Good

~Cali~

There are a few things in life I have little tolerance for. My sister’s voice – which is a total lie – a hungover and a stinking smell.

Feeling the soft sheets against my skin, I buried my face deeper into the feather soft pillow under my cheeks. It smells sweet and sour, like green apples on a hot summer's day.

Apples.

I don’t smell like apples.

In my sleepy state, I tried to stand only to fall face flat on the floor with a loud thud. Groaning, I perceived I wasn’t on a bed. The black leather couch where I laid seconds ago came into view on my hazy sight.

The world was spinning; the couch was spinning, although I don’t think the end of the world is going to look like this.

With a heavy sigh, I pushed my flattened face up off the wooden floor and sat on my bum. Taking in my surroundings, my eyes widened in horror at the realization that I wasn’t in my condo. Wooden furniture neatly placed in a minimalist interior of the house – cabin if my guess is right. With the big logs as pillars that hold together the same mahogany colored walls, a rustic chandelier hung above me in gold and brown color. The orchid shaped lights on it look spinning.

Shaking my head, I looked at the other end of the hall, and found an open kitchen with the same intricate design as the living room I was currently situated in. The huge logs travel throughout the entire cabin. Stone and wooden kitchen island and counter made the place the most beautiful cabin I have ever set foot on. A few kitchen appliances can be found, but only the basics. A basket of fruits resting above the island caught my eyes, and my mouth watered at the glossy skin of the apples.

It’s homey and I’m loving this place. Whoever designed it must be a brilliant person.

What is it with green apples?

Standing on my feet, the foul smell that followed my every movement made my nose scrunch. Only then did I realize I was still in last night’s clothes. It doesn’t take a genius that the white stain on my red dress was probably the food I ate that came out where then entered.

There was no indication, no picture, no nothing that would give me a clue about the owner of this house.

God, I hope he doesn’t look like Chewbacca.

It could be a girl that I came home with last night.

Well, whoever it was, had the decency not to touch me in my wasted state. I should feel relieved, but part of me wasn’t – for some reason. I came to that place to get a quick hookup, but no one seems to be interested in me.

A stupid blond that got cheated on. I came here to be no one, that means I shouldn’t even bother to brood over my problems.

Taking a seat on the wooden stool, I grabbed one apple, taking a hefty bite on it. The mouthwatering crunchiness of the fruit and its forbidden sweet taste made me moan loudly.

A loud crashing sound startled me, and loud screams of profanities followed the animalistic groan.

The little hair on my body rose in fear. Getting out of here was the first thing that came into my mind.

I don’t want to die. At least, not yet. Not like this.

Think, Cali.

Looking for a quick way out, I now realize that the door on my side is locked from the inside. Leaving the tasty half-eaten fruit on the counter, I hurriedly unlocked the door and ran out of the house.

I didn’t have time to look back when I saw the road that leads to safety. Or did I have the time to dwell on my swelling bare feet as I ran on the stoned path. I ran as fast as I could, even when my stomach was growling in protest of hunger.

Huh.

It didn’t take me ten minutes, and I found the main road, a familiar path that had become my refuge for the last five days.

The surrounding trees of the place had me fooled. I thought I was in a forest of some sort.

The people on the streets were giving me weird glances, and I had to lower my head. The condo where I am staying is about twenty minutes’ walk, but I can’t even complain. I was penniless, shoeless, loveless and even heartless that I wanted to cry.

I’m never repeating what I did last night.

Getting wasted was such a waste of time.

He’s not worth this damn trouble, and I hate my sister for pushing me to go on this vacation. I drowned myself in work, at least it kept my mind busy and prevented me from nursing my wounded heart. And now, I don’t even have anything to do here in Barbados.

Reaching my building, the lobby guard raised his hands in my face before I could even take as much as a whiff of the lemon air freshener the housekeeping used.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked in a strict tone. He sounded like an officer apprehending a criminal.

Raising my head to look at him in the eyes, I glared at him. He literally took a step back.

“My apologies, Miss P,” the stout security mumbled. My ever loving and annoying sister came up with that name. To keep me safe from public eyes, she said. For all I know, she just wanted to make fun of me and the sad part is, I still love her. “Rough night?” he had the nerve to chuckle nervously.

How dare this man rub it in?!

My eyes narrowed to slits that I almost lost sight of him. He, once again, mumbled a quick apology before stepping aside, allowing me to walk in.

Aila, the receptionist, shot me a worried glance. I responded with a simple nod and walked into the lift. Good thing it was still too early for the residents to come lurking in the lobby and hallway. I am saved from the walk of shame – barely.

