Authors: Pepper Ellison
Sunday 23
rd
February 1.47am
—Waikiki Yacht Club—
Oops. Sorry! Meant to hit delete.
Anyhow, you didn’t see me, but I stood around the corner and drank heavily and watched you totally shark all of those yacht club boys. You did that thing when they’d be about to take their shot and you’d swing your hips just a little bit and they had no chance of making the pocket after that.
So I’m not worried about you anymore. You’re doing just fine. You’re not missing me at all.
Anyway, I’m kind of rambling now, and the cab is pulling up, but it was great to see you looking happy.
And also a kick in the guts.
But a good one. You can kick me in the guts whenever you want.
Now I’m trying really hard not to send this message.
Fuck it. I’m sending it.
Sunday 23
rd
February 1.48am
—Waikiki Yacht Club—
DON’T READ THAT LAST MESSAGE!
It was completely inappropriate.
Sunday 23
rd
February 8.22am
—Totally Brewed Café—
OK. It’s morning and I have a headache, and I’m sitting here at the café by the water. You and I have been here on this bench - you drinking your latte when it’s a million degrees, me having my lovely, icy Fat Yak they bring in for me specially.
No Fat Yak this morning though. Never. Again.
It’s a beautiful day. Lachie is here with me, finishing a milkshake. Sucking on the end of it so it makes that hideous slurping noise. And he stinks. (Remember that about him. He’s handsome, but he’s a player, and he stinks.)
In a moment I’m going to pick him up and hurl him into the waves. He’s watching me over the top of his metal cup. Grinning milk moustache. I can see his quads flexing, waiting for it. He loves a wrestle, does our Lachie. He has serious martial arts training. If he really wanted to pin me, he’d have no trouble.
I’m assuming you read it.
The plain fact is that I do miss your company, since we’re not instructor and student any more, and I think we could have a go at being friends.
Do you think we could be like, platonic? I mean in the classical sense. We could totally nut out metaphysics between us. Hammer out the merits of divine madness. Don’t you think?
Would you be interested in that? You have obviously found a real life use for trigonometry. Come down by the sea and sit with me and drink latte with your pinky out. We can scratch out equations in the sand.
But if you could wear a kaftan or a toga or something, that would be very helpful with maintaining the platonicness on my part.
Sunday 23
rd
February 9.26am
—Fitness Center at Waikiki Yacht Club—
We can have a go at being friends. I’ve missed hanging out with you, too. Been up to anything good?
Amelia’s Four-Day Update: 1.) We moored at Hilo for a night. I did this moonlight volcano hik
e
with my mom. Molten lava. Very cool. 2.) I made some friends. Konani’s daughter is my age. Cristina. We drove around Honolulu last night and ate breakfast at midnight. And then there’s this girl Jacqueline from Boston five slips down. She’s twenty-one. I’m still trying to figure out if she’s for real or just putting on her Desperate-For-Vacation-Friends face. 3.) My surfing—and I’m using the term loosely—is in a state of de-evolution. Not having you next to me is a problem. I’m back to ankle-wading. Wah! It’s okay, though. I’ll keep trying. (Plus, I’m doing my plyometrics and cardio! I just made it through fifty minutes of Xtreme Zumba without puking!)
Anyhowww...if you want, maybe we could meet up at Coconut Bay? They have that dance club, Pineapple Pete’s? It has pool tables in the back. Pinball and ping pong. Lachie said you don’t like it there. That it’s a resort kiddie bar with under-21 wristbands, tourists and whatever. But I can’t get into the Blue Volcano or any of the places you and Lachie go, so maybe you can make an exception this once. Monday is all-ages night. (You can still drink, though.) Also, probably not, but my mom and step-dad
might
be there. They’re good about not lurking on me, so it’s not like we’d be chaperoned in the classical sense. It’s a big resort. They’ll probably be in the jazz lounge so you wouldn’t have to meet them or anything. But it might keep the friends thing in check knowing they’re on the premises? ;)
About last night’s table run. Truth be told, I was having a bit of a hot streak. I’m pretty good, but not usually THAT good. Apparently, I do spectacular things when there’s a fire under my arse. This one snot, I forget his name, something-something-the-third, made a comment about being beaten by a girl. I was pulling out all the stops and not about to lose after that. A little swing of the hips was in order. Something-something-the-third and crew apparently underestimated how much time I’ve had on my hands to shoot pool by myself over the years. (We have a game room back home. I’m also proficient with a dart...I’ll take your freaking eye out...)
So, if you want to come tomorrow night we can sit on the beach out back of Pineapple Pete’s and be platonic. Then I’ll show you some trick shots at the table. I do a wicked 15 ball carom.
P.S. I had to google “kaftan.” I’m not wearing that ever.
Sunday 23
rd
February 10.03am
—Fitness Center at Waikiki Yacht Club—
Also, there’s a car service that comes with our club membership. The drivers are salaried, no tipping allowed. It can pick you up if you ever want to come over my way again. It’s not a limo, more just a shuttle thing.
Sunday 23
rd
February 10.07am
—Foodland—
Coolies. I’ll wear a kaftan. One of us should be in a kaftan.
Sunday 23
rd
February 10.11am
—Fitness Center at Waikiki Yacht Club—
Maybe you can wear an American accent, too. That might help with maintaining the platonicness on my end.
