Bliss

nine

"Isaac, can we talk?

"No...Isaac, do you have a minute?

"I'm sor—Thank you?

"Oh, fuck it!"

Groaning, I fling myself off my bed and tumble to the ground. It's cold down here, but with the breeze comes clarity. No matter how long I sit here trying out different hypothetical variations of my thank you speech, thinking about saying it is not the same as actually doing it. And the longer I put it off, the harder it'll become. So hard I might just never do it.

No. I have to face him.

Do I?

Gosh, what am I saying? Of course, I do.

In fact, I will. Right now, actually.

I struggle to my feet and grab my trainers. My shorts ride up as I crouch down to tie the laces, and the greying polyester slips out of my grasp until I give up and shove them into my shoes. With each step I take, the aglets jam into the soles of my feet. I drop to my knees, dragging them out, but the laces continue to slip.

"Need some help?" Henry saunters over. He laughs as he towers over me, one of his slug-like brows arched condescendingly.

"No," I mutter, shoving the laces back into my shoes. Although I'm careful to lay the aglets flat this time.

"Do you really find it that difficult?"

He offers me a hand. I ignore it.

"All you have to do is make bunny ears and tie them around one another, and then voila, your laces are tied."

"Are you finished?" I try to push past.

He grabs my wrist and tugs me back. "Where are you going?" he asks, eyebrow raised and everything, almost like I owe him an explanation.

"The beach," I say, the lie easy enough to tell.

"The beach?"

"Yes, Henry, the beach."

His eyes skirt over my features and zero in on the corners of my mouth before he releases me. Apparently, they twitch when I lie.

"We're going out tonight," he says, completely ignoring the unnecessary stare-off he just subjected me to. "You know, if you want to come."

"Who is we?" I ask.

"Me, Isaac and the girls we met the other night."

"And why exactly would I want to go out with you and Isaac?"

"I mean, you spent the night with him, Lizzie. Surely you won't be opposed to a few drinks."

"I didn't spend the night," I hiss. "And even if I did, I'd appreciate it if you lowered your voice."

"Potato, tomato," he says with a flippant shrug. "The point is, do you want to come?"

"A, that's not how the saying goes, and B, I'd rather gouge my own eyes out than spend another evening with you, Isaac and your little holiday flings."

The last thing I need to remind myself how woefully alone I am is to watch a beautiful blonde fawn all over Isaac. What with her perfect hair, freshly manicured nails and uncanny resemblance to a supermodel—any supermodel. No, I'd rather spend the evening with Paula like planned. Midnight swims are a lot better than torture on the dancefloor.

"Suit yourself." Henry disappears, laughing as he does.

I ignore him and leave before another family member can knock me off course and send me hurtling back to the safety of my room.