a hui hou - until we meet again

Bad dreams always seem to find Emerson. It seems flying across the country didn't help with this fact.

He wakes up with a start, his brow covered with beaded sweat and his breath shallow. Eyes closing tightly, he reopens them with a slow exiting breath. Looking down at his hands, he releases the thick white blanket from his clenched fists and runs a hand through his dark hair.

Memories torment him while he's awake, he's used to that. He can control it. At night, however, he's imprisoned in his own mind as he runs ramped, repeating heartache and pain again and again.

"Emerson?" Isaac's voice croaks from the other side of the room, his eyes squinting against the morning light shining through the window, "You good, man?"

"I'm fine." He forces, pushing his blankets off before slowly standing, his back and knees cracking slightly as he does, "Ow." He mumbles as soon as the bathroom door is closed, his sore muscles constricting in pain.

When his eyes meet his reflection in the mirror, his sighs. The redness across his nose and cheeks indicates that his sunscreen didn't completely do its job. With a shrug, his hand reaches forward and turns on the cold water, splashing it onto the surface of his face to wake himself up and distract him from the ache in his body.

After showering and brushing his teeth, a knock sounds from the other side of the door, "Hey, some of us need to shower too you know." Alex mumbles. That's something else about Emerson's obnoxious friend; he's not a morning person.

He wordlessly opens the door, standing a few inches taller than him as he steps aside, "It's all yours."

Alex brushes past him, his blonde hair sticking up oddly, "I was starting to think you were doing your makeup again."

"Shut up, I lost that bet and you know it." Emerson chuckles, shaking the towel over his hair.

"Sure sure." Alex smirks before he door closes.

With a flat stare in his direction, Emerson shakes his head and walks over to the unmade bed. The great thing about sharing the queen sized bed, as weird as it is, with Rhyme is that the guy barely moves as he slumbers. This makes it easier to perfect the bed in a shorter amount of time.

"You know you don't have to do that, right?" Rhyme chuckles, "Once we leave, room service will come and do it for us."

Emerson clears his throat, "I don't like the way they do it."

Rhyme pauses before saying, "I understand. Go ahead and do it your way, I'm going downstairs to grab some free breakfast." He rubs his palms together, "Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"Uh..." Emerson breathes, "Maybe an orange or something? Actually, no. The peel gets stuck on my fingers, can I have an apple instead?" He laughs.

His friend chuckles along with him, nodding, "Yeah, I'll be right back. Tell Alex that if he's in there too long I'll get after him. We all need in there."

"You can't rush perfection!" Alex yells from the shower.

"Scratch that." Rhyme rolls his eyes, "I'll be giving him a swift kick in the pants as soon as he steps out of the bathroom."

"And I'll help." Emerson agrees.

"I hate both of you!" Alex shouts.

Both of them look at each other with annoyed expressions yet Emerson can't help but chuckle at his friend's usual idiotic behavior.

ⅼ ❝ all i ever wanted was a symphony all around me, running through me. and your love is a song. ❞ ⅼ

"Today what we'll be doing is a little mondain but you can't come to Hawaii and not go to the beach. So, if you're up to it, we can rent a few boards and catch some waves?" Rosalind grins at the group as she stands in the center our hotel room with a notebook in hand, "But, of course, I have other options."

"No, I think that sounds like fun. But...I don't know how to surf." Gwen laughs.

Rosalind grins, her dark blue baseball cap covering her light eyes slightly, "I'll teach whoever wishes to learn. I've been surfing since I was fourteen and, it so happens, I am CPR certified so it's perfectly safe."

Emerson can't help but think of her story involving her own wipe out and near death. He raises his hand, "Excuse me." He begins, earning everyone's attention, "I don't know that I'm comfortable with that."

"The idea of me giving you CPR or surfing?" She smiles slightly, cocking her head to the side confidently.

An irking feeling envelopes Emerson's chest, his face turning slightly red as Alex chuckles to himself in the corner, "Surfing obviously. I read somewhere that in ninety percent of cases, drowning is the most common way to die while surfing."

"I see." Rosalind's face softens, "And you're afraid of drowning?"

Emerson's face becomes guarded, "Who isn't?"

She doesn't respond right away, her lips pursing to the side as she thinks and regards everyone else in the group who all remain silent, "Very well. We can figure out something else to do if you want."

"No no." Emerson cuts in, sensing his friends' disappointment, "We can do it."

"You're sure?" She raises a perfectly shaped brow, holding her notebook to her chest, "Because I have other options."

"That we will need for the next two weeks to keep everyone occupied. So let's do it." Emerson insists, his heart beating hard at the thought of the waves beating furiously against the sand and someone being tumbled around inside one helplessly. His breath becomes shallow.

Rosalind studies him for half a second before turning to the rest of his friend, "Okay. Let's get ready to go then. If any of you happen to already be ready, you can head down to the lobby."

Everyone disperses, the girls heading back through the door between the two rooms. As it closes, Rosalind grabs Rhyme's arm, holding him back, "Hey can I make a suggestion, Rhyme?"

