than I felt, set off for the office.

  ‘Hannah! You look amazing!’

  Kate greeted me with a mile-wide smile and a hug. She was illegally chipper for 8.25 a.m. and as I was still pre-caffeine, I wanted to put her on slow motion, and maybe dim her brightness a bit, too. Thankfully, Jay and Marley were both at a day spa on the coast for a conference with a yoga-wear client, so I didn’t have to speak too much at work. And, as I had no functions, I was free to go home as soon as I was done filing my story on how highlights in the right places can change the look of your face. It took me eight hours to write 350 words, but once they were done, I was off.

  Part of me was annoyed I had no functions where I could show off my tan and my wedges and my tales, but I’d see the girls soon enough, and an outfit unseen was an outfit that was as good as brand-new, I consoled myself.

  Hang on, what about Gabe? I called his mobile; it rang out. How unusual. A text chimed in seconds later.

  In meeting, can’t answer phone but can text – you home, yes? Tell me ALL. Did you get hitched in a white triangle bikini? Did you tell him he’s a pig for never contacting you? Are you in love?

  I smiled and shook my head.

  None of the above, sadly, but I did vomit on him while surfing hung over – equally romantic, non?

  That’s my beauty, always elegant, classy, chic. Are you sad? Miss him?

  Do but wish I didn’t. Was pretty amazing week and he’s criminally good-looking and fun and sexy – sigh – but don’t worry, I’m staying a strong bitch like we said I would. STRONG. BITCH.

  Good girl. He’s v lucky to have had you for a whole week. I barely get an hour per month. Now you stay a strong bitch and don’t be down when he doesn’t call, because we ALREADY KNOW HE WON’T and so it doesn’t faze us because we are hot and don’t care and just enjoyed Hawaii sex week for what it was. You SURE you okay?

  No, but will be soon, promise. You free next few nights for dinner? Debrief?

  Of course, beauty, will email you later. Love you and glad you’re home safe and no longer vomiting on people. xx

  Feeling jovial after Gabe’s texts, I decided to splurge on a cab. I waited patiently in the queue, enjoying the looks my summer-girl get-up was attracting from men in suits who walked by. I couldn’t stop smiling and lightly swaying in the warm evening breeze. I must’ve looked pleasantly intoxicated. In a way, I was.

  ‘Hannah, is that you?’

  I knew that voice.

  I did not want to see the person with the papers to that voice.

  I turned my head weakly and swallowed. Jesse stood behind me, smiling like a loon.

  I took a deep breath in and smiled widely. Stuff it. I looked good, I felt strong; hit me with your best, punk.

  ‘It is you! You’ve changed your hair! Wow. You look great…really tanned. Where’ve you been?’

  ‘Hawaii.’

  ‘I love Hawaii. I went there myself a few weeks back.’ He paused, hoping I’d ask why.

  A taxi pulled up to the curb. Thank God. I began walking towards it.

  ‘Han.’ Jesse was calling from behind me. ‘Han, um, do… do you want to get some dinner, maybe?’

  Pardon?

  ‘I…I can’t, Jesse, I’m sorry but…I’ve got plans…’ And with that I closed the taxi door. I had no idea what had just come over me, but it smelled faintly like strength.

  As we pulled onto the expressway, I finally calmed down enough to reflect on what had just happened. Jesse had asked me out. I wondered why I wasn’t smiling. Here was Jesse, saying something I had dreamed of for months, and yet I didn’t feel excited. I just felt kind of confused. And numb. And like I wanted to be back in Dan’s arms.

  I got home and paced around nervously. My overtired brain began to go ballistic. Why hadn’t Dan called to see if I’d got home safely? Why was Jesse suddenly wanting to hang out? And why was there never any fucking FOOD IN HERE?!

  A fresh text came through with ‘I Suck’ attached as the name. Jesse.

  Han, I know this is out of left field, but seeing you tonight just reminded me of so many things. I’d love to see you sometime soon, even if just for a coffee?

  I couldn’t believe his arrogance! After months of nothing he thought I’d drop everything for a date with him! I reread the text disbelievingly. And then I read it again. And again.

