With You All the Way by Cynthia Hand

Author:Cynthia Hand
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2021-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

24

Over the next few hours I voluntarily throw my body down every available slippery surface at the Hilton Waikoloa. I gave Mom a hard time about always assuming that I’m on duty for childcare, but I am grateful to be hanging out with Abby and not alone to stew in the problems of my messed-up life. I have to spend almost every minute trying to keep my little sister’s head above the water.

This, too, feels like a metaphor somehow.

Sometime after lunch Abby gets tired enough to sit down for a few minutes. I reapply our sunscreen and then lean back in one of those white plastic lounge chairs that line the pools and close my eyes, feeling the sun soak into me.

My mind starts to wander back to the situation with Mom, so I deliberately choose to think about Nick instead.

Nick. The way he equates having sex with having a cup of tea. So funny.

And even funnier, our sex plan. Just the words sex plan cheer me up substantially, not because sex is such a cheerful subject, but because the idea sounds too ridiculous to be true. Nick Kelly and Ada Bloom—arguably the two least-cool individuals on the entire Big Island—are going to have sexual intercourse. It’s glorious, in a silly yet appealing way. It’ll be a good, distracting adventure.

Speaking of adventures. “How about we try paddleboarding?” I ask Abby. Paddleboarding with Abby is not exactly what I’ve been picturing, but at this point I’ll take what I can get.

She doesn’t answer.

I open my eyes. She’s sprawled on her stomach over the next lounge chair, using the end of one curly wet braid to drip patterns on the concrete.

“Abby?”

“No, thanks,” she says lightly. “I need some quiet time now. Maybe even a nap.”

My sister is a strange five-year-old.

“But it will be so peaceful and quiet when we go paddleboarding. Just picture it, Abs, you and me on a paddleboard in the middle of the lagoon, water lapping at our feet, the sun on our faces, the wind in our hair.”

“We could tip over,” Abby says. “I could drown.”

“You’ll wear a life jacket. Plus, you’re the best swimmer I’ve ever seen. You’re like a baby shark.” I try a few lines of the song, but she doesn’t go for it.

She sits up and crosses her arms. “I can swim in a pool, yes. But the lagoon is like the ocean. Dark and deep, with monsters under there.”

“What monsters?”

“Giant squid,” she informs me gravely.

“The lagoon is not the ocean,” I argue. “Water is water, Abby. We’ll be fine. There are no monsters, I promise. I’ll be right there with you.”

“No, thanks.”

“If you were going to drown, you would have done it already,” I say. “And then . . . I would go paddleboarding.”

Her eyes widen. “I can’t believe you just said that! I’m going to tell Mom.”

“You go right ahead.”

She jumps up. “Look!” She points to where, not too far away, a couple has just gotten out of one of those white rope hammocks.

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