Getaway

Chapter 17

“Every day is a sunny day in the Cape Verde Islands,” I pointed out.

“You always have to find a way to ruin everything don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” I said, “it’s my life ambition.”

“Don’t quit your day job,” Fletcher told me, “that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

“I don’t have a day job.”

“Well then you good for nothing scoundrel, you better get one.”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever,” Fletcher mocked.

“I hate you,” I replied.

“No you don’t,” he said, “you admitted it tonight. You like me.”

Fletcher pronounced the word like in a sing-song voice and once again I was taken back to primary school and Fletcher seemed to fit right in.

“I don’t like you,” I retorted.

“Admit it Nell, you do. Oh wait, you already have admitted it! You like me and you can’t take that back now.”

“I may not be able to take it back, but I sure as hell regret it,” I replied.

“Ouch,” Fletcher said, “your words hurt you know.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

“Remind me why I like you again?”

“You don’t like me, you like me,” I repeated.

“Whatever,” Fletcher replied, “I’m pretty sure I still need reminding.”

“I’m awesome,” I stated as my first point, “I put up with you even when you are being insanely annoying and I even take the time to answer these stupid questions you ask me.”

Fletcher considered what I said for a few moments before turning to me with a satisfied smile.

“That was a pretty good answer,” he replied, “although you missed out one very important fact.”

“And what would that be?”

“You’re pretty damn cute.”

“I’m not sure that cute is the word I would use to describe me,” I said, “maybe you could use a different adjective.”

“Nah,” Fletcher told me, “I think you’re cute.”

“Like a kitten cute? Or you want to kiss me cute?” I asked.

“Which one do you think?” he replied with a knowing smile.

“Damn it,” I said, “I knew I should have gone as a cat for Halloween.”

Fletcher looked at me as if in that moment he was really reconsidering his decision to say he liked me. I couldn’t blame him, I knew that at times I could be just as annoying as he was and that was a difficult thing to manage.

“Whatever,” he replied, “which sun-lounger do you want?”

It was only then that I noticed that we had – finally – arrived at the pool and therefore that I could dump my bags on the ground and finally begin to even think about relaxing. As Fletcher settled down on his own lounger I thought about the idea I’d had yesterday.

“Do you want to do something today than lying here for god knows how many hours?” I asked.

“We get up and have lunch,” Fletcher pointed out.