The red head nods graciously, "Yes of course, please do." He shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

She gives him a small smile, handing him a piece of paper, "I noticed yesterday that you guys took an Uber back to your hotel and I'm guessing you took one there as well. I just think that'll get pretty expensive in the long run so maybe it'd be wiser to rent a vehicle of some sort? If you guys can manage to rent one then I can always take a few of you guys in my truck."

Rhyme stares at the piece of paper with furrowed brows, obviously doing the math, "I'll talk to Emerson about it." He mumbles.

"Why Emerson?" Rosalind's eyes dart over to him as he searches through his suitcase for a book he brought: Moonwalking With Einstein, a book about how we are the sum of our own memories. Whether he found this interesting because of his own experiences or if he simply found it to be an enlightening read, he doesn't know.

"He has a good sense of money. We never would have been able to save for this trip without his insight." He explains lowly, "Hey, Emerson."

At the sound of his name, Emerson perks up, "Yeah?"

"Can you take a look at these prices Rosalind is showing me for rental cars?" Rhyme scratches the back of his head, "You know how bad I am with money." He chuckles lightly.

Emerson takes one last look at his suitcase before zipping it back up with a sigh and standing slowly. He approaches Rosalind, holding out his hand. She points at Rhyme who hands over the paper quickly.

After looking it over, chewing slightly at his bottom lip, he hands her the lined notebook paper back and nods once, "You're right, it makes more sense to rent a vehicle for the next two weeks we're here. The rate is lower per week than it is per day in the long run so I'd go with it."

Her head nods, her ponytail brushing against the skin on her back, "Awesome. We can go pick one up now if you're down to do that before heading to the beach? The thing is that none of us are legally old enough to rent one quite yet so I'm going to need one of your parents to call and do it? Will that be a problem?" She winces nervously.

Rhyme and Emerson exchange a glance, having a silent argument: you call yours.

The common thing about everyone in this group is their need to be independent. They assured their parents that they had everything under control. Not to mention that, ever since his freshmen year in high school, Emerson has done his best to make his own decisions and keep everything in his life perfectly planned and precise. To be safe in every aspect no matter what.

"I'll call my dad." Rhyme sighs, "I'll just give him my bank information and everyone can pay me back." Emerson can tell he's not exactly thrilled about the responsibility but he appreciates the volunteer.

Rosalind presses her lips together and nods once, "Okay, sounds good. As soon as the information goes through we can go pick it up! Is that okay?"

"Yeah sounds great." Rhyme returns her smile before pulling out his phone and stepping out of the room.

Emerson stands there quietly next to Rosalind who is preoccupied with something on her phone, her brows furrowed. Alex and Isaac seem to be either in the bathroom or down in the lobby, and the girls will, most likely, not be ready for another fifteen to twenty minutes.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Emerson turns on his heel and chooses to continue his search for his novel. After a few moments, he closes his eyes and breathes a breath of frustration through his nose, still empty handed and feeling anxious with the mess he's made of his suitcase, the clothes rumpled and out of place.

"What are you looking for?" A voice speaks over his shoulder, making him jump, "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Rosalind chuckles.

Emerson's lips remain in a focused straight line, his eyes narrowing as he tries to remember where he put it. He never loses anything. Ever.

"Do you need help?" She asks another question, irking Emerson deeply. There's nothing she can do to help.

"No, I'm fine." He mutters, knowing that if he doesn't respond she'll only ask again.

After standing there for a few more seconds, Rosalind gives up and disappears from behind his shoulder. He immediately feels more relaxed.

He finally finds the book after searching for the entirety of the time it takes both of the girls to get ready and burst through the door. Claire comes to stand beside him wearing a white bikini top and a pair of shorts over the rest of her swimsuit, her backpack thrown over the shoulder.

"Hey." She chirps, grinning up at him, "You ready? Everyone else is already in the lobby, I figured you would be the first down there." She chuckles.

Gwen stands behind her typing away at her phone, "Yeah Isaac just texted me and said they've got the rental and they're waiting very impatiently."

"That didn't take long." Claire thinks aloud.

"I'm ready." Emerson answers his friend's previous question, "I just had to find my book and then I had to fix my suitcase." He looks with relief at the now tidy piles of clothes and organized sections.

Claire nods with understanding, choosing not to question his obsessive organization, "You're going to catch up on some reading? I was hoping you'd at least try to surf. Who knows, you might really like it." She walks alongside him as they exit the room, making sure every light is off before leaving. Her tone is careful as if not to spook him.

Emerson watches his own footsteps until they make it to the elevator, his teeth chewing slightly on his bottom lip, "I might enjoy a lot of things if I didn't feel like having a complete anxiety attack even at the thought of doing it." He tells her quietly, meeting her gaze.

She nods once again, accepting his answer, "I won't make you do anything you're not ready for."

Her comforting tone helps sooth his anxiousness but a small part of him feels like a child. Helpless to the fears inside his head.

✰✰✰

Aloha! I'm currently sitting in the sun soaking up inspiration and good old vitamin D.

I hope your week is off to a great start! Don't forget to comment your thoughts.

Much love.