Three Words: A Novella Collection (38 page)

I snort. “That
leaves me with a very short list.”

“
Funny. Not. I’ll see you next week. Rested and ready for the
beginning of our last year as students.”

“
Bye, Em.” I hang up the phone. That goofy smile is on my face
again.

Chapter 3

The next day
is Friday. In a few more days I’ll be going home to reality. The
school year will be upon me and I’ll have tonnes to occupy my time.
It’s frightening to think it’s ten months till I’ll never be at
school again — I’ll be joining the workforce like a real adult — so
I suppose I should make the most of this time. I won’t have
holidays like this again.

After
breakfast, I get dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top. I pull
my hair into a ponytail and put on a cap and some sunglasses.
Exercise has been sadly lacking in my daily routine of late but
after my over-sharing effort with Nicholas yesterday, I feel ready.
The man should be a counsellor. He’s done more for my mental health
in twenty-four hours than anyone’s been able to in a year.

I leave the
house, closing the beach gate firmly behind me. I walk down onto
the firmer sand near the shore. I jog for a while and then, when
I’m too tired to run anymore I take off my shoes and socks and
paddle in the shallow water. It’s not as hot as it was yesterday so
I dawdle for what must be a good half hour with my ankles in the
surf before I realise how far I’ve come. I’m miles from anywhere,
in a part of the bay I’ve never ventured to before, which is sort
of nice. I’m loving these new feelings of exploration. I feel free,
the way you’re supposed to feel when you’re twenty-one, I
guess.

Reaching the
edge of the beach where the sand is punctuated by huge bleached
boulders, I stop. I look in both directions. I scan the dunes at
the top of the beach but for as far as I can see the beach is
deserted. There’s a flock of seagulls fighting over a dead fish but
other than that, nothing. I look left and right again. I bite my
lip with indecision. Then — and I don’t know how this happens or
why — I strip to nothing, leaving my clothes on the beach. I pelt
into the ocean. The coolness of the water hits my skin. The
adrenalin rush is instant. That feeling I’ve longed for, from doing
something impulsive, is exhilarating. So exhilarating that I
literally whoop with joy… until I realise I look like a complete
nut job and stop myself from doing it again.

After a second
or two my body adjusts to the temperature, so I swim further out
past the break before turning over to float on my back. As a rule,
I don’t like to be where I can’t feel the bottom. But today I just
feel like doing it, stretching myself a little more. It must have
been that swim with Nicholas. He’s made me see what I was missing.
I still don’t like the bits where I can’t see below me though.

The sun is
blinding, so I close my eyes and let its warmth seep through my
lids. I listen to the gurgling of the waves under the water.

This is
fabulous, I think. I could stay here all day.

It’s peaceful
and liberating somehow, being naked in the water. I can understand
why people say skinny-dipping is fun. Having the water on your body
without the barrier of clothing feels different, not like being in
the bath at all. Although, at this moment, I’m starting to wish I
was in my bath.

Alone.

There’s a
splashing noise to my left and a sort of coughing sound, like
someone choking on a jellyfish. I open my eyes and there — sitting
on a surfboard — staring at me like I’m an apparition, is a
man.

The scream
that comes from my mouth as it fills with water is more of a
terrified gurgling yelp. I pull my body under the surface and try
pointlessly to cover myself but there’s only so much skin two hands
can shield.

Oh shit. Oh
shit. Oh shit.

Suddenly, the
idea of being naked isn’t so appealing. And treading water while
attempting to keep my privates from being on show isn’t that easy.
I could drown if he doesn’t avert his eyes.

“
Hello,” he says, as calm and composed as if he comes across
naked girls in the waves every day. “Do you need a
hand?”

I don’t know
how to respond to this. I am undressed and he is not. He clearly
has the advantage.

I spit out the
water and give him a strained smile. Below the surface my feet are
pounding the water for dear life. The water that felt refreshing
thirty seconds ago is now giving me goosebumps. I think I’m going
into shock. “No. Thank you.”

