“He’d never hurt me,” I blurt without thinking.
Nat pauses, as I do. When did I grow such trust in Chance? It was only a night!
“I think,” I add. Because she still watches me suspiciously, I change the subject. “I can’t get over these tiny cakes.”
Thankfully, she awes at the little treats with me. They’re smaller than cupcakes, sweet and savory. I love them.
Once we’re done with our breakfast, we hang around for a while. The gazebos empty out. With each person that exits, I’m sure Chance isn’t coming.
“Let’s go,” I tell Natalie. There’s no use hanging around anymore.
The sympathy in her eyes makes me feel a little guilty. I’m not mad at her. Just mad I missed the moment with Chance. It’s not her fault I silenced my phone after Todd’s call and didn’t see her six missed calls.
“Cheer up.” Nat squeezes my shoulder as we exit the courtyard. “We have that tour today, right? It’s going to be mad fun and you can put Chance Easton out of your mind.”
I don’t tell her I’d rather keep the thoughts of Chance. They’re like a breath of fresh air after being under water for too long.
Our tour guide, Stu, is assigned by the Resort. He’s a local that knows the ins and outs of the Island. He drives us around pointing out the historical buildings and showing us the top spots to visit—a bustling market, a weekend carnival, and a spread of lush gardens.
That last one makes me blush for some reason.
We visit the Museum and spend half the time laughing over Nat’s interpretation of the art. There’s everything from paintings to marble sculptures to wooden artifacts. And… something made of metal and clay.
“Okay, now, that’s freaky.” Nat squints at the structure. “Fuck is that?” she asks Stu.
He gives her a good-natured smile. “It’s the artist’s demonstration of fertility. The joining of man’s genius which is metal and the basic nature of the earth which is clay.”
Nat and I share a look, then burst into laughter.
“It’s brilliant,” I say.
He only smiles in return. “Ready to see more?”
“Creepy fertility thingies.”
“No more fertility thingies.” He grins. “Just more of Magic Island.”
“Cool, let’s go,” Nat chirps.
The tour guide drives past homes and buildings, then past greenery, then homes again. I’m awed.
I lean out the window, drinking the cool air tinged with a bit of saltiness from the ocean. I drop back into my seat and grin at Nat, feeling more alive than I’ve been in the longest time.
“I love this!”
She looks up from her phone. A small smile plays on her lips. “I can see that.”
Smiling, I go back out and watch the passing terrain, tempted to leave my tongue hanging out like a dog.
“Magic Island is amazing!” I yell to no one.
“I’ll show you amazing,” Stu responds.
He stops beside the road. “We’re here.”
He gets out and we follow suit.
“There’s only trees,” Nat echoes my thoughts.
