We continued on like this for another half an hour before we decided to make our way back onto shore through the persisting crowds, despite it now being around 8:15 p.m. if my sense of time were anything to go by. I figured it was better to be safer than sorry when it came to our curfew, because Dad and Sadie don't play around when it comes to their consequences. This way Madden and I would also get the chance to dry off a little and not haul salt water inside our hotel lobby, not that I imagine it isn't a daily occurrence in a place like this. Still, I didn't want to be an asshole unnecessarily. If I worked in a hotel directly across from the beach, I'd want people to dry off before coming inside. It's just common decency, really.
It didn't take long for the late evening heat to evaporate the water from our shorts and hair, which was impressive considering the length of both my own and Madden's locks—mine reaching my shoulder blades when wet and curling to tickle my shoulders when dry, and Madden's nearing about the same length also.
I checked my phone and saw a text message from Dad, which he must have sent almost as soon as we left if the time stamp was correct. Dad made sure he got an international plan for his phone, just in case anyone from work needed to speak to him urgently while we were away, which is why I could receive his text. I just couldn't reply to it, unless I wanted to pay out the ass for the roaming charges.
Ruben: Thanks for your attempt at subtlety, kid haha. Make sure you're back on time, preferably no earlier than 8:30 if you know what's good for you ;) And PLEASE keep a close eye on Madden xo
I chuckled aloud as I read Dad's message. He knows me perhaps a little too well, and clearly read between the lines of my spoken desire to hang out at the beach with Madden.
"What's so funny?" asked Madden, looking over at my phone in my hands.
"Do you really want to know?" I replied, smirking as I imagined the look of disgust that would grace his innocent face if I told him what Dad's message really meant.
"Does it involve them having sex again?" he asked, screwing up his face to resemble the exact expression I envisioned.
"Again, do you really want to know the answer to that question?" I laughed.
Madden groaned emphatically, causing me to laugh out loud. "They're so revolting."
"They're not revolting, Madd. They're just in love," I said, gripping his shoulder in consolation. The loss of his youthful ignorance regarding sex has been a difficult one for him to come to terms with.
"But it's so gross!"
"I promise you, Madd, it's far from gross."
"How is imagining my mother and your father having sex not the most disgusting thing you've ever thought of?"
"Because sex can be a beautiful thing when you do it with someone you love and want to be close with in that way," I said, perplexed at how I ended up sitting, jetlagged on a beach in Hawaii, giving a positive sexual education class to my little brother by referencing our parents making love back in our hotel room.
"I know it seems like a weird thing, but if you look around at all these people here—and even at you and me—we're all here because sex has been something that people have been doing for thousands of years. It's a normal way of expressing yourself and the attraction or love you feel for your partner. It's a hard thing to understand fully until you've experienced it yourself, Madd; which you will eventually, but hopefully not any time soon because you're still just a wee little baby."
I pulled him into my arms and across my lap, cradling him like I would with Willow back home. She was Tanner and Morgan's baby girl, now roughly 6 months old, and we babysit her a bit when they need a date night. If only Madden knew what they get up to while he's feeding Willow her bottle and reading to her as she falls asleep in his bed.
"Ugh, Jet! Get off me. I'm not a baby," he whined, pushing at my arms which easily overpowered his.
"You'll always be a baby to me, little bro," I said, pulling him upright to stand next to me. "Come on. It should be safe for us to head back in now. They should have pulled most of their clothes back on by now."
"I actually hate you," Madden fired at me and which I deflected away with a chuckle.
"I love you too, Madd," I laughed, turning him around and walking across the road to the front steps of our hotel.
I stopped laughing the second I caught sight of the red, oval-shaped ball I know so well bouncing its uneven way across the sidewalk in front of me. Next to the North Pole, Hawaii was probably the last place on earth I'd anticipated seeing a flaming red AFL football considering I imagine everyone in this state spends the majority of their time surfing, or otherwise playing American sports, like basketball or baseball, or the clearly inferior code of football they know as NFL.
It stopped Madden dead in his tracks too, who clearly felt the same amount of shock as I did upon seeing this familiar and unexpected piece of home literally stumble across our path.
I reached down to pick it up and, looking around for the presumably-Australian owner of the precious ball, found a guy around my age standing a few feet in front of the lobby doors wearing an AFL football guernsey. Granted, they were the revolting black and red colours of the wrong team to support, but it was another familiar piece of home I wasn't expecting to come across while we were away, so I forgave him his poor choice of team.
