Hawaii was growing on me. I hated to say it, but my sister and my grandma might've been right. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was the fresh, clean air always carrying a trace of salt. The crystal clear waters, breaking with a delicious crash on the warm sand. The way the sun rose over the misty mountains and rainbows were practically commonplace. Or maybe it was the smell of the plumerias after it rained, the palm trees swaying side to side. Or maybe...maybe it had something to do with— Jake.

I liked him. Okay? Kind of a lot. More than I cared to admit, to be completely honest. He was sweet, and funny, and awkward, and dorky. And he had a nice smile. A really nice smile. The kind of smile that made you want to know more. And I don't know, this past week we'd spent together...

Also, he was cute. So cute. And he called me cute, and sometimes I even believed him. And, god, the way he looked at me sometimes was about enough to stop my heart in its tracks.

Click, click, click.

"Stop taking pictures of me, Sherlock," I cried out in protest, cheeks pink. "Stop!" I laughed out loud, shaking my head at him as the disposable camera continued to click. "Jake!" I rolled my eyes, unable to prevent the smile creeping up my face. "I cannot stand him," I told Maia.

"Yeah sure looks like it," snorted Maia. "That giant dorky smile on your face really screams disgust."

"Maia!" I whacked her across the arm, fixing her with a stern look.

"Just saying," she hummed, poking my cheek.

"Just saying nothing," I hissed, feeling the back of my neck heat up as I staunchly avoided those deep, brown eyes. He'd started carrying a camera everywhere with him. I blamed Maia, who had gotten him a disposable the first week we were here. I'm sure there were about a hundred pictures of me now with my arms thrown up to cover my face, or drooling, fast asleep on the couch. He was the worst.

Maia just laughed.

"What's so funny?" Jake asked, as he shoved the camera back into his pack, laying a towel out on the sand. It was Friday, and the four of us had driven down to the beach right after work, stopping only to pick up sandwiches from the Nakamura's restaurant. They were delicious.

"Denial," Maia replied. Kai hid a smile behind his can of soda. I wanted to punch them both.

"I'm going in the water," Jake declared, wiping sweat from his brow. I stared fixedly at the sand as he pulled his shirt over his head, my heartbeat ratcheting up. "Who's with me?"

"Not me," Maia said. "I have a book and freshly washed hair."

"Kai?"

Kai held up his sandwich in response. "Eating."

"Randall?" Jake's gaze swung on me, all grinning and hopeful.

"I don't have sunscreen on yet."

"C'mon Sophia," he wheedled, "don't hold out on me."

"Maybe later," I told him, doing my best not to smile when he clutched his heart and staggered backward over-dramatically at the rejection. I watched him head down to the ocean, sighing a little. He disappeared under a wave, bobbing under and up on the turquoise swell.

I felt full. Like I might burst as I curled my toes underneath the warm sand and shielded my eyes from the sun, thinking about Jake's hands and the way they fit in mine, and also the way he slung me over his shoulder like I was nothing, and also his back muscles, and his voice in the morning, and also—

"Stop it," I growled at Maya, pushing my sunglasses off my face.

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me like that," I huffed, rummaging through my backpack for sunscreen. "It's very hurtful."

"You can't even see me," Maia whistled cheerfully. I heard her turn a page of her book.

"I don't have to see you," I told her. "I can feel it."

Maia breathed a laugh, "Remind me again how many tourists told you and Jake what a cute couple you made this past week?"

I swallowed, "Not...that many." Just all the twenty something girls from the bachelorette party, the couple on their honeymoon, the family of four, and the little girl with the pigtails who Jake carried for 75% of the hike today because she was afraid of "mud goblins" and he was frustratingly amazing like that. So really. Not that many at all.

Kai snorted again.

I flung my sunglasses at his head.

"I didn't say anything!"

"Your noises are just as unhelpful," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

My phone buzzed.

Tommy: soph

I groaned, wishing I could bury my head in the sand.

Tommy: you okay?

Tommy: feel like i haven't heard from you in a while

I groaned again, my stomach in knots.

Tommy: call when you can, okay soph?

Tommy: i miss you ❤️

Tommy: we should talk...

I could not think of a single thing I wanted to do less. That was another thing I liked about Hawaii; it had plenty of distractions from home. Already my insides were twisting at the thought of talking to Tommy. Yes, of course I felt bad about avoiding him. He was my best friend. Is my best friend.

I loved him. I just— I didn't know what I wanted. And I was scared.

I chose to ignore Tommy's messages, and instead sent a quick update to my grandmother, whose calls Abby avoided like the plague. Typical Abby. I texted Reagan back too, for she had asked me a couple hours ago whether yellow was sacrilegious color for a ginger to wear. I said no, if the ginger in question was as hot as her. She'd appreciate it.

