Island Vibes

7. strong breeze

I rolled my eyes and reluctantly took the broom that he held out to me. "Well, I didn't sign up for this, okay?" I puffed out a breath, looking around me at the decrepit interior and wondering what was even underneath all of the dust and grime.

I wasn't an optimist, but I knew my parents must have bought the place for a reason. It couldn't be a total trash heap.

"Whether you signed up or not," Noah grinned, "it's gotta be done." He shrugged cheerily and then pointed in the direction of sunlight and freedom and not having to clean up. For a second, I thought he was going to leave me with all of the literal dirty work, and I readied myself to yell at him, but luckily that didn't seem to be his plan. "I'm gonna go grab all the stuff from my van," he nodded, already on his way out.

I looked at the broom in my hands and then down at my outfit. A hit of resentment ran through me – Noah could've definitely better warned me this was what our first real task was. I let the bristles drop to the floor and languidly pushed the broom around, sweeping up what seemed to be the mess Noah had made getting the ceiling in order.

I spent a minute or two clearing a patch in the middle of the floor and hating how it looked almost exactly the same as it did before I'd started, but then the light flickered away as Noah reappeared in the doorway with his arms stacked high with plastic baskets. Inside, the baskets held an array of cleaning supplies – so that was the vague stuff he'd gone to collect from his van – and two big, thick magazines were stacked amongst everything.

"A little light reading," he joked, as he clattered everything down on the old countertop and separated the two magazines.

I frowned and came closer, only then realising they were catalogues. One was filled with paint swatches and wallpaper prints, and the other with carpet colors.

Noah pressed a fingertip to one of the magazine's covers, underlining the name Kalani's. "This is the best place on the island for this kinda junk," he explained. "F'you order some stuff by the end of the week, it should be here Monday."

I nodded, smirking at the grimy fingerprint Noah left on the magazine. At least while I was stuck working in this dust-filled shack, he was, too.

As I started sweeping up for real, Noah set about opening all of the windows to help keep the air moving. The last one he went to open, the biggest one, wouldn't budge, and I stopped working for a moment to watch and laugh. 

Alright, mature and responsible was still my mantra, but... I could definitely still make fun of him and subtly check out the way his upper-arms were flexing as he tried to shove the window open with force, right?

"Not strong enough?" I asked, frowning and pouting at him teasingly.

"Guess I need to hit the gym," he chuckled.

"Clearly they're vanity muscles," I said, raising my eyebrows, trying to get another reaction out of him.

"Hey," Noah laughed louder, his word of protest lacking any bite. He turned around to size me up, eyes skimming over me. "At least I have muscles," he chuckled. "You look like a strong breeze could blow you over."

I tutted at him even though that was more of a compliment than an insult, to me. I crossed over to the window, dragging the broom with me lazily. My eyes skimmed around the frame. "How about... if I get this open, you do all the sweeping, and I'll start picking out colors?" I grinned up at Noah hopefully, standing side-by-side with him as we both surveyed the murky window.

"And if you lose?"

"Whatever you want," I smirked, all confidence and just a pinch of if-only-you-didn't-have-a-girlfriend in my tone.

Noah seemed to run some kind of authenticity check, squinting at me as he evaluated the offer. Then he laughed, once, and stuck his hand out. "Deal. You don't stand a chance. This thing won't budge."

He stepped back and offered me the floor, as it were. I gave him my broom to hold onto, then put my arms out in front of me, stretching out the muscles I apparently didn't have. I stretched my neck out in a circle, too, and blew out a breath, taking this as seriously as if I were about to do some championship weightlifting.

Then, I gestured to him with a grabby hand to be given the broom back. Noah raised his eyebrows, visibly confused and wary, but obliged. I took the broom by the bottom of the stick, near the bristles, and lifted the other end up to the very top-left of the window, where a little locked bolt was keeping the window shut.

Noah groaned loudly from behind me, before he turned the noise into a chuckle. The sound was shortly joined by a slow clap.

I let the broom fall back to the ground, and then yanked the window open with just one good tug and a smug grin.

I turned back to Noah with the same smile, and brought one arm up to flex the skinny limb at him mockingly.

He stopped clapping to take the broom I offered back to him, and he shook his head in disbelief. "You are somethin' else, Callie," he said. "You know, you could've told me--"

"That wouldn't have been as fun," I said, cutting in. "And it wouldn't have gotten me out of sweeping up."

"Well played," he admitted as he shook his head again, grinning at me and making me feel like the sunshine was in here, rather than out there.