So then, because we were in Mykonos, and because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re in Mykonos, we hit the clubs. I mean, we were still kind of sandy and messy from the beach and all, but after a cocktail or two at some pretty waterfront bar in Little Venice, it’s not like we even noticed or cared.
In fact, I no longer cared about much of anything.
I no longer cared about my parents’ divorce.
I no longer cared about moving.
I no longer cared about the fact that I was about to cheat on Yannis.
I no longer cared about the fact that I was about to cheat on Yannis with someone I no longer cared about.
Because suddenly, with my head all light, and cloudy, and woozy, and with the music blaring so loud, and with Levi dancing so close—it was all good.
In fact, it was better than good it was—
Luminous!
And brilliant!
And shiny, and warm, and sexy, and glamorous, and exciting and fun!
And then suddenly my mouth was on Levi’s, and his tongue was in mine, and his hands were sliding down my body, and my eyes were closed, and then the room started spinning, which was totally cool at first because I thought we were spinning together, like two people who are so madly in love they just spin across rooms. But then when I opened them again, I saw it was still Levi, and I tried to remind myself how much I once liked him, how popular he is, and how cute. How lucky I was to be there in his arms. How no other girl in our school, no other girl ANYWHERE had ever made out with him in a club in Mykonos. Not even that stupid Penelope chick. Not anyone. And then I remembered how I saw Yannis talking and laughing with Maria by the harbor, how he whispered S’agapo to me, and how I was leaving soon so it’s not like it mattered. How there’s no such thing as love. Just people who like to pretend they’re in love. When the truth is it’s false and invisible and doesn’t really exist.
And I convinced myself so well of these things that I just kept kissing him back. Closing my eyes again, blocking everything out, letting the room grow calm and quiet until it settled around us, knowing that THIS was real. That fleeting moments like this were the best you could ever really hope for.
And so we kept kissing—between drinks, between songs, even after the club closed and we found ourselves a small, secluded beach where we kissed some more. We kissed as the sun came up. We kissed as he told me he had to head back to his boat. We kissed as he promised to e-mail. We kissed one last time before I headed off to my ferry, where I bought a ticket, climbed aboard, and watched as his boat sailed away from the dock—pressing my forehead against the smudgy, scratched glass, and wondering what the hell I’d just done.
Circle in the Sand
0 Comments:
August 11
Dear Mom—
For your information, I KNOW you SOLD the house. I got it straight from my source. So I guess what’s done is done, and there’s nothing more I can do.
I’m sorry things didn’t work out with your boyfriend (sorry, but I don’t remember his name). But what I really need to know is if this means Arizona’s back on?
Let me know—
Love,
Colby
August 11
Dear Dad,
I’m sorry I accused you of being engaged when you’re not. I guess my source is not nearly as reliable as I thought.
See you in a few weeks.
(It feels weird to write that.)
Love,
Colby
August 11
To: NatalieZee
From: ColbyCat
Re: The sordid truth
It’s true.
My mom sold the house. What can I say?
Though I want to thank you for all of your efforts in trying to sabotage it from the start. Seriously, for that alone I will be eternally grateful.
And, not like it probably matters much anyway, I mean, after everything that’s happened and all, but I still want you to know that I’m actually really grateful for a lot of things that you’ve done. And I’m sorry that I acted like such a BIG FNB. (I know you hate abbreviations, but did you really want me to spell that out?) Or better yet—A BIG CONFORMING RETARD—like you once said.
And yeah, believe it or not the whole thing with Levi was totally real. But in the end it just wasn’t as great as you’d think. Okay, maybe YOU never thought it would be even close to great, but we all know I did.
Well, if you want, I’m thinking maybe we can get together when I get back in town, before my mom makes me move to Arizona. (Yup, you read it right, though I’ll explain it in another e-mail, on another day.)
Ya’Sou—
Colby
August 12
Dear Aunt Tally and Tassos,
I’m sorry that:
1) I made you worry.
2) I didn’t tell you I was going to Mykonos.
3) I asked you to lie to Yannis.
4) I broke the one and only house rule.
5) My parents forced me on you and made you take me in, thereby wrecking your calm, tranquil, peaceful life.
6) Etc. (I mean, I’m sure there’s much more to be sorry for—but I’m hoping you’ll accept a blanket apology for all of the infractions I may have missed.)
Just know that I’m really, really sorry.
Love,
Colby
August 12
To: AmandaStar
From: ColbyCat
Re: summer lovin!
Hey Amanda,
Just responding to your e-mail, and thought I’d tell you that those pictures of you and Jenna and Penelope and Casey at the beach were really cute.
And to answer your questions:
—Yes, it was fun seeing Levi.
—And, yes those are real, live, alcoholic cocktails we’re drinking in those pictures he sent you. There’s no age limit here, so you can pretty much do whatever you want.
