When I don’t immediately answer, his eyes rove lazily down me, noticing the tattoos along my arms, my clothes that I’m sure are filthy from travelling all day, and my hair slick with sweat. Why did I choose to wear this particular top, which is pale blue with a frilly collar that suddenly feels like it’s choking me, and seems both silly and childlike before this behemoth of a man.
He moves his eyes back to mine. That smile turning almost predatory, making me feel stripped bare—but not exactly in a bad way. Nice to meet you, Violet. He says my name again, like he’s testing it out. It rolls off his tongue and I notice vaguely that my ears are ringing.
Hello, is all I can manage to choke out. I feel Alba beside me stifle a cough, trying her best not to laugh.
Hello, Finn repeats, chuckling to himself. Like he’s used to mere mortals reacting to him this way. I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this summer. He says it like a sensual promise.
My eyes dart down to his bare torso. I hear my voice, dazed and not entirely my own, say to him, Well, I’ve already seen a lot of you.
His eyes go wide and—what the hell is wrong with you Violet? Why would you say that?!
But something like delight crosses his face. Greedy thing, you are. Taking in so much at once. He gestures down towards himself before smiling at me and adding, But there’s still a lot more to see, darling.
He obviously mistook my foot-in-mouth syndrome for flirting. And I can tell you right now I don’t have the chops to go at it with this specimen. I feel my cheeks flush. The ringing in my ears now sounds like a dial-up tone.
Alba saves me from having to think of anything to say in return. Come on Vi, we’ll leave Finn here and I’ll put you in the other cabin.
The other cabin, as it turns out, is right next door. When we go inside, Alba shuts the door behind her, and barks out a laugh she’s clearly been fighting. I start maniacally laughing alongside her.
Surely that thing is not the same species as us? I ask her, rasping. Alba has slumped down onto the floor, shaking with laughter.
Dude, with his shirt off too? In a towel? He looks like a Greek fucking god.
I think my brain actually stopped. I couldn’t get any words out, I gasp between gulps of laughter, from hysteria and a rising panic. I plead with her, Alba, I can’t stay in the cottage beside him. You’ve got to move me! My voice is getting high pitched and panicky, but her laugh only turns slightly evil.
No way, she says. You’re staying right here where the view is so good.
I know there’s no arguing with her. Finn seems like trouble, but a guy like that, who looks like he would have been the captain of his high school soccer team—or rather football team where he’s from—would certainly never be interested in me.
He will inevitably come to find out what all men eventually realize about me: that I’m kind of odd; definitely different, and therefore not likeable in the romantic sense. I can usually hide this for a one-night stand or a few dates, but I know nobody wants to be around my true self once it comes barrelling out. I’m like one of those cans of pre-made cinnamon rolls: once it bursts open, there’s no getting the dough back in—no way to go back to what it was before.
I take a deep breath, willing myself into that cool, collected, get-shit-done space. If I befriend him, then it won’t matter if he teases me or treats me like one of the guys.
And then he can’t exactly reject me, either.
Alba leaves me to change into my bathing suit and I cringe, hoping my sickeningly buff Scottish neighbour will be long gone by the time I emerge from this cabin.
I open my suitcase and look at my bathing suit options: the one I’ve packed on top is a yellow bikini with white polka dots. I feel my cheeks burn with how childish this pattern seems now. My other option, while less revealing, is a black one-piece with little deer on it.
I snort, feeling somehow like a caricature of myself. I blame my mom’s thrifting mania and my Nan’s homemade clothes growing up for my eclectic taste in outfits.
As I finish putting on the cursed one-piece, a knock on the cabin door jolts me out of my thoughts.
Coming! I call out—I assume to Alba—I hope to god it’s Alba and not him.
But when I open the door, a radiant, truly lovely-looking woman with long glossy dark hair greets me instead.
Rose! I say, smiling at Alba’s wife, thrilled to be seeing her in person. I pull her into a hug. I’ve wanted to meet you for so long.
Oh Violet, I’m so happy you’re here. Alba has been bouncing off the walls with excitement.
I never bounce, Alba says from behind her wife. I occasionally buzz, but bounce is a stretch. She looks between the pair of us, and I can see her how happy she is that we’re finally together. By Alba’s standards, she’s positively beaming.
Rose is wearing a white beach cover-up over a bubble-gum pink bathing suit. Are you ready to swim Violet? I hear you’re a water baby like us.
I’ll swim in anything: I love the ocean, lakes, even a pool. But a saltwater lake is new to me.
Will it just be the three of us going? I ask almost nervously. Alba, the devious friend that she is, smirks.
