Inside the building, there’s a crowd of people. One corner looks like a cross between a gift shop and a cosmetics store, and another area leads to a hallway of locker rooms. We check in at the front desk where they give us each a colored bracelet to wear.
“Okay, I’m going to get changed.” Harper disappears into the women’s area.
I make my way into the men’s changing area and get into my bathing suit, storing my belongings in a locker. The locker room itself is huge, with rows of lockers and changing areas. I follow the flow of people, making my way to the showers. Apparently, we all have to shower before entering the lagoon, so I do that quickly, and then make my way out to the hot spring, bringing a towel.
I don’t see Harper yet, so I wait by one of the entrances to the lagoon itself. There’s one entrance that starts inside, a ramp sloping downwards into the water, and then the second, larger entrance is through a set of double doors that leads outside.
The lagoon is huge, stretching out in every direction around the building. The water is blue, but with a white, opaque undertone, which is a stark contrast against the black lava rocks forming the pools of water. Thick steam hangs over the water in the cold air. You’d think it would make the water seem ominous, but there are walking bridges built around the water and waterfalls that pull everything together to give it a luxurious feel. The overall scene and the dozens, maybe hundreds, of people in the water remind me that this is a tourist attraction—though a relaxing one.
“Ready?” Harper says, coming up behind me.
I turn. She has her hair braided back, the end looping forward over her shoulder. Her bathing suit is a deep blue two-piece that I try my best to not pay too much attention to. Little bits of hair around her face have already fallen out of the braid, and I have to remind every muscle in my body not to reach out and tuck the loose hair behind her ear.
This girl is torturing me with her existence.
“Lead the way,” I say, averting my eyes to the water.
We both have towels in our hands, and we head outside through the glass double doors to a long towel rack. After we hang our towels, Harper leads the way into the water.
She walks down a ramp, letting out an audible sigh as the warm water comes over her. I follow, realizing just how opaque the water is. It had looked like a milky blue from a distance, buteven more so up close. When I step in, it’s cloudy enough that I can’t see my feet on the bottom.
I’m not sure what I’d been expecting, but the bottom of the lagoon is mud. Not thick. Just enough to get between my toes. The lagoon isn’t man-made, but since everything else around it is, I almost expected a concrete bottom like a pool or something similar. I bend down to pick up the mud to get a closer look and it’s white and silky in my hands.
“Ugh, it’s so nice,” Harper says, kneeling down so the water comes all the way up to her neck.
The water is the perfect temperature, relaxing every muscle in my body. It’s waist deep, so we both squat down to keep our shoulders submerged in the water.
Harper starts swimming through the corners of the lagoon, and I follow close behind. There’s a little building in the middle of the water where people are going to get mud masks in varying colors. Harper beelines for it and picks out a white mud mask, but I decline. She applies a thick layer over her face and gives me a big grin.
“Come on, you have to!” She reaches out to me, a big glob of the white gunk on her hand. “It’s part of the experience!”
I dodge her by swimming off to the side, but she gets an iron grip on my arm, dragging me toward her and wiping her hand across my cheek. She lets out a giggle when I give up and let her apply the rest over my face.
Whatever it is, it smells better than I thought it would.
“Much better.” She steps back, looking pleased with herself.
Harper’s proud pleasure at the sight of my mud-mask face is the only thing keeping me from dipping my head underwaterto rinse it off.
We explore the rest of the lagoon, checking out every corner and crevasse. The place is much bigger than I realized. It’s crowded by the main entrance, but as you get farther away, there are small, quiet alcoves that are probably romantic. Harper turns around and leads us back to more crowded areas.
“So, it’s time to prove my point,” she says suddenly.
I arch an eyebrow.
“I’m your wing-woman.” She splashes water over her face until the mask is gone, so I do the same, grateful to be rid of it.
“Harper,” I start to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop me.
“Come on, there’s a swim-up bar somewhere.”
“This isn’t going to go anywhere,” I tell her. Because it’s not. Regardless of my feelings for Harper, we’re in a different country. Who goes on dates when you’re on vacation miles and miles away from home? What’s the point?
“Just have fun and let me work my magic.”
She swims off to another small building settled into the water, surrounded by people holding drinks.
I already know this isn’t going to go well.