Anyway, I’ll be home by the end of the month, but I’m not sure if I’ll be going back to Harbor or not, since as you may or may not know, my mom sold the house, and I have no idea where I’ll end up.
Okay, well, take care, and thanks for writing—
Colby
August 12
To: Levi501
From: ColbyCat
Re: party pics
Hey Levi,
Thanks for sending those pics. I forgot all about that one bar, though I definitely remember those blue drinks we both had! I think I might still be feeling it—just kidding! (Well, kind of.)
To answer your question, I’ll be back on August 31, but after that, I really don’t know where I’ll be since my mom sold the house, and I’m not sure where we’ll be moving.
Anyway, it was good to see you too—
Enjoy the rest of the summer!
Colby
August 12
Dear Yannis,
I know you don’t want to talk to me, so I’ll just keep this brief and say that I’m sorry.
I’m really, really sorry.
Though I have to admit that I’m not really sure what I’m apologizing for, and I just wish you’d talk to me long enough to tell me, so then maybe I could try to explain.
I’ll be here until the end of the month, in case you change your mind about seeing me.
Colby
P.S. It would have been really nice if you had told me where you lived, or maybe even invited me over so I’d know where to send this stupid letter. I guess you didn’t really S’AGAPO me like you said! And no way am I asking Tally and/or Tassos for your address!
Cruel Summer
August 13
That’s right, CRUEL SUMMER is back, but only long enough to say good-bye. After a brief period of sunshine, the clouds have moved in and the forecast shows nothing but gloom and doom from here on, my friends.
Though maybe it’s just another sign that the end of summer is near, that my time in Tinos is over, and that I’ll soon be heading home—wherever that turns out to be…
So, thanks to those of you who took the time to stop by, read, and/or comment me.
I really do appreciate it.
Love,
Colby
Colby’s Journal for Desperate Times When She’s Feeling Really Desperate
August 14
So yesterday, just after I signed off from my stupid, depressing, loser blog I was on my way home, basically dragging my feet and alternating between hating myself and feeling sorry for myself, when I decided to quit acting like such a pathetic little baby, and just go to the hotel, find Yannis, and get to the bottom of things once and for all.
I mean, in just two and a half weeks I’ll be going home anyway, most likely never to return, so what does it really matter if I make a fool of myself, say something stupid, and/or end up looking like the world’s biggest dork? It’s not like anyone at home will ever know, so it’s not like I had anything to lose.
Besides, I just couldn’t bear the idea of returning to California and leaving things the way they were—messy, unfinished, just hanging. I mean, if Yannis had dumped me for Maria, then I really wanted to hear it from him. And if he dumped me for some other reason, then I needed to know that too.
It’s like, the whole thing was just so sudden, and unexpected, I guess I needed to make sense of it. Because according to both Tally and Tassos, he never even came by the house that night.
Which means they never had to lie to him.
Which also means there’s no way he could’ve known about me, Levi, and Mykonos.
Which means, whatever happened, happened because of HIM.
It also means that technically, I’d been dumped well before I even got on that boat.
I just didn’t realize it at the time.
And once I had that all straight in my head, I gave myself full permission to stop beating myself up, to stop feeling so guilty about everything, since in the end, it really didn’t matter anyway. Apparently I was free and single, I just didn’t know it.
But even though shirking all of the blame did make me feel better, it was pretty short-lived. I guess because it also left me with the one, ugly, undisputable truth—
I’d been dumped for the Greek vixen otherwise known as Maria.
And even though the thought of that made me feel completely nauseous and sick, I still needed to have it confirmed. I needed to be able to face the truth so I could file it away and move on. I mean, since my summer already had a beginning and middle, I knew it was time to give it an end.
But if I’m going to be COMPLETELY honest, then I also have to admit the slightly embarrassing truth of how part of me just really needed to see him again—just one last time, before I went away and ended our story for good. I guess I just wanted to make sure that we really were truly and completely over. And to get myself some closure if it turned out we were.
So instead of going home, I grabbed a taxi and headed straight for his hotel, thinking it was early enough that he’d probably still be working, and hopefully not late enough that he’d be engaging in something horrible and heartbreaking like entertaining Maria by the pool, in the same way he’d done with me.
So after I paid the driver, I climbed out of the car and just stood there, squinting at this sprawling, dusty, chaotic construction site that seemed to just go on forever, since the hotel is built bungalow style as opposed to high-rise.
And not really knowing where to start, I just walked right up to a group of construction workers, cleared my throat, and said, “Poo ee neh Yannis?” Which to my understanding meant, “Where is Yannis?” But when I was greeted by a series of shrugs followed by elbow nudges and laughter, I started to get a little concerned that I might’ve gotten it confused with another Greek phrase.
But then this old guy came up, grabbed my elbow, and led me to the other side of the hotel, where he walked into a room and shouted, “Ela! Yannis!” Then he shook his head and laughed as he walked away.
