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It felt good, this conversation, her interest. It was a type of female connection I hadn’t felt in a long time, absent of the inherent competition that came with the shallow Instagram-basedfriendships I’d formed with other influencers. And I found myself disappointed when Cass eventually had to leave after an hour or so to get back to the dive shop. But we promised to meet up again, and we kept it, spending nearly every day together in the last few weeks. She was quick to introduce me to her friends, to welcome me into the life she had made here.
“Yeah,” I say to Neil now. “I’m lucky to have met her.”
Neil nods knowingly, and we sit in silence for a few moments. I expect it to feel awkward, but other than the nervous trill in my stomach, it’s surprisingly comfortable. We watch a group of backpackers toss around a blow-up volleyball as they walk down the slope toward the beach.
“So how are you liking Koh Sang so far?” Neil asks finally.
“It’s great,” I say. “I mean it’s beautiful, obviously, and everyone is so nice.” Both statements are objectively true.
“Are we nice enough to get you to stay?” Neil’s dark eyes are trained on mine, his eyebrows rising.
It catches me off guard, even though it shouldn’t. I can tell the answer Neil wants, the one he’s expecting. That I’ll join him and the other Permanents who have made Koh Sang their home.
“Maybe,” I say finally, settling on as uncontroversial an answer as I can think of. “Just taking it week by week at this point.”
I don’t mention that I don’t have much choice. That I’ve spent nearly all my savings on a one-way flight to Phuket, followed by a ferry ticket to Koh Sang. I have barely enough left to cover my expenses for the next two weeks, let alone to book a flight out of here.
Neil nods. He looks as if he’s considering saying something more, but I head it off before he has the chance. “So what broughtyou here? How did you know that this was the place for you to settle down?”
Neil takes another drink, apparently thinking over the question. He casually reaches down and starts playing with the bracelets that cover several inches on both of my wrists. Some beaded, some nothing more than a loop of string. Some purchased, some given to me, usually by kids, in the various places I’ve traveled. Neil shifts each bracelet one at a time, his skin brushing against mine. His touch is unexpected, but somehow it feels right. Even so, I pull my arm away, feigning an itch on my back that desperately needs to be scratched.
“Ah, you know, the usual story,” he says, pretending not to notice the sting of my rejection. “Bit of a rough childhood, drunk dad, the whole lot. Took off traveling as soon as I finished school and didn’t even consider stopping until I reached here. Discovered scuba and kind of fell in love.” I feel a heat rise in my cheeks when he says that last word. “Something about this place just felt right. I can’t really put my finger on why. So I worked it out with Frederic that I would serve as waitstaff here at the Tiki Palms to pay for my training. Once I finally finished my divemaster course, he took me on as an instructor. That was about three years ago now.”
He’s right. It is the usual story. So generic it’s almost laughable. But still, I can’t help but feel a surge of compassion for Neil. My eyes keep drifting to his fingers, which have now retreated from my skin and are clasped around his glass, and I regret pulling away. I find myself craving human touch. His touch specifically. The feeling of his fingers on me.
Not now, I tell myself. This isn’t the time, and it’s certainly not the place.
He laughs lightly to himself. “But I know the diving isn’t what drew you here, Brooke. I think you’re the only person I’ve ever met who’s come to Thailand’s most-renowned diving island with no intention of even trying scuba.” He shakes his head slightly, as if he can’t quite believe it.
I’d confessed my aversion to water sports to Neil the first night we met. I’ve never been athletic. When I was growing up, I always preferred to hole up in my bedroom with a book or sneak into the living room to turn on CNN rather than join the other kids in our trailer park playing whatever kind of miserable game they’d made up that week. And it wasn’t like we had the option of water sports in central Kentucky. Back then, I didn’t even realize scubawasa sport.
I’ve also never understood the desire to be that far below the surface. The claustrophobia, the water’s pressure bearing down on you, relying on nothing but a tank and a small tube to keep you breathing. That’s way more trust than I can put into anything, let alone anyone.
“I still think I can convince you. I’ll make a diver out of you one of these days. That’s a promise,” Neil says, raising his glass.
“Sounds more like a threat to me,” I say, cringing at how flirtatious my words sound.
“So what was it then?” Neil presses. “If not the diving, then what brought you to this part of the world?”
“Well, I’ve been traveling for a while now,” I say, following my prepared script, “and what kind of backpacker would I be if I never made it to Thailand?”
He nods, and something in his expression directs me to continue.
“I finished college early,” I explain, the best phrase I’ve comeup with to avoid mentioning that I dropped out after only a few months, “and I didn’t really know what to do with my life. I had always wanted to travel. I started with backpacking through Eastern Europe. Thought I could pick up some freelance journalism jobs as I went, but that didn’t really pan out. So I made this Instagram profile, and then a TikTok, and then a website, and the whole thing kind of blew up…”
I trail off, glancing downward as I feel the usual shame that comes with explaining my career. I prepare myself for Neil’s response. An eye roll or a snort of derision, perhaps. The typical response I get when I admit I’m an influencer, a profession that’s come to be both envied and disdained.
But Neil simply sits there, completely quiet for a few seconds.
“Hmm,” he says finally, his lips turning into a smile, and for the first time, I notice a dimple piercing his left cheek.
“Hmm what?” I ask, a smile pulling at the sides of my mouth.
“I’m not sure I believe you, Brooke.”
Instantly, my smile freezes. My stomach tightens, and I force down a swelling panic.He knows. He’s figured it out. It’s all over.
But a glitter in his eye stops me.
