Wayne ran a hand through his short brown hair and made faces to wake himself up. The engines whirred around him and he slowly grinned as an airhostess walked up to him. He felt like he was in an action-romance movie: the tortured hero, flying at 30,000 feet just so he could get the girl after beating up several bad guys.
Although his story wasn’t as fascinating as action movie star’s, but it felt strange enough to him that even the humming of the people around him felt like background effects. The bad guys that he had beaten up was a single thug who had stopped his taxi on the way to JFK airport and demanded that he hand over his luggage, money, and anything else of value. The driver, scared out of his wits, had started babbling as the thug pulled them out of the car with the force of a gun.
Working in the film industry, Wayne knew fake props when he saw them, or so he thought. He had knocked the gun out of the man’s hands and given him once square punch to the nose and squeezed the veins in his neck, making him pass out. He picked up the gun and had thrown it in a nearby trashcan when it went off. Luckily it had been facing several more trashcans and didn’t do much harm.
His airhostess was a short, plump woman in her fifties wearing too much lipstick, and his heroic seat was located right next to the bathroom in economy. True, he could’ve afforded to go for a more expensive seat, but it was the height of summer, and he had just hopped in the cab after a call to his best friend. Soon not to be best friend if he had anything to do with it.
She wasn’t his closest friend, but she meant the most to him. They had, of course, been experimental teenagers and chosen to spend time together doing more than just talking when he had still lived there. She didn’t live there anymore either, Wayne reminded himself. When they were younger, he had convinced himself it was nothing more than a fling. They had tried, of course to stay as close as possible, but things just didn’t work that way they wanted to, and they had drifted apart, until she had somehow grown the balls to call last night.
They still had two hours until they reached the little seaside African town where he had spent most of his life. Very much not the hero, Wayne ordered a bottle of wine and swigged straight from the bottle. He didn’t have any plans on what to do once he got to the airport. He would decide when he got there. He continued chugging from his bottle of wine as they flew over land and ocean while darkness fell.
Tara smiled at herself in the mirror, bright and early on Sunday morning. She had arrived a week ago to her old hometown and it felt good to be in the heat. There was a constant breeze and it smelled wonderful to be back. Perhaps it didn’t smell like a bouquet of roses, but it was wonderful all the same. There was a hustle and bustle outside the windows as men pushed around carts, selling their wares. She brushed her hair rhythmically to the music playing on the television where her mother was watching Indian television shows.
She couldn’t stop from smiling at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t believe how different the girl behind the mirror was. When she still lived here, she had hated looking in the mirror, criticizing every flaw. But now, she felt different, she was more confident. Being away from the small, enclosed community made her realize that being a little bit strange didn’t make her an outcast.
She put down her hairbrush and smoothed out her dress. She had owned that particular dress ever since she was in the tenth grade, and it was still her favorite. She simply loved how it reminded her of home. She skipped to her mother who was still on the phone with her friends and kissed her cheek.
“Bye, love you” she whispered, grabbing some money from her mom’s wallet and indicating that she had done. She grabbed her flip flops and her beach bag, and walked downstairs, waving to her security guards and she called her driver over. She told him where she was going and she sunk into the seat.
She looked out the window, drinking in the sights again. She passed her friends homes and her old school, and a feeling of nostalgia came over her. Tara missed her old school days when she could simply sit about and go to the beach whenever she wanted.
The pink cell phone on the seat beside Tara began to vibrate and play a song. Her driver sang along before she picked up and giggled, motioning for him to be quiet.
“Tara! Where are you? The boats about to leave!” Sang Serena from the other end of the line.
“I’m getting there, don’t worry about it.” Tara mumbled, chewing on her finger. In truth, she was only five minutes away, but the traffic had multiplied and erupted into hundreds of cars blocking her way. For the fiftieth time in her life, Tara wished she owned a motorbike, making it more convenient for her to get places.
When she finally got to the little inlet where the boats took off, the boat had already left, but her friends had left a note behind.
Tara! We’re sorry! We didn’t have enough
Credit to call, but um, the next boat’s going to be
At 12, it’s just half an hour! Wait it out! Please!
Love yous! Xx Joan, Serena, Tarek!
Tara sighed. She loved her friends but she never thought that they would just… ditch her like that! She used to be a generally calm person and sweet enough to not show her anger, but she had changed, and they just hadn’t realized. Tara frowned, letting the anger build up. She didn’t want to be shy, sweet, understanding Tara anymore. She wanted to be able to get angry if she wanted to. She growled slightly under her breath, a talent that had helped her out when she was trying to reject persistent guys.
She grabbed up her bag tightly under a shoulder and walked around a bit until she found the coffee shop. She ordered nothing, not being too fond of coffee, and wandered around again. She finally found herself at the ice cream store and picked out kiwi and strawberry icecream and had them mashed together in half scoops on her cone. She licked as she walked and began wondering about her conversation with Wayne.
She hadn’t talked to him in years, and she figured she should reconcile. She wanted to see him again since she was back, but it turned out he wasn’t coming back for the summer. She told him she was sorry, and she told him she was excited for being back with the beach, people and peace. He sounded slightly vague, but she supposed she was lucky he didn’t just hang up on her.
She smiled a little thinking about the times she had been here with other friends, over 18 years of her life. She remembered her class trips to the beach, just like this, a little less eventful and they didn’t leave anyone behind, but they were similar to this. It was fun and crazy, and she remembered her first kiss under the lantern near the bridge. Just this one place held so many memories for her.
Tara smiled to herself and sat down on the stone bench that was now under the lantern. She giggled a little bit to herself as the cold ice cream dripped on her dress, and wiped it up only to have more spill on her. She gave up, and held her cone up with tissue. She closed her eyes for a moment when she heard a voice.
“Hello, miss?” Tara flicked her eyes open to search for the owner of the husky, deep voice. There was a man standing to her left, looking out at people sitting and talking around the courtyard.
“Uh, yes?” She answered with hint of her childish awkwardness reappearing. She looked quickly away from the stranger, and stared at the ocean.
“You look wonderful, but I couldn’t help noticing that you’ve got ice cream all over your dress” The stranger still faced the courtyard, but there was an unmistakable smirk on his lips.
“ Are you new around here?”
“Not that it has anything to do with the ice cream all over you, but I’ve been gone for a while”
“Then I wouldn’t go judging new fashion.” I smiled slightly, knowing I was losing my argument, but it felt good to fight back anyway.
“Someone’s got a bite to match her bark” He laughed softly.
Tara smiled and glanced down at her watch, not dignifying his comment with a reply since she didn’t have one. It was 11.55 and her boat was supposed to be back soon. She fidgeted with the hem of her dress for a moment, and then picked her bag up again.
The stranger spoke again, “can I sit down for a moment, if you don’t mind?”
“Go ahead,” Tara smiled and got up, “I was just leaving”. She began to walk away, swishing her hips.
“Wait a second,” he brushed her shoulder with his fingers, “take this.” He slipped a napkin into her bag, brushing her back lightly.