At this point I would love to be able to write that Yannis turned, took one look at me, and pulled me into his arms, holding me tight, refusing to let go. But that’s the stuff of romance novels and sappy late-night movies, not real life. Because the truth is, he took one long, lingering look, then turned back around and continued his work.
I stood there, taking in his tan, muscled back that was dripping with sweat, his strong defined arms, their muscles bulging and popping as he hammered a nail, the cutoff jeans that Amanda would totally make fun of (but that’s only because Amanda’s an idiot), and my throat was so hot and constricted, and my heart felt so heavy and sad, that I closed my eyes and willed him to look at me, having no idea what I’d say if he did.
I mean, what do you say to the guy you just might have loved if only you hadn’t been so shallow, so unsure of yourself, so afraid of letting him know? How do you explain how having the approval of people who weren’t really your friends, far outweighed anything you just might’ve felt? And how because of all that, you ran off to Mykonos to meet up with someone who turned out to be so completely and totally unworthy?
But then I reminded myself how I didn’t actually need any of those words.
Because, it’s not like he knew any of that.
Which meant there was no reason for me to confess, since it was now up to him to confess.
Because the fact is, he was hanging in the port with Maria, long before my ship even sailed.
He was the one laughing and talking and having a great old time.
He was the one who allowed her to touch his arm, as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.
Right there in broad daylight.
Right where I could see.
When just the night before he’d said he’d be working all through siesta, which was why he couldn’t go to the beach with me.
Which was pretty much the ultimate final thing that made me decide to get on that boat in the first place.
So if anyone had any explaining to do, it was he.
I opened my eyes, cleared my throat, and said, “Hey, Yannis? Um, hello? Are you trying to ignore me?” (Talk about stating the obvious.) Then I continued to stand there, watching as he pounded the heck out of another nail, acting as though I didn’t exist.
So then I cleared my throat again and went, “Hey, Yannis, listen, I know you’re mad, but I also know you can hear me, so I’d really appreciate it if you could just stop hammering, turn around, and give me the courtesy of ten minutes of your time.”
He kept pounding.
“Five minutes?” I said, knowing I was in no position to bargain since I was on his turf and would end up settling for whatever I could get.
More pounding.
“Fine. One minute and thirty seconds, final offer,” I said, unaware I’d been holding my breath until he set down the hammer and I gulped some air.
And even though he still refused to look at me, I knew I had to take advantage of the moment while it lasted, and with no time to waste, I took another deep breath and dove in. “Why won’t you talk to me?” I asked, my eyes searching the back of his head, willing him to turn around and acknowledge me once and for all. “Why’d you stop coming by and answering my calls? Are you mad at me? And if so, why? I mean, WHAT HAPPENED? Because I think I deserve an explanation. Because you can’t just string someone along, whisper I love you, then act like they don’t even exist,” I said, immediately growing all red faced and shaky, my heart crashing against my chest, as my mind raced back to the I LOVE YOU part, which I tortured myself by playing over and over again.
And when he finally turned to look at me, my eyes went straight for his, hoping to find them soft, warm, and caring, the same way I’d left them last week. Only now they were different, changed, alien even. Their cold, hard detachment providing all the answer I needed.
And then he shrugged. And then he shook his head and said, “Listen, Colby, you’re leaving in what? Two weeks?”
“Two and a half,” I said, my stomach going all twisty and turvy and awful.
“Okay, so we had some fun,
but now it’s over. You go back to your life, I go back to mine.” He shrugged. “Another summer is finished.”
“So that’s it?” I asked, my eyes stinging, not expecting to be brushed off and discarded so easily.
I mean, who was this guy? Did I ever even know him? Was I really so naïve to think I was anything more than just some stupid summer fling?
He shrugged.
“So that’s why you decided to dump me?” I said, amazed that I could even speak with the way my throat felt so hot and constricted. “Because the summer’s over? I mean, no long good-bye at the port? No postcards or e-mails? You just go cold turkey? Decide to get a head start and dump me two weeks early, without notice?” And then I tried to laugh, tried to make it sound as though I cared a lot less than it seemed. But in the end I didn’t fool anyone, because it came out sounding really false and lame.
But even after all that, even after my whole tirade, all he could manage in response was a shrug.
Which turned out to be a really bad choice.
I narrowed my eyes, placed my hands on my hips, took a deep breath, and went full steam ahead. “Because I’m actually kind of wondering if it’s maybe something else? I’m actually wondering if it might have something to do with the fact that I saw you at the port with Maria,” I said, the sweat transferring from my palms to my shorts, not sure where I was headed, but unable (unwilling?) to stop. “I saw you guys together, by the harbor, at the fish market, the same day you couldn’t be bothered to go to the beach with me because you said you had to work straight through siesta. And then the next thing I know, you stop coming over, won’t take my calls, and pretty much ignore me.”