Monday 24
th
February 9.16pm
—Pineapple Pete’s at Coconut Bay Resort—
Thanks for bringing me a play date. She’s cute!
Monday 24
th
February 9.17pm
— Pineapple Pete’s at Coconut Bay Resort—
I didn’t bring her. She glommed onto my plans last minute.
Monday 24
th
February 9.18pm
— Pineapple Pete’s at Coconut Bay Resort—
You don’t think Jacqueline’s cute? Surely we can talk about that now that we’re just friends.
Monday 24
th
February 9.20pm
—Pineapple Pete’s at Coconut Bay Resort—
If you’re into the fake boobs, fake nails, fake soul Barbie thing, then yes, she’s a real doll.
Monday 24
th
February 9.25pm
—Pineapple Pete’s at Coconut Bay Resort—
And older.
Monday 24
th
February 9.28pm
— Pineapple Pete’s at Coconut Bay Resort—
What? I’m just making an observation. Maybe you didn’t notice since you’re spending your whole time bending over the table for Lachie.
Monday 24
th
February 9.55pm
— Pineapple Pete’s at Coconut Bay Resort—
Send another Shirley Temple over here and it’s going in your face!
Tuesday 25
th
February 7.29am
—Waikiki Yacht Club—
Well, that went well.
I’m assuming you’re still sleeping, probably face down in a ditch somewhere.
I don’t know why you have to be such an asshole. There’s nothing going on with Lachie and me. Not like that. We’re friends, like you and I are friends, and we text sometimes. He and Olaf dropped by the club one day to deliver custom boards to some members and they wanted a tour of the boat so I gave it to them. Then we went over to Jac’s boat and played Cards Against Humanity for five seconds until they realized there was no beer and left.
You brought Lachie on purpose last night and were a shit to me from the time you walked through the door. Why’d you even come if you didn’t want to spend time with me and have a nice night? It’s like you were trying to trip me and Lachie up in something, prove some big point to us both. I assumed you knew that I still talk to him. I assumed that he knew I’m talking to you, too. You’re best friends and work and live together, right? Do you two not communicate at all? But, now that the confusion is all cleared up, maybe you can both chill out about it.
Tuesday 25
th
February 7.35am
—Waikiki Yacht Club—
Also, I just have to add that for someone who’s engaged and trying to reform his man-whoring ways, you were awfully handsy out there on the dance floor with Jacqueline. You’ll be glad to know she’s quite smitten and talked about you the whole ride home. “Aussie Dreamboat...his body, those eyelashes...omg, blah, blah, blah...” Unlike you, I did not invite a friend in order to mess up the evening. Our parents were having dinner together over at the Japanese steakhouse on the other side of the resort and when she found out I was in the nightclub, she came running over. Thanks for pumping her full of Fat Yak all night and then handing that hot, slurring mess off to me. I could have smacked that shit-eating grin right off your face. She puked in the shuttle and I broke a good heel dragging her ass back through the marina. It’s a far freaking walk from the shuttle drop to the boat slips and she’s heavier than she looks. She’ll be calling you for surf lessons. Good luck with that. Anyhow, thanks for the great evening! Can’t wait to do it again!
Tuesday 25
th
February 8.04am
—Waikiki Yacht Club—
And from now on, if I want a Kody-Amelia buffer, I’ll be bringing Cristina, the voice of reason.
Tuesday 25
th
February 8.48am
—Koa Boxing Club & Gym—
First of all, in that original lesson that we had together, I was a stranger that you met on the internet, and you came in a bikini and got into the water with me and you pulled right up to the bumper with no hesitation at all.
I didn’t look any more than I had to, and I didn’t touch you except where it was professionally required, so it’s pretty fcking offensive that, now that you know me better, you feel the need to bring an armed guard in case I get too ‘handsy’ with you.
There is no doubt that I have my flaws, but you don’t need to bring Step Daddy, or Cristina, or anyone else to protect your virtue from me.
You might think it’s a joke, but I’m actually a feminist. I think girls should have the same opportunities. I think they should earn the same and I think women’s sport should attract more sponsorship. I also think that women should be free to sleep with who they want to without all of the associated obligation or guilt. Because sex is great, and if you’re doing it right it can be the most exquisite way that you can honour someone and make them feel beautiful. And generally speaking, I am happy to oblige.
Well, I was before I went back home for Christmas, anyway. All the times I got slapped it was because they came back for more, and I said no.
You’re just not listening to me when I say that Lachlan doesn’t hold the same principles. He called dibs on you last night as if you were the last slice of pizza.
So you’re either not listening to what I am saying, or you want to be treated like that. Lots of women do, and it makes me really sad because it means they don’t even know their own value. I see the women that go for him, and while I know they enjoy it at the time (the walls here are pretty thin) I see them in the morning, and they don’t look like they’ve been honoured.
He’s my mate, but he’s not a good guy. He’s not for you.
You’re not that girl. I think you already know you’re something special. Don’t let someone make you feel ordinary. Not even me.
I’m sorry about the Shirley Temples. I was just teasing. I didn’t realise just how mad it was making you. My chest is still all sticky with it. Between that and the germs from this disgusting gym, I’m toxic.