12 Hours In Paradise (18 page)

“Question thirty-four. ‘Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?’”

“My cell phone,” I said. “Because I put you into my contacts before my battery died. And then there’s our picture too. How about you?”

“
This
picture.” Arash smoothed the drawing across his thigh. “I’m not going to let anything happen to it. Who knows, it could be valuable one day,” he added. “To someone.”

***

“I can’t believe we’re almost done. And I can’t believe it’s only been…what, about twelve hours since I first saw you in the cookie store?”

“Almost exactly,” he said. “Seems more like twelve days.”

“So why us, do you think? Why me? Why tonight? Is it fate?”

“Why did you come
with
me? I don’t think it’s fate, I think it was our conscious decision. I know I just told you there are always do-overs, and I meant it when it comes to what happens between you and me. Tonight. Hopefully past tonight. But I look at my father and I know that sometimes in life there aren’t do-overs. Does it sound like a cliché when I say you have to seize the moment when it presents itself?”

“Clichés are clichés for a reason. They’re repeated so much because they usually hit on the truth.”

“Let’s keep going, we’re almost there. Question thirty-five.”

“Let me read the last two.”

“Here you go.” He handed me his phone.

“Question thirty-five. Wow, I don’t like this one. ‘Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?’”

“My choice is just between two people,” Arash said. “But the answer is easy…my mother.”

“Why’s that?”

“For obvious reasons my mother and I have become very close in the past year. And anyway, my father’s as good as dead. It makes me sick to my stomach to say that, but it’s true. Sometimes I think a little of him is still there, but most of the time I’m sure he’s not. And you?”

“It would be Chester, I guess. I mean it would be horrible to lose my mom or dad. And losing my granny will be awful when it happens, I already know that. But Chester is…he’s supposed to stick around and grow old with me. And I kind of helped to raise him. But I don’t want to talk about this question anymore, so are you ready for the last question?”

“Fire away.”

“‘Share a personal problem and ask your partner’s advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen.’”

Arash’s phone chimed with an incoming text, and he glanced down at the screen. When he didn’t look up, and then let out a heavy sigh, I was worried.

“Harrison?” I asked.

“Yep.” He put the phone back in his pocket. His lips were tight. Even his posture stiffened artificially.

“Something wrong?”

“One of my roommates, Nate, was caught climbing from our balcony to the one next door. A guest in the room facing ours saw him and called the front desk.”

“And?”

“And Mrs. Coburn came to find out what was going on. And I wasn’t there.”

“Uh…oh…”

“Yes, uh-oh. But don’t you worry about it,” he said just as his phone rang. He pulled his phone out, then looked at the screen. “Mrs. Coburn.”

It rang two more times. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. Then he tapped Accept.

“Hello.” He held the phone an inch or two from his ear so I could hear.

“Where are you, Arash?”

Her voice was deep for a woman.

But comforting.

Her question was accusing.

But concerned.

How did I get all this from just four words? Because I knew Arash thought the world of Mrs. Coburn. Because I was hoping beyond hope she’d be the fantasy chaperone who would forgive and forget. Maybe even cover for him. Let him off with just a warning.

“I’m…I’m at the beach,” he mumbled.

“You’re aware that you’re in violation of the contract you signed?”

“I’m aware. I’m sorry, Mrs. Coburn.”

“Arash. I don’t know what to say. I didn’t expect this from you.”

“I met someone.”

“Please don’t tell me that. I don’t need to hear that.”

“I wanted to experience the perfect day and I met the right person to make that happen.”

“Arash! Stop talking right now and just listen to me.”

“And I…I’m sorry to have disappointed you.”

“You need to get back here pronto. Understood
?”

“Yes, but I have to see the young lady back to her hotel first. Is that okay?”

“Why are you asking me, Arash? You didn’t ask when you left the hotel in violation of your contract. Do you realize the liability we have when it comes to protecting our students? Do you know that what you did puts us in a very awkward situation? Maybe even jeopardizes this program? Parents will think we’re incapable of supervising their children. It’s bad enough that Nate seems to think he’s Spiderman.”

He didn’t say anything. Just stared straight ahead. He reached over and patted me on the knee as if trying to reassure me. Reassure
me
.

“So you understand the consequences?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’ll be calling your mother and booking you on the first flight home.”

“I know.”

“I could also follow up by notifying the Stanford admissions office.”

“Will you?”

“I’ll have to think about that, Arash. Get your friend to her hotel, and then get your butt back here.”

If a person could slam a cell phone down like you can slam a landline, she would have done it at that point.

“Mrs. Coburn is disappointed in me,” was all he said.

“Um,
yeah
. We’d better go. You don’t have to walk me back, I’m fine.”

“Question number thirty-six.” He ignored my comment. “I’ve disappointed Mrs. Coburn, whom I hold in high regard. How do you think I’m feeling about that?”

“Like shit,” I said.

“Not entirely,” he said. “I’m disappointed that she’s disappointed, naturally. But I have more in my life now than I did at the beginning of the night. My life is more complete. Therefore, the true answer is…I’m feeling just a little bit nervous. And you? Question thirty-six is demanding to be answered.”

“I may have just contributed to ruining the future of someone about whom I care deeply. How do you think I’m feeling about that?”