The sun beat down overhead, and I rummaged through Jake's backpack until I found his baseball cap, neatly tucking it over my hair. It smelled like him. Not that I knew what he smelled like. Because I didn't. It definitely wasn't a very specific combination of fabric softener and something musky and— nope!

I watched as a leggy blonde lifeguard in a sexy red one piece, looking like she stepped straight out of Baywatch, or at least was somehow blood related to Pamela Anderson, approached Jake. She threw her head back and laughed, and I averted my eyes, an unfamiliar prickly feeling settling over me.

Frowning, I rolled a grain of sand between my index finger and thumb. Did he have to be so goddamn friendly all the time? He was just so smiley and— okay yes, I could agree he was objectively attractive. Like by conventional beauty standards. That was a fact. Plain and simple. On top of that, he was a genuinely good person. Also— ripped. It made sense that he attracted people wherever he went. Particularly girls. Girls loved him. Pretty girls loved him.

I couldn't begin to count the number of teenage girls— honestly, just women in general, on our tours this week that had hit on him. Not to mention Stacey, who practically drooled on cue whenever he walked in a room. Good for him. I didn't care. It was just a little annoying when it interfered with our jobs, but I didn't care. As a friend, I was happy for him. As a coworker, happy but wanting to keep things professional. Because work. Anyways—

"Nice hat, Randall," a teasing voice broke me from my thoughts. I looked up to find Jake grinning at me, dripping water everywhere.

I blushed. "Sorry," I stammered, "I didn't want to burn..."

"Keep it," Jake said, flicking the brim. "Suits you." He grabbed a towel, tousling his hair, "Though I think you'd look pretty cute with a sunburn."

"Shut up." I blushed again. I probably looked sunburned right about now.

"Jesus Christ," Maia muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

Jake plopped down next to me on the sand, causing a small cascade of droplets from his wet hair. "What's the verdict on swimming?" he asked, grinning.

"Verdict?" I chuckled. "Well, Your Honor, the defense rests. I'm not risking a sunburn today."

"Fair enough," he laughed, throwing an arm around my shoulders. I felt a delightful shiver run down my spine. Maia gave an exaggerated gagging sound, and I shot her a glare.

The afternoon slipped away in a blur of sandcastles, sandwiches, and laughter. We played beach volleyball with some locals, and Jake managed to convince me to dip my toes in the water, despite my protests about UV indexes and skin cancer. I just couldn't seem to say no to him. I never wanted to, really. How could I when he flashed me this big, brown puppy dog eyes and pouted? The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the scene. The colors of the sunset were breathtaking—shades of pink, orange, and purple painted across the sky. I sighed contentedly, feeling a sense of peace settle within me. The worries of home, and even Tommy's messages, felt like distant echoes in the back of my mind. After the sun disappeared below the horizon, we gathered our things and made our way back to our cars.

"So did you get her number?" asked Kai absentmindedly, as we all dried off. It was getting late, evening breeze beginning to pick up.

"Hm?" Jake's brow furrowed.

"The girl you were talking to earlier," he said, gesturing aimlessly at the lifeguard tower.

"I mean, she offered it to me..." Jake trailed off. I held my breath. "But nah," he shook his head.

"She was hot."

"Yeah, Jake," Maia tilted her head, gazing at him shrewdly. "What possible reason could you have for not taking the hot girl's phone number?"

He shrugged, "Wasn't really my type."

"Hot girls aren't your type?"

"Nope."

"What is your type then?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I would actually."

Jake took a long breath, and I found myself waiting on the edge of my seta to hear his answer. What was his type?

"Grannies primarily," Jake replied. "A great-aunt will do it for me too, in a pinch. Helps when they're in pastel wool sets and have bifocals." He nodded very seriously, "Bifocals are such a turn on." I giggled in spite of myself.

"Bifocals?" Maia folded her arms, unamused.

"That's right, Maia. Bifocals," he said, smirking. "Don't take me to a nursing home."

I laughed, "You're awful."

"That's what they tell me," Jake grinned. "C'mon Randall, let's go home."

The drive home was filled with laughter and tired banter. As we approached the familiar sight of the house, I couldn't shake the feeling that this trip was changing something within me. I couldn't quite figure out what that something was yet. But it was happening. That much I knew.

Back at the house, we settled into the routine we had established over the past week. Dinner, laughter, and the occasional argument about whose turn it was to do the dishes. The familiarity of it all felt comforting, and yet, there was an undercurrent of change in the air.

As the night deepened, and the sounds of the ocean outside our window provided a soothing backdrop, I found myself sitting on the porch, lost in thought. The rhythmic crash of the waves mirrored the swirl of emotions within me.

