Teacher's Pet

"Sorry. I've just been out of it lately. I came here to get away. If I wanted to hole up in my room watching bad movies, I should have stayed in LA."

"It's not too late. You still have the rest of the summer."

"Yeah. Tomorrow, I might even leave the suite without you having to come up and make me."

"We were just worried you might have died up there. That would be terrible for our numbers," I joked, scared suddenly that was too dark. He laughed.

"Another thing I wouldn't have had to leave LA to do," he sighed. "Will hanging out here make me as chipper as you?"

"You're on a paradise island at a world-class resort. What else would you need?" I asked, ribbing him a little. I wanted to get another laugh out of him.

"I know. I'm so ungrateful," he said dramatically. Who was this guy, and where had he been all this time? Maybe he was having a better time than I thought he had been, after all. "Thanks for the pamphlets, by the way. You're right. I need to get out more."

"Yeah. The beach is a lot more fun during the day," I said. He smiled and looked out over the water.

A comfortable silence fell between us. I was glad it seemed all he needed was someone to talk to. I still didn't really know what had been eating at him, but at least he was loosening up. I glanced over at him. He seemed a little fidgety, like he wasn't comfortable. We hadn't been sitting that long, but there was a chance he wanted to maybe get off the sand.

"Hey, is everything okay?" I asked him.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Can I get you anything? I can run up to the bar if you want a water or anythin

g like that."

"I'm just a little under the weather. I should be fine in the morning," he said.

Under the weather? Well, that could mean anything. Was there a bug going around? Was he coming down with something? Was it a stomach thing? Like something he had eaten didn't agree with him? I didn't want to try call him on anything, but the days and days of isolation, then him finally coming outside and still not being able to sit and enjoy the luau seemed suspect.

I had a feeling he wasn't telling me the whole truth. Something was bothering him. I thought about mentioning it, but he had finally agreed to come out of his room and do something. It was something. I couldn't knock him for trying. Whatever it was, it was probably bad, but I didn't want to pry.

"You can call the front desk if it gets worse," I said instead. "We can contact a doctor if you're ill."

"Thanks," he said, smiling at me. I smiled back. What was going on with him? All the stuff with his band was public knowledge. His leaving had been big news. It was none of my business, but I'd seen the turnaround he’d had just after the conversation we had just had. If he talked about it, whatever it was, he'd most likely feel better.

"Hey, what's that?" he asked suddenly.

"What?"

"On your neck. What happened?"

I clammed up. I never really thought about my scar. It had faded quite a bit since the actual wound, and a lot of the time, people weren't brazen enough to ask questions that personal. When they did ask me, I had a story ready, one that made sense and which threw them off my scent. I just hadn't been expecting Nate to say anything, especially since we had only just had a real conversation.

"Oh, this," I said, rubbing the mark a few inches below my jaw. "Surfing accident. Happened years ago."

"Looks like it must have hurt."

"It looks worse than it was," I said, trying to pass it off. I had told the lie enough times that it came naturally to me. I wasn't proud of that, but I told it out of necessity. Only Makani knew the real reason I had that scar on my neck.

When I tried to tell actual surfers that that was how I had gotten it, they had a lot more questions since they knew the ways you could get hurt surfing. It would have had to be a pretty unique surfing accident if it left me with a scar on my neck that looked suspiciously like one I would have gotten from an edged blade. I was good at deflecting, but I was sure a lot of people didn’t actually believe me.

"Did you get back on your board after that?" he asked.

"If I didn't, how would I have ever become a good enough surfer to make sure I never had another accident again?" I asked, looking over at him. He was leaning back on his arms. I could see his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths and his eyes were shut. Sweat had broken out over his forehead. The muscle in his jaw was working like he was grinding his teeth.

"Nate, are you feeling all right?" I asked, concerned. Something was definitely not right.

"I'm gonna turn in," he said, getting up slowly, like his body hurt. I got to my feet. "Great party, by the way. I mean it. Thanks for inviting me."