  I opened a bottle of wine that, being worth over $50 and a gift, was not meant for a solo session of angry drinking, but it was all I had. I was totally confused. My ego was popping the cork of some Bollinger, nodding smugly and doing a victory dance, but my head was standing with its arms crossed, tapping its foot and saying, ‘Oh really? You want to go back there? After all you’ve been through? Remind me, why did we bother with all of those rules and regulations? Have you forgotten all the hard work we’ve done? ARE YOU ON DRUGS?’

  This event needed immediate workshopping. I needed Iz. I called her mobile; it was off. Desperate, I called her home phone, even though I knew there was little chance she would actually be there. After a few rings, a male voice answered the phone.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Oh, Kyle, hi, it’s Hannah… Um, I think I know the answer but Iz isn’t there, is she?’

  ‘Nope, she isn’t, but this isn’t Kyle…’

  Oh God. Not now. I needed her to be stable right now! How could she have broken up with Kyle already?

  ‘Well, whatever your name is, do you know when she’ll be back? It’s urgent.’

  ‘Hannah, Hannah, it’s Dec. Are you okay? What’s wrong?’

  Dec. Dec! Of course! ‘Dec, I’m so sorry. I’d completely forgotten you were staying with Iz.’

  ‘Hopefully not for too much longer; I’m two-thirds of the way to finding a place of my own.’

  ‘But surely Iz doesn’t mind?’

  He laughed. ‘I wouldn’t do it to her, Han. Not as I’m moving back for good. There’s no way we could stand living together full time.’

  What? Dec was going to be around all the time? I’d been given way too much information for one fifteen-minute span. My head was going to implode any second.

  I cleared my throat and tried to play it cool.

  ‘Wow, welcome home! Why did you…?’

  ‘Well, I’ve just signed a pretty meaty contract with my well-paying telco friends, meaning they basically expect me to be on call twenty-four hours, not every few weeks…and, you know, it had always been on the cards, but Pia never really wanted to…’

  ‘Oh. Well, I mean, it’s great that you’re back home if you always wanted to come back here.’

  ‘Yeah, it just feels right, you know?’

 
‘Well, Iz is, like, the best person in the whole world, so it will need to be somewhere pretty flash to convince you to move out,’ I joked feebly. Was I already trying to dissuade him from moving out?

  He laughed. ‘You know, I don’t actually mind living with my sis, even if her male supermodel is over and playing Xbox twenty-four-seven. Hey, how was your trip to Hawaii?’

  He didn’t even need to be in front of me and I was blushing like a fool.

  ‘Um, yeah, yeah, it was nice… Ilearnttosurf!’ I exclaimed, making the conversation light and not about Dan, even though Iz would’ve told him everything.

  ‘Noooo, little Han’s gone all surfer chick! That’s unreal! We’ll have to go out for a wave sometime.’

  An image of me looking walrus-like in a wetsuit with my hair all over my face flashed into my head. No. There would be no surfing with Dec.

  ‘Uh, maybe not. I’m kind of really bad.’

  ‘Then I’ll teach you so you’re kind of really good.’

  I laughed flirtatiously before realising I was laughing flirtatiously. Hannah! Focus! You’re not here to flirt with your best friend’s older brother. your ex-boyfriend wants a date and you need to speak to Iz!

  ‘We’ll see. Hey, if you see Iz can you ask her to call me urgently?’

  ‘Sounds serious – let me guess, you need to borrow a dress and it’s a matter of life and death?’

  ‘Dec, don’t be an arse. Just ask her to call me, please.’

  ‘Okay, Gidget, will do.’

  I laughed and hung up. I shook my head at how my day was panning out. When you are finally into one guy, five other guys will always crawl out of the woodwork to confuse things.

  I dialled Iz’s mobile again. This time she answered.

  ‘Iz, hi! I’m so glad I got you: Jesse asked me on a date! I saw him at the taxi stand, and I looked really good, and then he texted me asking me to catch up, and I should be over the moon but I’m not, I’m really not, and I’m thinking that maybe that was the test, you know, from the universe, and that it proves I am over him, like, for good, because if I wasn’t, I’d be totally frothing about it, but I’m not, and—’