| "Wanna tell me what you're doing?" Justin asked, his tired eyes filled with resentment and anger. JC stared at him, his lips curled up in a smile. "Nothing," he answered, hiding the letter behind his back. Lance stood just to the left, a silly lopsided grin on his face. "Come on, Justin! Snap out of it!" he scolded, shoving JC aside. "We're in paradise here, and you've been acting like it's the end of the world." He lifted Justin's feet off the bed, and shoved them to the floor. "Get your ass dressed and let's at least go to the pool." "I don't want to for the hundreth time. Leave me alone. Why don't you two get it?" His voice was terse, so much hidden hurt in it. He swiftly placed his feet back on the bed and frowned. In the back of his mind, he knew they were trying to help. It wasn't their fault he was alone in this island paradise without anyone to share it with. Except them. But, shit, he was with them for most of the year. He had looked so forward to bringing her with him on this mini vacation, but now she was gone. Hated his guts. History. Lance sat on the edge of the bed and looked at JC for help. Justin had been in this funk for days, ever since she announced she wasn't coming to Tortola with them. They had just over a week left on this gorgeous, quiet island, and Justin had barely left the suite. It didn't make it any easier that both their girlfriends had made the trip. But now, the letter made some promises that could cheer him up. Maybe. "I need you to get dressed right now and come down to the pool," Lance repeated as JC dug into his friend's bag and tossed his bathing suit at him. Justin swatted at it and growled. "Get out! Please!" He was close to tears, and crying was not something he felt like doing in front of them. "Shit! Go!" He rolled onto his stomach and away from the door, staring out over the teal blue water which normally would beckon to him. The island was so tiny and private there was no need for security. That had been the anticipation when making the plans all those months ago, plans he made with her. Now, just because of a tiny misunderstanding, she dumped him, and their vacation. He listened as the door clicked shut, and let his tears fall. He wasn't sure if they were tears of sadness or anger, but they annoyed him just the same. The pity his friend's were showing him didn't help. Everyday they came to his suite, sometimes with their girlfriends, sometimes alone, and begged him to join them. Fifth wheel was not a good role for him, so he declined, not always nicely. He'd wanted to stay home, not even come, but Lance made him, forced him into it, promised him that he would feel better in a beautiful paradise setting instead of just sitting home in Florida feeling sorry for himself. So he went, got himself on the plane, sat next to an empty seat, and listened to the girly giggles of his friend's travel companions. That's when he grabbed the flight attendant and insisted she bring him alcohol, which she did, along with a sweet invitation to join the mile high club, which he declined. He was still in mourning, but after the fifth little bottle, he sought the pretty woman out and accepted her offer, much to the disgusted looks of his friends. Fuck them, because he was miserable, and if a few minutes of ecsatcy would dull the pain, then who was he to turn it down. Naturally, the guilt consumed him until he remembered he didn't have a girlfriend anymore to feel guily about. So he drank some more, puked in the little bag the airline was so kind to provide, then passed out. "He didn't buy it?" Lance looked down at his girlfriend, sunning herself by the side of the pool. "No, he won't budge." JC glanced at the letter again. Justin's girlfriend was due in just a short time, and they all wanted to surprise him. "Why is she coming?" JC's woman asked, stepping into the pool gingerly. "To apologize," he replied, heading into the cool water after her. "She says she's sorry. But he's so fucked up, I don't know that he'll take it." Lance wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and sighed. "If we could get him to come down here and turn that pasty white ass of his into a tanned one, I think he'll feel better. Then when she arrives tonight, he'll be in better spirits." "We can't force him," she reminded him, leaning back into his cool skin. "So, whatever happens will just have to happen." Justin pulled himself from the bed and stared out over the ocean, so peaceful and calm. The stubble on his chin was itching like crazy and he was beginning to think maybe he should just fly home and forget it all. The constant drinking had muddled his mind, and quite honestly, if there was no booze, he didn't know how he'd be standing it all. His heart just hurt, dulled a bit, but still painful. Absently, he rested his hand over it, and reached for another beer. It didn't matter. His heart was broken, once again. True to most of his in depth inteveiws, he just couldn't trust women. He gave too much love to them, and they constantly tossed it right back in his face. Out in the horizon, he could see several native boats bouncing around in the waves. Tears pricked his eyes once more as he thought of all the smashed plans. He intended to hire a boat of his own and take her out for a romantic dinner on the water, just the two of them, for an evening under the stars. Pressing his eyes shut, he let the bottle fall from his hands and clentched his fists. Fuck her. Why did she leave him? He had no answers, only excruciating questions. He didn't understand why she left him. Over his ex girlfriend? There just had to be more. One hug and simple kiss didn't mean his loyalties ran any less deep. She never let him explain, just yelled and then she was gone. Immature. His foot found the fallen beer bottle and he kicked it across the room, hoping to get some satisfaction from the force. There wasn't any, and he was disappointed. The stench from under his arms reminded him he hadn't showered in two days. He let out a bitter snort, and walked to his bathroom, the one he'd specially reserved for her, with the heart shaped jacuzzi. One time she told him she always wanted to bathe in something like that, so he'd made sure their suite was equipped with on. Ignoring the tub in the corner, he stripped off his boxers and turned the water on, making sure it was hot. When steam filled the huge room, he stepped inside and stood silently under the spray, letting the heated pellets pound him until his skin was red and his body was numb. He didn't hear his phone ring, nor did he hear the insistant bang on the door. He waited until the water turned icy, then stepped out, feeling slightly better. "Justin!" Justin groaned when he heard Lance's voice calling out from the other side of the door. How did he manage to get into his room? In Tortola, there was no need for such high security. Vaguely, he recalled the front desk clerk telling them that they rarely had locked doors, and the crime rate was less than 1%. He wished he'd locked his door now. "What?" he hissed back, wrapping a towel around his narrow waist. He wiped the mirror with his forearm, clearing a face sized spot, and stared at his red rimmed eyes, his tired face, and his untamed hair. That was it. He was catching the next flight home. No more of this nonsense. "Dude, get out here!" Oh for chissakes, Lance didn't know when to stop. Stamping out into the room, he stared at his friend with hard, unblinking eyes. "For the last time. Get out! I'm in no mood." Lance rolled his eyes, and tossed the letter at him. "Look, it was supposed to be a surprise, but I had a feeling you were beyond that right now." He watched as Justin looked at him with confusion. "Read it!" Justin pryed the letter from it's envelope and scanned the words. She was coming, due to arrive that evening. His heart jumped and he chewed on the inside of his cheek, unsure of how to react with Lance watching him. "Damn," he whispered. "So, come on down with us. Get some sun on that pasty face of yours, and relax. All is well." Lance clapped him on the shoulder and smiled, pushing his sunglasses ontop of his head. "Justin? You okay?" Justin frowned, placing the letter beside the table. He sunk down into the matress and gulped. "The flight attendant." "Shit," Lance groaned, sitting down next to him, thinking. "You don't have to tell her you know," he said. "No harm, no foul." "What the fuck does that mean? No harm, no foul. I fucked someone. She'll kill me. She'll leave me for sure, again." "Then don't tell her." Lance stood up and streched. "I'm telling you. Don't do it. Besides, she did break up with you." Justin nodded, hating the fact he'd have to keep this. For once, Lance was right though. If he did tell her, it would be over for real, forever. He was fortunate that she was coming back. Pulling on his bathing suit, he made his descion. She would never know. Not ever. He headed out to the pool, ready for some sun, hoping all his dreams would come true this time. |
| HOPE by destiny |