He points to
the left. “You’re getting pretty close to the reef—”

There’s a
reef? Could this get any worse?

“
And there’s a rip over that way—”

I guess it
could.

“—
Are you sure you can get back to the beach?”

Even if I
couldn’t, I cannot suffer the mortification of being naked on this
man’s surfboard, if
that’s
what he’s offering. I’m never
skinny-dipping again. Never.

“
I think I’ll be fine. I’m a strong swimmer.”

In my head, I
am.

“
Sure?”

“
Positive.” And to demonstrate I commence a freestyle back to
shore, attempting to look as if I narrowly missed selection for the
Olympic swim team. His seeing my bottom is preferable to seeing my
other bits.

The man
paddles along beside me. His mouth is bent in thinly disguised
amusement. I see it every time I swing my face in his direction.
He’s so annoying.

“
Watch out for that coral there,” he says. “You’ll cut
yourself to ribbons.”

I look into
the depths I was ignoring to find I am, indeed, only millimetres
from a huge mound of the stuff. Dammit. I swim back the way I came
but a wave comes and I go forward instead. I feel the coral rip
into my leg and it hurts like crazy but I’m not going to cry. I’m
not. I’m just going to keep on swimming.

In the other
direction.

The man
follows at a safe distance. I think he senses I’m not in the mood
for conversation, possibly because I am mortally embarrassed and
naked.

“
Did you know you have a mole on your back?” he asks. “Just
near the dimple of your bum?”

The absolute
cheek of him. He’s perving on my arse.

“
Yes. I did.” My voice is clipped but then I am trying to talk
while swimming. I wish he’d leave me to get to the shore in
peace.

“
You should get it checked out. It could be
cancerous.”

Is he for
real?

“
I was born with it. It’s always been there.” Honestly, I
don’t know why I’m even bothering to respond, I’m only encouraging
him. I pick up my pace a little which is difficult when swimming
with one’s face out of water.

“
No need to get narky. It was just an observation. Are you
sure you don’t want to hop on my board? Your leg is pissing
blood.”

I look behind
me to see a red streak trailing in my wake. Great. If it’s not bad
enough I’m being trailed by a man who looks like Patrick Swayze in
Point Break —
which I’ve seen at least thirteen times
because it was Mum’s favourite movie — now I’ll have sharks coming
to eat me for dinner.

“
I’m fine,” I reiterate and keep swimming.

There’s
silence for a while. I can see the shore, but it isn’t as close as
I thought so I decide to slow down to catch my breath. It’s then
that I hear singing. God-awful, tuneless singing. I think it’s a
song from
The Little Mermaid
movie. Surfboard guy is making
fun of me because I’m bare-bummed in the water and he’s on a board
having the time of his life looking at my bottom. Geez, I wish I
could splash him or tip him into the water but I have a feeling
that’s what he wants me to do.

“
Can you be quiet please,” I say. “Your wailing is cutting
into the peacefulness of my swim.”

“
It’s a long way. I was bored. Sure you don’t want to hop on?
I don’t mind sharing my ride.”

“
I bet you don’t.”

Dirty
perv.

I glance to
the shore. It’s not getting any closer. In fact, I think the waves
might be pushing me farther out, instead of in. And I’m feeling
quite tired and more than a little scared. This doing new things is
a load of cods. I’m going to stay where I can touch the bottom from
now on. Assuming I make it to shore.

“
I’m not sitting on the board,” I clarify, just in case he
thought he was going to get a proper eyeful. “I’ll hold on and you
can tow me.”

“
Yes, Your Majesty.”

“
There’s no need to be rude.”

“
There’s no need to behave like a diva. You’re the one
drowning, not me. And I have seen a naked girl before, in case
you’re wondering. It’s not like I’m doing this to cop an
eyeful.”

Is he saying
I’m nothing special? That’s even more insulting. Deciding there’s
no reason for me to converse with him on our journey, I grab hold
of his board, my eyes trained firmly on the shore. I tilt my chin
in the air to reinforce the fact that I will not be conversing.
Damn cheek.