As I punched in the code to my Condo unit, I breathed out heavily and headed straight for the fridge. Grabbing the water canister, I chugged down half of the one-litre container’s content. My throat was celebrating at the relief the water gave me, but my head was still pounding loudly.

Walking into my room, I discarded all of my clothing in a hurried movement until I reached the bathroom. Leaving trails of stinking clothes and undergarments along the way.

Before I could get under the shower, I did a double-take on the girl standing in front of the mirror.

“What the actual hell?” I mumbled, taking in the sight of me – no scratch that, the horror of me. The mess above my head was the last thing of my concern. The makeup I put on last night now completely smudged. My red lipstick and mascara smear made me look like a sorry clown.

I want to cry.

Why me?

My chest feels heavy as I breathe in and out.

What did I do in my past life to deserve this kind of humiliation?

Huffing loudly, I got under the shower and screamed in surprise when the cold water hit my skin like rains of needles.

I urged myself to calm down. Not allowing every horrible thing that happened to me in just a short amount of time this morning to ruin my day.

When I was sure that I was thoroughly clean of all the remnants of my eventful night and morning, I put on a robe and wrapped my hair with a fluffy towel.

Walking out of the bathroom, I picked up my discarded clothes and washed them quickly. Letting it dry on the balcony of my room. I don’t need anyone to wash the clothes I had gutted my stomach content out for me. I can do it myself.

After doing just that, I opened the fridge and rummaged for something to cook. A proper meal would do well for my hungover, but I still popped a pill of pain reliever in my mouth.

Making a quick pasta dish, spaghetti aglio, olio e peperoncino, I stuffed my stomach and let my body relax a bit… a longer bit.

When I woke up, it was nighttime again, and I persuaded myself not to go out and get wasted. I usually have great control over everything. That’s what I thought I had until I found myself dressing up. Denim shorts and a red off-shoulder crop top, ready to go, and have a few drinks again.

I sighed.

What is wrong with me?

The last five nights of me being marooned on this beautiful island made me realize how much of my life I had thrown away. Loving someone who completely didn’t deserve it, not even an ounce of my attention.

My sister, Ren, forced me to find myself. I don’t even know what she meant by that, so here I am, finding myself in a club. A live band playing a Spanish song that said something about a bike that will take you anywhere.

An uncomplicated ride. That’s what I need right now.

Without my phone, my laptop and the internet, my sister and the rest of the people in my life abandoned me. It’s one of her many conditions before allowing me to have access to my money.

She is my sister and not my mother. She’s not even a year older than me - eleven months – and she thinks she can dictate on how I want to spend my life?

Yes, she can.

That’s why I am here, right?

Giving my card to the lady bartender, I ordered a dirty martini for starters. I don’t plan on getting drunk like I did last night - at least not yet. That was very irresponsible of me. I can’t even imagine the face of the person who took me to that cabin where I woke up this morning.

I love Chewbacca, although the thought of having sex with someone who is as hairy as that cute Star Wars character irked me.

Sitting on the stool by the bar made me feel less alone… less lonely. People come and go, buying drinks of this and that. It felt as if I was just a remnant on their way, a blockage for them to reach the bartenders, and I’m okay with that, like it even.

I just don’t want to be alone in my room tonight. I don’t want to read a romance novel that would make me dwell on my broken heart. Watching television would only lead to me crying over everything that I see in it – I tried not to – but it just happens.

Must be old age?

“Beer,” another order came in, but this time, the person stood behind me as I played with the little olives on my glass.

It was a crowded club, and I didn’t mind people invading my personal space, not until the person behind me rested his warm hands on my bare shoulders. It was a very intimate gesture, and I don’t think I can tolerate that.

He’s a man, no question in that. The way his rough hands caressed my skin made this weird feeling in my belly noticeable. The warmth of his body behind me slowly moved on my side when the girl who ordered five shots of sex on the beach left with a big smile on her face.

The lady bartender, whom I didn’t even bother to look at earlier, placed an opened beer bottle in front of the person occupying the stool beside me. She was pretty - the bartender - especially when she smiled sweetly at the guy. Her olive skin glows under the creamy light of the bar and her smile disappeared when she laid eyes on me.

What’s her deal? I wasn’t even doing anything.

My eyes rolled from east to west. People sometimes are creepy as shit.

She glanced back at the person beside me only for her smile to fade when he said, “another drink for the lady.”

I turn, throwing a glance at the stranger with the aim of politely declining. “I’m… good…” My mouth hung open, as wide as a cave, until my jaw was touching the floor.

Damn. He looks freakishly edible.

I’m good indeed.

~~