As Trey and I pick at one another’s lunches at the restaurant on the beach, I tell him about all the activities Max and I did throughout the week.

“So, the sky ride thing wasn’t all you’d hoped it would be?”

“It just made me realize what a tourist trap this island is. So many cruise ships and boats and it just felt claustrophobic. I wanted to immediately return to our little slice of the island. We’re spoiled at the Ritz,” she admits. “It feels so much more private and serene.”

“You mean we’re not all alone here?” he asks, teasing. I shake my head. “I don’t see anyone but you.” He picks up the back of my hand and kisses it. Upon glancing behind me, he changes his response. “And Max. I see you and Max.”

I turn around abruptly to see my best friend sitting alone at a table. “Where’s Callen?” It had been three hours since I texted Max. “Have you seen Callen with him?”

“No, but he just sat down.”

“Let’s invite him over.”

“Really?” he asks. “I thought you wanted this to be our day.”

“It’s just lunch.” The waiter converses with our friend as he picks up the other place setting. Max puts on his sunglasses and takes a sip of water. “And look. They just picked up the other silverware. That’s a table for one. No. We can’t let him sit there alone.” Before Trey can argue anymore, I get up and go over to Max.

“What’s going on?” I ask him, sitting in the chair next to him tentatively.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m having lunch, Zany. I’m eating my emotions. That’s what’s going on.”

“Where is he?”

“My answer has not changed since before… only my tone has, because now I’m really angry.”

“Have you called him?” He glares at me. His lenses aren’t dark enough to hide the look from me. “No answer?”

“No phone. He left it in our room, that dick.”

“Max… what happened?”

“I left him in the room around eight-thirty. He’d already had a beer and a glass of whiskey. He made his choice, and I made mine. There’s broken glass and sticky, brown liquor all over the patio floor if you want to see the evidence.”

“You broke it?” I ask, hesitant.

“I needed to make a statement.”

“That must have gotten through to him.”

“Well, his reaction is what I would expect from someone who didn’t give a shit about their boyfriend.”

“He loves you.”

“His way of showing it could use some work.”

“…and yours, too… maybe? Did you have to break the bottle?”

“Yes, Zany,” he says, matter-of-fact, but I know he regrets doing it. “Yes, I did.”

“Come have lunch with us,” I urge him.

“No, I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Okay,” he says, getting up and following me to our table with his water in hand. “Hey,” he says to Trey, exchanging their familiar, familial handshake that they created years ago. “You didn’t grow fins and gills from all that pool time?”

“Bygones,” Trey says. “I’ve apologized to Zai. Do I need to apologize to you, too?”

“You are part of the reason Callen felt like it was okay to fuck around in that pool all day and night.”

“Interesting choice of words…”

“Clearly no one’s been fucking–yet. You know what I mean. If you had set a better example and been a better boyfriend to Zany, he probably would have followed suit. I’m just sayin’.”

“Callen’s his own man, Max. You do know that, right?”

“I do know that. You guys and your friends and your alcohol have been priority number one this whole week.”

Trey nods his head. “I see that now. We kind of thought you both were having fun hanging out, too. I know Zai doesn’t really like all the guys… and I know you don’t know them too well. And I know you wanted to do excursions and things. Callen and I really wanted to relax and cut loose–”

“I would have much rather relaxed and cut loose with Callen–no offense, Zany.”

“None taken,” I tell him.

“Max, all right, I’m sorry. I wish you’d said something–”

“We shouldn’t have had to say anything!” he yells.

Trey sighs and looks up at the multi-colored umbrella over us. “Fine. I wish we’d had less to drink and picked up on the social queues you were obviously sending us. Once you get started at that cabana bar down there, they keep pouring. We were relaxed and just trying not to think about anything that stressed us out.”

“Implying that we were stressors?”

“Max, stop reading into his words, okay? He apologized. He’s not who you’re mad at,” I remind him.

“Sorry, Trey,” he says. The waiter swings by and takes his order: shrimp lettuce wraps. They’re delivered quickly, obviously an easy item to prepare.

“Max, what has been your favorite thing we’ve done?”

“Snorkeling in Turtle Cove, I think. The water here is so fucking clear, it’s like you can see for miles. But those turtles were fascinating. And there were rays, too.”

“Yeah, I remember that from when my parents brought us here,” Trey says. “This is where I got my diving certification when I was thirteen. It was incredible.”

“We were going to do that this week,” I say to him, my disappointment evident. I’d taken all the coursework. I just had to do the open water portion.

“Max could have done all of that with you. He’s certified,” he says, realizing immediately it’s not what he should have said. “I wish we had done that, though. You’re right. I’m sorry, Zai.”

“Maybe next summer.”

“Sure. That sounds like a plan.”

“Maybe just the two of us.” I take his hand in mine and he leans in to kiss me.

“Should I go now? Is this, like, happening now?” Max interrupts.