The man begins
to paddle, pulling me along. I kick my legs lazily to help him. The
trail of blood grows longer. I feel faint thinking about it.

“
Out of curiosity, what exactly were you doing out here
without clothing?” he asks.

I can feel
myself redden, even though I’m in the cold water. “Why? Do I need a
permit?”

He holds up
his hands in submission. “I was only asking.”

I relent. “I
don’t know. I was jogging along and I saw the beach was empty and I
had an overwhelming desire to throw myself naked into the
waves.”

“
Are you always so spontaneous?”

“
Never. In fact, this is the first time I’ve been
skinny-dipping in my life. And the last.”

He chuckles.
“First time for everything. But, next time, you might want to check
the water before you hurtle yourself into it unclothed. I’m pretty
sure that bunch of blokes snorkelling out the back of the reef saw
the lot.”

He’s joking.
He has to be joking. I’m not sure — because I’m not, not,
not
looking at him — but I think he winked. And those
snorkels sticking up on the reef are imaginary too. Not.

We reach the
beach and the man hops from his board. He pauses and turns back,
his face a mixture of curiosity and amusement as he sees me trying
to hide myself behind his board. I look like a seal with one fin
flapping about in the shallows.

“
What
are
you doing?” he asks.

“
Waiting for you to turn away. Face that way.” I point up the
beach. He does so and I leap from the water, making a mad dash
across the sand toward my clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten
dressed so fast. My tank top is clinging to the wet of my skin
which in hindsight makes dressing so quickly a rather bad idea. My
nipples are clearly visible through my top and the crotch of my
shorts is clinging where it shouldn’t. Blood is running down my
shin. The cut is stinging like mad.

“
You can turn now,” I say, knowing I might as well still be
naked for all the soggy clothing is covering.

He faces
me.

And that’s
when I’m hit with the full force of him. I’ve never seen anything
like this man before. He’s not handsome in the traditional sense
but there’s something about him that’s charismatic. And it has
nothing to do with his smart mouth. The man has deep brown eyes and
tanned skin. His strong, square jaw is manly and his smile is
crooked but adorable, the kind that tells you he knows exactly how
adorable he is. His hair is dark with flecks of amber and gold,
probably from time spent in the sun. He’s not the type of man who
stands out in the crowd yet there’s something about him nobody
could ignore. He’s like, literally, hotter than a furnace full of
molten glass. So hot, in fact, my anger at him seems to be
diffusing. Which is incredibly confusing, given he’s the most
annoying person I’ve ever met.

“
I’m Joel,” he says.

I put my hand
in his and something odd happens to my tongue. It appears to have
lost the memo telling it to speak. It’s as if lightning has struck
and rendered me mute.

“
And you are?” he enquires. His voice is deep, yet quiet. I
can tell he’s feeling it too.

Silence. I’m
in stunned silence. All I’m capable of is profuse blinking and
goggle-eyed staring.

“
Lorelei? Nixie? No wait, Ariel?” He smirks again.

The cheek of
him. I straighten, slightly angered at the comparison. I am not the
Little Mermaid
. Though I am impressed that he can rattle off
that many mythical women in one breath.

“
Sadie. I’m Sadie.” I stumble over the words like I’ve
developed a severe case of dementia.

“
Not a cleaning lady, I’m guessing?”

There’s always
one who wants to poke fun of my name and that old song from the
sixties. I give him a look. “Not a single one in my family.”

“
Can I give you a lift back to the bay,
Sadie-the-not-cleaning-lady? I gather that’s where you came from.
Seeing you’re not a mermaid. You’re not are you?”

“
Nope. Just a girl.” I point my toe in his direction as if to
prove the point. Silly really, considering he can see my feet for
himself. And mermaids don’t exist.

“
Glad to hear it. I was beginning to wonder.” He flashes a
cocky, very white-toothed smile at me and I feel that tingle of
chemistry. I know I shouldn’t feel that way. I mean, he’s so
irritating.