chat as we make our way through sunbathers and families, Marcus has the gift of the gab, joking, laughing, charming the pants off you, without so much as a blink of an eye.
By the time we reach Blair and John I’m all but giggling like a school girl; Blair’s questioning look makes me turn crimson with shame. I know what she’s thinking, two minutes away from Carlos and I’m all doe-eyed about Marcus, but it’s not like that. She doesn’t know they have made up now, or how impossible it is, not to be entranced by his persona.
I’m glad when he makes his excuses not to join us for a picnic and politely leaves, so he does have some tact, apparently.
Blair is immediately on my case, “That was some turn around, three hours ago you hated the guy and now your almost falling over yourself around him. What’s going on?” she has a point there.
“I had to hate him, because Carlos did, but he says they talked it through, so now I don’t have to be mean to him. And it turns out that he is actually a very intellectual, intriguing person”
“I bet” she replies raising one eyebrow.
“It’s not like that!” even as I protest, I see there is no point. She is only teasing me, but, whether she knows it or not, there is a slight element of truth to her words.
We all tuck into the picnic, staring out across the calm ocean as we chew. I downed the cocktail John got me almost as soon as I got back, so went and got another round in; John followed suit, downing his original Daiquiri and giving himself brain-freeze in the process.
“Looks like this has the makings of another drunk-fest” he says, once the pain subsides enough for him to open his eyes again.
I look at Blair, “I’m game if you are?” she says, popping a grape into her mouth.
And so it begins. We start off playing rudimental drinking games, like throw the stick at the paper cup, if you miss you drink, but if you hit it the other two drink. John is decidedly more skilled at this than Blair and I and we are soon tipsy and ganging up on him, insisting he do forfeits for rule breaks that we make up on the spot.
“He blinked when he threw that last one!” I shout out, pointing my finger an inch away from his eyes.
“You did, I saw it” slurs Blair in agreement.
“So what if I did, since when is blinking not allowed? Blair you can barely keep your eyes open!” he says trying to deflect.
“Stop trying to get out of it and drink!” Rolling his eyes at us, both smirking back at him, he dutifully takes his penalty.
It’s 18.00 before I notice the day has past and I’m a little worse for wear. “I should make a move” I tell a small butterfly, resting on my leg.
“D’ya wan me to walk you back, you’re quite drunk” John just about manages a sentence.
“No, no, I’ll be fine, you look after Blair” who is now passed out and covered in sand.
As I stumble away my mind drifts to Carlos, I hope he is back to his old self, moody Carlos sucks! Stupid Marcus, ruining everything, why’d he have to turn up anyway? He’s been gone for years but yet he chooses now to turn up again? Surely his parents spoke to him about me being here, it seems to be the talk of the resort after all. It just seems like such bad timing, but then maybe they thought if I had tied him down to his first relationship in years, then maybe I could fix this too?
It was a bit of a long shot, but apparently it worked, so who am I to argue.
I still can’t quite believe it was resolved so easily though. Carlos was venomous when he spoke about him, it just doesn’t add up that he would then forgive him without giving it a second thought.
Seriously, how have I jumped from my own broken family, straight into another one? Out of the frying pan and into the fire, is it all worth it for a holiday romance?
Is this even just a holiday romance? God I’m too drunk for such deep conversations, even if they are only with myself!
Pushing open the front door I stagger into the house, “I’m home” I sing out, expecting Carlos to reply. Instead I get Marcus, cool, collected, hot Marcus.