Island Vibes

9. a good trick

The next few days passed by in a blur of dust, dirt, and trying not to fall for Noah Flores.

It wasn't my fault he looked so good with his stupid grin, stupid tool belt, stupid hair, stupid tank tops, stupid face.

I'd learned too much about him to consider us strictly colleagues, now. Our main tasks in the café for the time being were stripping the old wallpaper (me) and varnishing the wooden floor (him), and it left us with too much time to talk.

*

“Yeah, it's just the two of us, me and Brie.” He saw the expression that flickered over my face and held back a laugh. “She's totally not as scary as you think. Y'just gotta get to know her, promise.”

*

“Mm, that's a tough question. Why would you ask that when we haven't had lunch yet?” His nose scrunched up as he thought, hard. “Pepperoni pizza,” he grinned, before pausing and squinting his eyes at me. “Unless you think that's too-- I don't know, unsophisticated, in which case... sashimi.”

*

“I've always been kinda scared of heights. Makes me feel all lightheaded and--” he shuddered. “Not happenin'. I can't go much higher than the roof. The thought of going skydiving or whatever makes me wanna puke.”

*

“I wanna be a builder. Like, a real one. Not just being a fixer-upper.” There was a pause, in which a small smile spread across his features. He looked lost in thought. “I wanna own my own business.”

*

“Five kids. All boys,” he laughed, before shaking his head and shrugging. “Nah, I don't really care. Boys, girls, what's it matter? I just want a whole bunch of 'em. There's nothing better than family. Plus, then they gotta look after me when I'm old,” he smirked.

*

The amount I knew about Noah was growing at an alarming rate. We were in information overload, and I was becoming increasingly charmed. It didn't seem right – like, it just didn't make sense. He was hot and an interesting person? I figured he had to be a serial killer on the side, to keep this whole thing balanced.

Of course, there was the girlfriend issue, which I had been conveniently trying my best to forget about. It made me feel gross, being so high-key into a guy who already had a partner, but... I wasn't so sure Noah was just being Noah when he flirted with me, anymore. I was kind of starting to think it was a Callie Exclusive.

*

“You know, I wish we hadn't moved away sometimes. My life is so different to yours. I always kinda think about, like. What could've been, right? I coulda been a city kid. Isn't that crazy, Cal?” He stopped working to look up at me, his pathetically handsome grin back on his face. “Maybe we would've been tight.”

*

With the influx of Noah Information helping the time fly by, Thursday night came around quicker than expected. After a panicky what do I wear session, I was at Noah's place with a bottle of wine and my cutest, breeziest dress, ready to meet Milo. Totally just to meet Milo. 100%.

I realised, standing outside the door, that there were voices coming from inside. And not, you know, a regular dinner party level of noise – but like, a lot of noise. I glanced down at the wine. If he'd told me there'd be more guests, I would've brought more--

The door swung open before I'd even knocked, and a stranger looked at me for a moment, blank and confused. I raised my eyebrows back at him, equally thrown, and searched for what to say, when he blinked down at the alcohol in my hand and yelled a triumphant “Alright!” as he backed out of the doorway to let me in.

I peered inside first, and started to piece together what was going on. I hadn't just been invited to Noah's place – I'd been invited to a party at Noah's place. Oh, God. I wasn't remotely prepared for this, and the one bottle of wine didn't seem like it'd even make a dent, here. Everyone was already loud and rowdy, so what was my measly bottle going to do? The guy who'd opened the door for me had already headed out, and that left me with a house full of strangers that, hopefully, also had a Noah somewhere in the mix.

I tried the kitchen first, but didn't get far without random people getting in my way to say hi and tell me they knew I was the new girl, the one with the parents and the café, working with Noah, and how was that going? I didn't really have any answers for any of them, because I was still so blindsided by this whole actual real party happening here, but I somehow managed to navigate my way through the kitchen and out into a small garden.

A fresh gaggle of drunken strangers started to chat to me there, but most of them already seemed to know my story, which at least saved me a lot of repetitive introductions. I was trying to explain to a pretty dark-haired girl that I was only going to be here for the summer, that this was just a temporary arrangement, when a loud yell from behind us declared in a glorious roar, “Jungle juice!” and began a mini-stampede of people trying to get back into the kitchen to drink up.

The voice, of course, belonged to Noah, who clocked me standing there like an idiot when I was the only person to not lunge to get back into the kitchen.

His eyebrows sprang up and he fussed his hair out of his eyes. “You came!” he beamed. “Kinda didn't know if you would.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Mm. I d'know. You just don't seem like the party type,” he said, wrinkling his nose up as he admitted it.

I started to process that, but then my brain got in its own way. “Well, you didn't tell me it was a party,” I said, a little more heated than I'd wanted to. I hadn't realised I was so cut up about being left out of the loop, but now it seemed like maybe he hadn't told me it was a party on purpose.

“Oops,” he shrugged, grinning like this absolutely wasn't an oops. “Slipped my mind, I guess,” he said, before reaching out to me with a grabby hand. “You wanna trade that wine for some jungle juice? It looks way too nice to waste on tonight,” he laughed.

I held it up, reluctant. I didn't know what'd happen if I gave it to him, but I had the feeling it'd mysteriously go missing over the course of the night, and it was a nice bottle.

“C'mon, we should save it for another time,” he said, coming a little closer to take it off my hands, his smile absolutely wrecking me at that proximity. He was too much, especially now I had fresh pangs of annoyance running through me.

“Why didn't you tell me?” I asked. My voice was a tiny bit too quiet, and a tiny bit too hurt.

“I told you,” he sighed, dropping some of his bravado. “I didn't think you'd come. I wanted you to come.”

That took some of the sting out of it, I supposed. “Yeah,” I huffed, but my bubble of frustration and aggravation had popped. “But now it feels like you tricked me,” I sulked, while trying my best not to sulk.

Noah held the base of the wine bottle with one hand and freed it from my loose grip with a gentle tug. His other hand reached for one of mine. “A good trick,” he said, gripping my hand tightly. “I promise.”