Trey picks up a cherry tomato and throws it at him, hitting him square in the forehead without even aiming.

“You do not want to start a food fight at the Ritz, my friend,” he warns as he takes a small shrimp from his plate.

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to, uh…”

“Hit me?”

“Well…” Trey hedges and laughs.

“Throw it?”

“I mean, I did, but–”

“Take it and we’re even.”

“Fine. Your aim is shit anyw–” Somehow, Max manages to get the shrimp right into Trey’s mouth. “That’s really good,” he says, chuckling and wiping his chin. “I should have ordered that. Your aim’s better than I remember.”

“It’s been awhile since we’ve played.”

“True.”

“I don’t mean to break up the bromance,” I say, “but let’s try to figure out where Callen may be… for Max’s sake?” I look to Trey for answers.

“Where have you looked?” he asks Max.

“The pool and hot tubs. The volleyball courts. This part of the beach. Our room, of course.”

“We hit a few of the bars inside earlier this week. You may check those. And the gym. As stupid as it sounds, we’ve been trying to sweat out the alcohol as best as we can and keep up our workouts. Not the best idea, now that I think about it–using that equipment drunk–but it’s seemed fine at the time. We’ve always had each other as spotters,” he explains.

“You’re not there now, though,” I remind him. “Could you maybe text the other guys?”

“They are at the pool,” Max says. “I asked where he was. They said he told them he was spending the day with me.”

“Maybe he’s planning something special. Maybe he went shopping for something.”

“That’s your romantic-girl-brain talking. We’re guys. We don’t do that shit.”

“Trey bought me flowers.”

“Because he knows how your romantic-girl-brain thinks. Callen and I don’t have to accommodate one another that way.”

“Well, maybe you should,” I say to him simply.

Max shakes his head, essentially brushing off my suggestion. “So, other bars in the hotel and the gym. Nowhere else?”

“He said he was going to get souvenirs for some people, so maybe the shops. I’d check your room, again, too. He’s probably going to be worn out.”

“I left him a note on his phone. I told him to call me… and I told him I was sorry about the whiskey. I’d offer to replace it, but I don’t have that kind of money.”

Trey sighs. “Want me to have a bottle sent to your room?”

Max considers it. “No. I don’t want to replace it here. Not now. It’s causing too many problems.”

“Okay.”

“I mean… do you think he has a problem?” He looks at Trey for a response.

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“He has been drinking a lot recently. I know you noticed it back home–we talked about it. And since we got here, he’s had twice as much as I’ve had every day, at least. I’ve tried to get him to slow down, but he likes the buzz.” He pauses for a moment, then sighs. “I hadn’t told you this, but he’d been bringing a bottle of something to school some days for the past few months. I mean, he’d normally just save it for practice after school, but still. It was weird.”

“Did your coach know?” I ask.

“No. It looked like he was just drinking from a steel water bottle, you know?”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Max asks.

“I didn’t want to mess shit up with you guys. I kept urging him to stop. Tried to remind him where you come from.”

I try hard to remember those days when my mom would come home drunk, or wouldn’t come home at all. I was so young, and my brothers hid so much from me back then. I was blind to most of it, but Will and Jon both suffered for years because of my mother’s alcoholism. Callen has heard plenty of stories. It makes me livid to know that Trey’s reminded him of these facts and he still keeps drinking.

“Thanks for trying,” I say simply, finding a 20-dollar bill in my wallet and setting in on the table. “I’m going to go try to find him.”

“Max?” I call out to him as he starts to walk away.

“Yeah, Zany?”

“If we see him, we’ll let him borrow one of our phones.”

“Thanks. Oh… and, uh… have fun.” He winks at me, making me blush. Trey waves goodbye to his friend, but squeezes my hand. I look up at him and smile.

“Well? What do you want to do next?” he asks me.

“I don’t know,” I say shyly. “Do you want to go back to the room? Maybe watch a movie?”

“Sure! I saw the new Avenger’s movie was playin–”

“A romantic movie?”

“But I know what Captain America does to you,” he teases me. I lean into him, kissing his lips as I trace a star onto his chest.

“You are my Captain America and you know it.”

“Is that really why you like him?” he asks me, sitting up straight and grinning. “Because I dressed up as him for Halloween last year?” I nod slowly. “I had no idea. I thought it was the actor.”

“You’re so much hotter than he is.” I move my hand to his thigh and trace another star. His eyes are locked with mine.

“I’m getting hotter,” he whispers next to my cheek. “I definitely want to go back to the room. I’ll do anything you want when we get there.” His mouth touches a spot on my neck beneath my ear.

“Ahem.” Our waiter stands a few paces back until we look up. “Mr. Holland, Miss Mishra. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Trey looks at me to confirm that I’m finished. “No, thank you. If you can just charge everything to the room and…” He picks up the twenty Max left and hands it to him. “A tip.”

“Thank you. Have a good afternoon.”

“You, as well.”