“Hopeful. Trusting that the mutual respect between counselor and counselee will survive intact and for that person…about whom you care very deeply…this is just the smallest of bumps in the road of life.”

I stood up and brushed the sand from the back of my dress. “Let’s go, Arash. I don’t want to make things worse than they already are.”

“Wait, Dorothy. Sit down. We have to do it.”

“
It?
”

“We have to look into each other’s eyes for four minutes. We didn’t finish.”

“You’re so busted. We don’t have time, do we?”

“In for a penny…”

“…in for a pound.” I sank to my knees, and he turned to face me, removing his glasses and slipping them into the pocket of his aloha shirt.

He placed one hand on my shoulder, and I did the same thing to him. I perched on the back of my heels, while he sat cross-legged. He pulled out his phone and entered four minutes into the timer app, then pressed Start.

It was the oddest feeling to be that naked and vulnerable. Eyeball to eyeball, I had to force myself not to look away. I focused on the shape and color of his eyes. Their rich mocha color. I thought I could see a black speck in his right iris, but wasn’t sure. Was that a tiny red capillary in the corner near his nose? I became fixated on the slow, languid movement of his thick, dark lashes each time they swept over the surface of his eyes, remoistening them and leaving them sparkling anew. He slid his hand from my shoulder, and I dropped mine from his. We reached for each other and laced our fingers together.

And we continued to stare.

Seconds ticked by, although I don’t know how many.

And then something strange started to happen.

In his eyes, I saw the little boy who went off to school in Switzerland. I saw the loyal and kind friend who talked late into the night with a boy he didn’t know was dying even as they spoke. I saw the son wounded by his father’s infidelity, and wounded further by his own hateful wish for the man who lay in a nursing room bed, unable to speak or feed himself. I saw the young man who supported his mother throughout her worst moments. I saw the joyful percussionist creating tunes in his head. I saw the future Stanford student with the world in front of him, to be lived according to his own terms. I saw the boy in the cookie store.

Was he laughing at me?

Was he smirking?

Was he smiling, to get my attention?

And I kept looking until I saw one final thing.

I saw the mirror image of myself reflected back through the shine in his eyes.

***

“So it’s done,” he said when the timer went off. “We finished what we set out to do. Now I should take you back.” His voice was sad.

He stood and pulled me to my feet. “I have your things,” he said. “Your slippers and your…frock.”

“My slippers and my frock? Who am I—Laura Ingalls Wilder? Who says
frock
?” I laughed to lighten the mood, but I loved that he said it. I wished for a time machine capable of freezing the moment. Just Arash and me. On the beach. Together on an adventure.

“You’re funny,” I said.

He hooked his arms around my waist and pulled me close. I was still smiling. Still glowing. Still living inside the space in his head revealed through his eyes.

“Funny ha-ha?” he asked, sliding one hand up my back in a shiver-inducing move. He combed his fingers through my hair and gently cradled my head. “Or funny peculiar?” He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.

I was ready for him as I had been the whole night. But it wasn’t until that moment. It couldn’t have been any sooner. I pushed against him. Our chests pressed together. Our tongues found each other. My hands desperately sought his hair, his cheeks, his arms, anything that could bring us closer than we already were. I felt his want for me. I was drunk with his scent. The plumeria blossom fell from my hand, no longer the sweetest thing around.

This was our adventure.

This
was paradise.

And then it was done, but it wasn’t done. Paradise was inside of me. Paradise was inside of us.

“Hurry, Arash. Let’s run!”

I was Cinderella returning from the ball. He was my prince. The clock was ready to strike twelve.

So we ran down the beach hand in hand, born again into the blooming day as fresh as our newly discovered love. We ran up the alley and down the sidewalk. We ran all the way to my hotel before we stopped, panting from sheer joy and from something else. Daring. We’d done it. We’d defied everything inside of us and everyone outside of us who told us no and we did it to be together. I knew Arash was in trouble, but I had faith in him. He could sort anything out. He’d charm Mrs. Coburn just like he charmed everyone else.

But there
was
that whole thing about him being sent home.

“I’m sorry, Arash. I’m really sorry about your trip. I’m sorry you won’t be able to hike up Diamond Head. I’m sorry you won’t be able to surf with your friends. I’m sorry Mrs. Coburn’s mad at you. I hope you don’t get in trouble with Stanford. I hope…I hope I see you again.”

“Here are your things,” he said, reaching into his bag. “I have your number. Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy and I’ll be fine.”

We walked into the lobby.

“I’m going to change in the bathroom before I go up,” I said. “I guess I’ll leave my dress in the bathroom.” It was going to be sad to change out of that dress and say good-bye to it. I wondered about the cleaning person who would find it there, abandoned after my night of pleasure. “Friend me on Facebook when you get back. I’m the only one with my name.”

But Arash was looking at something. Something behind me. I turned around.

My dad. My mom. My granny. Even Chester.

“Hi, Arash,” Chester chirped just as though we were about to go up and have another round of happy hour.

And Arash, my knight in shining armor who could handle anyone anywhere. Angry chaperones. Meth addicts. Even charging pit bulls. Arash…well, his mouth just fell open and he was speechless for the first time that night.

***

“Where the hell have you been, young lady?” my father barked, using an uncharacteristic swearword. “We’ve been beside ourselves with worry. I just sent a porter to call for the police.”