My phone buzzed again, interrupting the quiet moment. It was another message from Tommy.

Tommy: soph

I gulped, distracted momentarily by the sound of gravel crunching underneath tires. A black Jeep rolled to a stop in the driveway, and I heard Abby's unmistakable flirty giggle, and my stomach soured. She couldn't have brought someone home? Could she?

My suspicions were confirmed when a tattooed man emerged from the drivers seat, wearing a leather jacket. God, he practically oozed douchebag. It was summer in one of the most humid places in the world and he was wearing a fucking leather jacket.

Abby always had the worst taste in men. Her taste in girls was pretty shit too, to be honest. But Abby didn't care. She never stayed with one person long enough to.

"...kid sister..." I heard snippets of their conversation drift towards me, as they came closer to the house. So she was bringing him inside. Cool. Would've appreciated a heads up, Abs. "...bother us..."

"Hey, Sophie girl," Abby smiled, eyes too bright, cheeks flushed. She leaned into the side of the tatted douche, "This is Xander."

"Cool," I gritted my teeth. "I didn't know you were bringing company over, Abs."

"I figured you and Jake had plans tonight," she hummed. "Or else I would've texted." No. She wouldn't have. Because this was just the way Abby operated. But I got the hint. Loud and clear.

The pair of them stumbled through the screen door, giggling and whispering. I could have vomited. There was now a strange man in the house. Cool. So cool. That was so awesome and fantastic and great.

"Hey, you want get out of here?" Jake appeared behind me, dangling the keys to the truck from his fingertips. His voice was soft, understanding.

I nodded gratefully, "Let's go."

The car ride was quiet, peaceful as we rattled down the highway.

"You have a particular place in mind, Sherlock?" I asked, as he turned onto a winding, red dirt road.

"Maybe," he smiled mysteriously, coming to a grinding halt at the top of the hill.

We found ourselves on the top of the truck, lying on our backs, immersed in the vastness of the sky. I took a deep breath, letting the night air fill my lungs. The stars sparkled above, a celestial dance unfolding in the vast canvas of the Hawaiian sky.

"I love the stars I began, my voice softer now, "my mom— she knew all about constellations. It was like she had this secret connection with the universe."

Jake turned his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Really? That sounds amazing. What was her favorite constellation?"

A bittersweet smile played on my lips. "Orion. She used to say it reminded her that even in the darkest of nights, there's still a source of light and guidance." I swallowed down the lump in my throat. I never talked about my mother. Never. Not even with Reagan and Tommy. Tommy hadn't eve known her. He met me after— after.

"Sounds like a wise woman," Jake remarked, his gaze returning to the stars.

"Yeah," I replied, a hint of nostalgia in my voice. "She'd take me and Abby outside on clear nights, point out the constellations, and tell me stories about the heroes and myths behind them. It was our little tradition."

The truck bed beneath us felt softer, almost like a memory-imbued cushion. I continued, "That was the first thing I learned to draw. The stars. I'd doodle them everywhere." Silence enveloped us for a moment, broken only by the distant sound of the waves. Jake's eyes held a mix of understanding and empathy.

"What do you draw now?"

"Places mostly," I said, shutting my eyes. "Faces sometimes. I love being able to capture fleetingness. Art is a point of view, and I think..." I noticed as I was speaking that Jake's gaze moved from my eyes to my lips, a hint of a smile on his face. My heartbeat sped up, a tingly feeling spreading through me. Those damn dimples. I was so distracted I could barely get the words out, barely think about anything besides his eyes flicking from mine to my mouth. Eyes, mouth. Eyes, mouth. Smile.

My face grew warm, and I tried to convince myself it was from the heat. Who was I kidding?

I'd quite like to draw him, I thought to myself. The smug quirk of his mouth and those damn dimples. I'd sketch the strong lines of his jaw, the tendons of his arms. Wiry veins and muscle. All I wanted was to capture that glint in his eyes, irises golden like the setting sun.

"I still love to draw the sky, too," I kept my back to him, trying to ignore how fast my heart was beating. The proximity of his fingertips to mine I knew if I looked at him it would only get worse. "Beautiful," I asked him, "don't you think?"

"Beautiful." Jake repeated softly. "Yeah." he murmured, voice a mere whisper.

I finally gathered the nerve to turn my gaze away from the brilliant night sky. I wanted to know what he really thought. I dared a glance, and found him staring right at me, his deep, brown eyes locked with my own. I blushed, biting my lower lip, "The stars are up there, Sherlock."

He grinned, "I know."

Damn it. There go the butterflies again.

eek!

i finished a chapter!

so unlike me tbh???

i ate?

please comment and vote 

begging

see you in another six months 

(kidding kind of)

bless,

colleen