I smiled at the guy before handballing the footy back to him like I have so many times before I could do the actions perfectly in my sleep, and he caught it in his hands like a natural. He has to be Australian, and by the look on his face right now, the same realisation is dawning on him about me.
"Cheers, mate," he said, walking closer towards Madden and I with a smile.
Yep, definitely Australian.
Now I know I promised I wouldn't talk to anyone, and that I was to be cautious with people talking to us; but surely that didn't apply to fellow Australians? And a kid my own age, at that.
"Yeah, no worries, mate," I said, sounding even more Australian than I do back home. Somehow being in another country makes our unique mannerisms and accents sound more pronounced than ever before; ocker Aussie more than any other.
"I assume you play back home?" the guy asked.
"Yeah, we do. Where're you from?" I asked, keeping a careful eye on the front doors of the hotel to make sure Dad or Sadie didn't come out and bust my ass for talking to someone when they explicitly told me not to.
"Melbourne. What about you guys?"
"Small world. Us, too," I said, holding my hand out to this guy I still didn't know the name of. "I'm Jet, and this is my brother, Madden."
He took my hand in his and introduced himself. "Byron. Nice to meet you guys. Are you staying here, too?" he said, gesturing back to the hotel behind him.
"Yeah, we just arrived this afternoon. We're gate crashing our parents' honeymoon," I laughed, pointing up towards the tall building. "You here for much longer? Maybe we could go have a kick sometime?"
Normally I'm not one to strike up conversation with some random bloke I don't know. But it would be nice to have someone my own age to hang out with while I was here, and Bryon seemed like a decent dude, clearly getting my unspoken insinuation when I pointed upstairs and mentioned my parents' honeymoon, and he started laughing along with me.
"Only been here a few days, and not leaving for another week or so. That'd be really cool, though. My dad busted his knee trying to surf on our second day here, and my little sister prefers shopping with my mum to kicking the footy around with me," chuckled Byron, bouncing the ball on the ground.
Conscious of the fact Madden and I were about to miss our curfew, I knew I needed to wrap this introduction up and make our way inside. "Listen, we're going to get our asses handed to us if we don't get inside within like, 2 minutes; but how 'bout we catch up tomorrow or something? I think we'll all be sleeping most of the morning away catching up with our jetlag, but we were just going to be heading down to the beach and surfing most of the day, so if you wanted to come meet us and hang out if you didn't have plans, you're more than welcome to."
Bryon laughed. "You look like surfers," he said, which was one of the finest compliments I've ever received. "I'm not sure what my parents' plans were, but maybe swing by my room on your way out and see if we're there? Otherwise, I can always message you or something? I don't have an international plan to text, but do you have Facebook or Instagram or something?"
Madden answered for me before I got the chance. "He's a 17-year-old boy. Of course he does. What else do you think he does with his spare time?"
Bryon and I laughed at my brother, ever the sarcastic comedian. "Yeah, man. Haven't connected to the Wi-Fi yet as we went straight to the beach when we got in, but you can add me. Jet Wesley."
Somehow it sounds odd calling myself a Wesley now that Dad likely has intentions of my being a Foster like him. I like the sound of Jet Hudson Foster much better than I ever did Wesley. Being a Wesley was always something to be ashamed of, but being a Foster was like a dream come true.
"Sure thing. I'll do it when I head back inside. Last name's Fyre, by the way, in case you get to it before I do. And my room's 134, for when you stop by," said Byron, tucking his football under his arm and reaching out to shake my hand again. "Cool to meet you, Jet. You too, Madden," he said, shaking Madden's hand after mine. He'd be loving being treated like an older kid right now. It was one of his biggest gripes about his much younger age, always wanting to be included with my friends, who loved him anyway.
Madden and I looked on at Bryon as he walked down the sidewalk, bouncing his footy without a care for his surroundings or the weird looks people were giving our Australian friend and his foreign football.
Madden must have turned around before I did to see Dad standing at the lobby door watching us and not looking remotely pleased. A small "shit" escaped Madden's lips before he bounded off in Dad's direction, clearly wanting to separate himself from my disobeying of the old man's instructions, leaving me to cop the brunt of his wrath all on my own.
Well, fuck.
I'm hoping Sadie did me a solid and gave him a good time to ease the terror he's about to unleash on me.