Macey tightened the straps of her backpack and waved at our driver, who had been snacking on yucca chips in the corner. We trailed behind him like two kids following their dad.
“People do bad things,” said Macey through a hardened mouth. “It doesn’t mean they’re intrinsically bad.”
“I usually don’t stick around to find out.”
The warm Aruba air hit as we walked out of the automatic doors of the airport. We trailed through a parking lot until arriving at a small white van that would take us to Opal Serenity.
I opened the back door for Macey. Because that’s what fake boyfriends do. And real ones, I guess.
She hummed as she got comfortable in the back seat. “I don’t think that’s true,” she said. “A man who drops out of Cornell to take care of his sister doesn’t sound like a flaky person to me.”
The car roared to life, and we pulled out of the parking spot. Fortunately, the driver couldn’t seem to care less about our conversation. Or he wasn’t fluent in English. “Maybe you need to get your ears checked, Scribbles.”
“Scribbles?”
I shrugged. “You’re always scribbling down notes in your notebook.”
“There’s nothing wrong with old-fashioned notebooks. Especially when it’ll help me make this weekend a great trip. Minus the fake dating thing.” Macey flipped to a to-do list in her notebook. Pictures to take, people to talk to, articles to write. “My column is spiking, and if I can get my boss to let me publish what I want, I think I can walk out of this as a mid-tier travel writer, at least.” She checked off the first item: fly to Aruba. “I’m sure everything else will go smoothly.”
Which would, inevitably, jinx a million other things into going wrong, but I wisely kept my mouth shut.
9
MACEY
The Burrow Bitches
Macey: IS THIS TOO MUCH BOOB
Ariadne: Yes but I like it
Kira: Maybe yes for a professional event
Britney: no
Britney: give the people what they want
We spent the rest of the car ride in silence, me mourning my lost luggage and Noah scrolling through Instagram. Soon the driver made his final turn. The resort grounds unfurled in front of us, and the only adjective that came to mind waslavish.It was massive, sprawling across well-groomed lawns and lush landscaping. Not to mention, direct access to a beach with crystal-clear turquoise waters.
Hundreds of lanterns dangled from the trees, swayinggently in the breeze. No doubt it turned into a rom-com set after dark. Calming music filtered through speakers and blended in perfectly with the sounds of the waves. Next to me, Noah’s eyes were bright and wide.
When we pulled up to the front, a valet attendant appeared to collect our luggage. Well, Noah’s luggage. I swung on my backpack and met Noah’s eyes over the hood of the car. We must be thinking the same thing:holy shit. I took a deep inhale. It smelled delicious here, like freshly baked bread and flowers all in one.
Noah handed over his luggage to the attendant, who smiled and pointed to the doors. “Check-in is that way.”
We thanked the attendant.
“Wow.” Noah sounded how I felt. In awe. “Look at that caryatid.”
I squinted at him. “What?”
“The sculpted female figure over there,” he said like I should obviously know this.
“Uh-huh. And that’s the first thing you notice why?”
“Because it’s pretty and functional!” He grinned, clearly proud of his architectural crush.
“Right, because that’s what I’m looking for in life: beauty and structural support.”
