Chapter Nineteen

One large room. A vibrator lying on the carpeting in front of me, and one massive and embarrassing moment playing over and over in my mind.

Tears flood my face as I sit alone on the bed beside my belongings, not at all disappointed Arlie hightailed it out of here the moment I said to stop. I would have too if I were him. I bet he’s already on a boat back to civilization, and I’ll become the heroine of the dildo girl story he’ll tell his friends about in years to come.

How could he possibly leave this deserted island without a craft to do so? That would be with the use of a get-out-of-jail-free card, the very cards I was informed of before I came to Heart Key. “You can leave whenever you want. All you need to do is hold up your out card and say, ‘I’m leaving paradise’.” It’s what Susan said.

Where do I find one of these cards? Because I need to leave this place too. As it is, I can already imagine the headlines with my name on them.

Melinda Grant: Screw up. Fuck up. Everything that can go wrong will. Good or bad, she’ll find a way to make it worse.

Why did Arlie kiss me? Why did he have to do such a thing? I close the lid of my suitcase, zip it back up, and pull it off the bed.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

“I come bearing tissues. Can I come in?”

Arlie. What? Why?

“Please stop crying. I’m sorry,” he pleads.

He’s sorry? Why’s he sorry? He didn’t do anything wrong.

“I’m coming in. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

I turn my blurred sight to the partly opened door.

Arlie steps through the gap with a box of tissues held out in front of him. “I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was … well, you were about to cry. I didn’t want you to cry.” He pauses. “I made it worse.”

I shake my head. Is this guy a saint?

Arlie plucks a tissue from the box and waves it in retreat.

“You left.” My voice quivers.

“I did. I had to …” He clears his throat. “I had to fix myself.”

“Fix yourself?”

He points downwards. “A male thing.”

I suck my cheeks inwards. “Oh.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. It’s me who should be sorry.”

Arlie drops the box of tissues to the floor and marches towards me, closing the gap quicker than I can blink. His hands wrap around my body. His heart beats against my ear. He kisses the top of my hair.

And with this one display of pure affection, comfort, and kindness, my embarrassment drifts away, and my body relaxes.

“Do you want to put your suitcase back on the bed and unpack? I’ll leave you to do so on your own and wait downstairs at the table for you.”

I nod against his chest.

“I’m going to let you go now.”

Before he has a chance to step away, I snake my arms around his waist and hug him back. I hold Arlie as tightly as I do Chris when I’m upset. Arlie holds me as tightly as Chris does in return.

***

There’s a glass of water to my right and a plate of assorted cheese and crackers to my left. Arlie sits across from me with a binder open, reading through the rules and regulations of the island out loud.

When he gets to the part about the get-out-of-jail-free cards, I tense. Not long ago, I planned to whip one out so I could go home. Arlie, on the other hand, did not. I need to get a grip and relax more. I’m in paradise. With the first little hiccup, I planned to bolt. I can’t bolt. I can’t run from this island.

“The cards are in the back of the binder,” he says.

“Okay.”

“We need to open an envelope each day that will have a task for us. Today’s one is here.” He holds a blue envelope in the air.

“Okay.”

Arlie tears the paper. He pulls out a matching blue-coloured piece of paper from inside.

“Arlie and Melinda,” he reads. “Your first task is to take a canoe out to the middle of the ocean. Once there, you’re to share three things about yourself with each other, things which have meaning and significance to who you are as people. There’s nowhere to run. No place to hide. Be honest. Be understanding. Once completed, you’ll receive a prize.”

“A prize? Exciting.”

He nods.

“Just one thing: do you know how to canoe?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t.”

“You’ve never been on a canoe?”

I shake my head.

“Well, today you will be an expert.”

I half laugh.

“It also says in the letter that if you don’t want to complete this task you can use one of your out cards to abandon it, but we need to use them wisely, because once they’re gone you get no more.”

“How do these cards work exactly? You get one to leave, and two to remove yourself from tasks?”

“No. My understanding is you get three cards, and you can either use any of them to leave or to sit out a task.”

“Oh, okay. Are you going to use yours?”

“No.” He sounds surprised. “You?”

“No. I’ll give it a go.”

“Good. We better head out soon before it gets too late. We don’t want to be on the sea at dusk.”

“Why?”

“It’ll get dark quickly. And sharks.”

I gulp. “I see. Well, let’s start because I don’t want to be some sea creature’s dinner.”

Arlie smiles. “Bathers it is. There are towels in the bathroom.”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“There’s a door against the wall in my room off from the bed.”

“Hmm. I didn’t see one in mine.”

“Well, looks like you’ll be using my bathroom.” His voice rises. A smile touches the corner of his lips.

“You said there are heaps of other bathrooms in the house?”

“There is. But mine is the only one on our level.”

“Oh.”

“It’s up to you which one you use. I don’t mind if you use mine.”

“Okay.”

“Go get changed, and I’ll bring you down a towel. You brought bathers, yeah?”

I nod.

“We’ll meet back here in five?”

“Sounds good.”

***

I open the suitcase from where I shoved it in the wardrobe, still fully packed. I dig through my clothes in search of my black tankini and boardshorts. Turns out I no longer have either of these items in my luggage.

“Chris,” I groan. Not only has he put the vibrator he purchased for me in my bag, but he’s also removed all my bathing suits, bar the yellow bikini I swore to myself I wouldn’t wear. His death will be the first task I complete when I get back to Melbourne.

I stand inside the closet to change and make sure I’m facing the wall.

I must not let these cameras see me naked.

Once I tie the back of the two-piece into place, I make my way into the bedroom and nervously pace back and forward. There’s no mirror in here. What if I look ridiculous?

I wrap my hands around my naked belly, and cross one thigh in front of the other to hide my curves, curves I couldn’t remove even if I was to exercise. I have a naturally curvaceous frame. Big boobs, wider hips, chunkier thighs … I’ve been like this since I started puberty at twelve years old. How do I cover these unattractive qualities? How does a girl like me impress a guy like Arlie who’s cover model material? I can’t.

The kiss we shared earlier will be as far as our romance goes. I know this; he probably does, too.

“Melinda,” Arlie calls with an air of excitement. I freak out. I jump on the spot, then hop from foot to foot in an un-coordinated jig, hightailing it into the wardrobe. I dig through my case and pull out a strappy, casual white dress. I’m quick to rip it over my head before I walk in a circle like a dog chasing its tail in search of the sunglasses I wore on the yacht. I can’t find them. Did I leave them behind?

I dig through my stuff again, this time in search of the spare pair I know I placed in there. I find the thick black frames and slip them onto my head.

The white hat Conrad gifted me still lies on the ground near the bedroom door. I dip down and retrieve it on my way out.

“I’m here,” I puff. I’m flustered. It’s obvious. How do you turn fluster off?

“Towels, water bottles, and sunscreen.” Arlie nods toward the backpack slung over his shoulder. “Can you think of anything else we’ll need?”

“No,” I say, shifting my eyes from his bare chest to the waistband of his boardshorts, which hang from his hips in just the right way.

“Hat. I need a hat.” He turns on his heel and jogs down to his room.

“Hat, sure, hat,” I mutter to myself feeling self-conscious, nervous, and very intimidated.

“Ready?” he asks, jogging towards me wearing a black baseball cap which match his boardies.

“I am,” I lie.

“I can’t wait to get out in the surf. How about you?”

“Super excited,” I lie again.

“Great. After you.” He waves me in front of him.

I place my sunglasses over my eyes and put the hat on my head. I hate the surf. I hate bikinis. I hate Chris right now, but most of all, I hate everything about myself and the way my body continues to betray me.