"Yes, I think every guy from high school will agree that you are an excellent ignorer. But we aren't talking about them. We are talking about?—"
"Max Butcher. See." I shrug and smile with gullibleenlightenment. "I can say his name again. It's fine. Toni, I know what I have to do. I'll keep it professional. I'll go for bike rides during the day. I'll visit villages, temples, and fricking volcanoes, and I'll be fine."
He pointedly lifts up my new toffee bathing suit. Between its spaghetti straps and thin crisscrossing wrap-around midriff, the suit resembles a few pieces of string rather than bathers.
"It covers everything," I state adamantly.
His eyes widen. "I don't think you should be going."
Snatching the one-piece from him, I force a grin. "You underestimate me, my friend."
"No, Golden Girl, I don't. I estimate you. I estimate you right at the point of blinding, young, irrational obsession. That's my estimate."
"Well, um," I stammer. "Get a different ruler."
"Your comebacks are sad. I can't believe we're friends sometimes. Listen, you haven't heard from him in nearly two weeks. And the last time you saw him, he crushed you, calling you a silly little girl. Just leave it, darlin’."
I begin to pace around the room, riffling through cupboards and drawers that I know have nothing in them I need or want. "I was a silly little girl," I whisper into the closet.
Toni sighs. "Cassidy."
"I was." Stiffening, I turn to face him. The back of my eyes heat and my lower lip threatens to tremble. "I thought I could relate to his world. I thought that being Konnor's sister meant that we weren't so different because I'd known hardship too. I'd thought that meant he could let me in, but I was wrong. I know nothing about pain. I know nothing about responsibility. I know nothing about violence or torment. I know nothing about anything, just like he'd said."
"Cassidy."
"No. I'm no longer an asexual pigeon, Toni." My voice cracks. "I've become very aware of my body and my sexuality since being with Max. I'm confident enough to wear something like that now," I say, pointing at the swimsuit. "It has nothing to do with him being there."
He stares at me with furrowed brows. "I don't think you should be going." Sighing, he adds, "But in the end, this is your life. If you want to be a glutton for the punishment that is Max Butcher, then fine. Flaunt your fanny around Bali, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t warn you against it." He pauses. "No, seriously, what kind of friend would I be? Because I'm one more Max Butcher altercation away from locking you in a tower and guarding you with a dragon."
Laughing a little, I shake my head and finish packing. With a few more sarcastic comments, Toni drives me to the airport and waves me off at the gate.
Being only five foot three and petite comes in handy when flying on a small jet. Curling my knees up until they're touching the cold metal curve of the plane, I peer out the window as the urban patchwork of the District is replaced by the flat red dirt of the Australian outback. The plane will head north across the Kimberley and Indian Ocean before setting down in Bali in several hours. Flick, Stacey, and the others are all on Jimmy Storm's private jet, which is scheduled to land a few hours after mine.
As the Kimberley pans beneath me, I open the Indonesian language book I'd purchased in year twelve and practise simple terms of conversation. By the time we touch down at Denpasar Airport, I've learned the Bali words for 'thank you' and 'please,' as well as the numbers one through ten and numerous greetings.
Selamat pagi.
Terima kasih.
After grabbing my luggage, I step out of the airport and the humidity cloaks me like a blanket I can't kick off. My brow immediately moistens. The thick air smells of tea leaves and rotting fruit and spices. It's exotic, nice, and gross all at once. Bali is somehow both bright and hazy. The heat brings a kind of lethargy with it. Of laziness. Of leisure. Of romance. It's moist and hot. I want to strip off and swim naked in a pool.
A nice man named Atu picks me up and drives me two hours north to Ubud. As he navigates through the chaotic sea of motorbikes and scooters, I watch the rice fields and dense, lush greenery of this tropical island stream past the window.
"Terima kasih," I say, thanking Atu when we reach our destination. After waving goodbye, I wheel my suitcase towards a lovely Balinese lady, who is wrapped in the most beautiful purple dress.
She shows me to the villa, which is carved into the side of a mountain and situated along the outskirts of a luxury resort boasting two pools with swim-up bars and two restaurants. The villa itself has its own access point with a private pool and outdoor kitchen.
The fridge calls my name, so I pull out a Bintang beer, pop the cap, and have a few mouthfuls. I stand still for a moment in the empty villa before taking another sip. Then I wander around the rooms, reading the names on the doors: Flick and Stacey, Bronson, Max, Cassidy, Xander, and Clay.
Walking into my room, I stare at the double bed, beautiful wooden furniture, and hand-carved ornaments. I take another sip and smile. I should jump on Max's bed and scruff up the blankets a bit. I don't, but the thought makes me happy. My room has a private ensuite with walls, but no roof. It's decorated with grey tiles, a single bamboo chair, andenough foliage to make it feel as if I'll be showering outside despite being completely private.
I place my beer on the bedside table before grabbing my luggage and tossing it onto the bed. Riffling through the clothes, I pull out my new toffee bathing suit. I strip off and squeeze into it. It's one-piece; the bottom connects to the top by thin bands. The seam of the panties cuts high, displaying the swell of my hips. The bands wrap three times around my belly and ribs. The top is a halter neck with a plunging neckline. It's pretty.
Toni was wrong, I tell myself as I slide my toes into my flip-flops. I'm not wearing these bathers for Max. I'm wearing these bathers because I like the way they make me feel and I don't care what that means. I grab my towel bag and bronze-tinted aviators and meander towards the main resort pool.
Kicking my flip-flops off, I lie on a sunbed by the pool and stare through my sunglasses at the brochures I picked up at reception. The sun and humid air caress nearly every inch of my body, creating beads of moisture on my skin. Strangers splash around me, laughing. Beautiful girls lie baking in the sun. Lovely Balinese people shuffle around, delivering cocktails and food, as well as offering towels and other comfort items. I focus on my book.
"Cassidy!" I hear my sister's voice screech a second before I'm in her arms. "You'll never believe what just happened."
