Page 17
Story: Snapshot
He rubs his palms nervously against his jeans. “Are you leaving now?”
Turning my head slowly, I gawk as I meet his eyes. I try to scoff, but what comes out is an incredulous cackle. “Wait a minute, you’re going to turn me downandboot me out ofyour bedroom wearing nothing but a thin T-shirt? I didn’t kick your cat, man. All I did was try to kiss you. I meant that to be flattering, at least.”
He laughs in relief. “Oh shit, no. I’m not kicking you out. I just thought you’d be pissed at me. You’re not about to storm out and cancel all the scuba stuff?”
I draw in a small breath, then release it with gusto. “No. If I cancel the scuba stuff, it’s because I will forever be deathly afraid of sharks.”
He smirks at me. “Oh, come on, Trouble. I swear on my life I won’t let a shark eat you.”
“Promise?”
He nods once. “Promise.”
“Then, we’re cool, Dex.” I make a fist with my free hand and hold it out to him. “Friends?”
He taps his knuckles to mine, his charming grin sweet andrelieved. “Friends.”
There’s a heavy ball of humiliation sinking deep into my gut. I can almost hear the thud as it settles into the pit of my stomach like a lead cannonball hitting the ocean floor. Hope squashed. Feelings unreturned. Chemistry snuffed right out. But it’s okay. I cope how I always cope.
If I pretend like it’s not a big deal…
Eventually, it just won’t feel like such a big deal.
4
Dex
Present Day
Miami
Iforce myself to inhale for four seconds, then exhale for six. I don’t allow myself to breathe in short heaves. My panic attacks always start with hyperventilating. Once I lose my breath, I lose control.
I count the small marble tiles beneath my feet.Cool tile.Good idea. I step out of my black dress loafers and yank off my socks, pressing my bare feet against the cold floor. Glancing down, I roll my eyes when I see the brand name imprinted in gold scrawl on the heel of my shoe soles.Christian Louboutingracing us with his designer presence at my grandmother’s funeral.
I didn’t pick my outfit today. I never do when I’m back home. My clothes, shoes, and matching watch are always conveniently messengered over to wherever I’m getting dressed.
Believe it or not, some reporter or another will likely comment on my shoes. These are too fancy. Louboutin loafersretail for well over a grand. No doubt someone will accuse me of squandering away Grandma’s fortune on frivolous things before she’s even cold in her grave. Then again, had I shown up in Magnannis, they wouldn’t be fancy enough. The flip side of the coin is that I’m a disrespectful slob of an heir and just glad to be rid of Grandma so I can piss away her wealth.
Basically, damned if I do, damned if I don’t. And this is why when I’m home in Miami, amongst the judgmental social elitists, I let other people dress me.
Fuck, do I hate it here.
I hear Grandma’s voice in my head.Just breathe, baby. Your feet have to stay here, but your mind can go wherever you want. Where do you want to go, sweet boy?
My answer was always the same…The ocean.My other home. Far, far away from all the things I despise about being Dex Malcolm Hessler.
But I don’t want to think about the ocean right now. I’m still clouded with guilt. When Grandma died, I was on a liveaboard at Socorro Island in Mexico without any cell service. November is prime season for whale sharks. All I could focus on was my dive students getting their money’s worth out of their trip. The travel, equipment, and accommodations were so expensive, and I knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for most of my students. They waited so long for a spotting. I gave myself a headache obsessing, trying to will it into existence.Just one whale shark.
We didn’t see a damn one.
When we got back to San Jose Del Cabo, I learned my grandma had died alone in her sleep.
She called me the night she passed and left a bizarre message that will live in my head for the rest of my life. Her words were slurred, and she spoke like a broken record. Over and over, she kept telling me that there’s a reason she did what she did. That she trusts me, and I need to make the choice with my heart, notmy head. Grandma kept saying not to make the mistake she did, because if she could just go back, she would’ve chosen daisies.
But what choice? And what does she mean by choosing daisies?
I have so many questions, and there’s still a lot to sort out with the lawyers.
Turning my head slowly, I gawk as I meet his eyes. I try to scoff, but what comes out is an incredulous cackle. “Wait a minute, you’re going to turn me downandboot me out ofyour bedroom wearing nothing but a thin T-shirt? I didn’t kick your cat, man. All I did was try to kiss you. I meant that to be flattering, at least.”
He laughs in relief. “Oh shit, no. I’m not kicking you out. I just thought you’d be pissed at me. You’re not about to storm out and cancel all the scuba stuff?”
I draw in a small breath, then release it with gusto. “No. If I cancel the scuba stuff, it’s because I will forever be deathly afraid of sharks.”
He smirks at me. “Oh, come on, Trouble. I swear on my life I won’t let a shark eat you.”
“Promise?”
He nods once. “Promise.”
“Then, we’re cool, Dex.” I make a fist with my free hand and hold it out to him. “Friends?”
He taps his knuckles to mine, his charming grin sweet andrelieved. “Friends.”
There’s a heavy ball of humiliation sinking deep into my gut. I can almost hear the thud as it settles into the pit of my stomach like a lead cannonball hitting the ocean floor. Hope squashed. Feelings unreturned. Chemistry snuffed right out. But it’s okay. I cope how I always cope.
If I pretend like it’s not a big deal…
Eventually, it just won’t feel like such a big deal.
4
Dex
Present Day
Miami
Iforce myself to inhale for four seconds, then exhale for six. I don’t allow myself to breathe in short heaves. My panic attacks always start with hyperventilating. Once I lose my breath, I lose control.
I count the small marble tiles beneath my feet.Cool tile.Good idea. I step out of my black dress loafers and yank off my socks, pressing my bare feet against the cold floor. Glancing down, I roll my eyes when I see the brand name imprinted in gold scrawl on the heel of my shoe soles.Christian Louboutingracing us with his designer presence at my grandmother’s funeral.
I didn’t pick my outfit today. I never do when I’m back home. My clothes, shoes, and matching watch are always conveniently messengered over to wherever I’m getting dressed.
Believe it or not, some reporter or another will likely comment on my shoes. These are too fancy. Louboutin loafersretail for well over a grand. No doubt someone will accuse me of squandering away Grandma’s fortune on frivolous things before she’s even cold in her grave. Then again, had I shown up in Magnannis, they wouldn’t be fancy enough. The flip side of the coin is that I’m a disrespectful slob of an heir and just glad to be rid of Grandma so I can piss away her wealth.
Basically, damned if I do, damned if I don’t. And this is why when I’m home in Miami, amongst the judgmental social elitists, I let other people dress me.
Fuck, do I hate it here.
I hear Grandma’s voice in my head.Just breathe, baby. Your feet have to stay here, but your mind can go wherever you want. Where do you want to go, sweet boy?
My answer was always the same…The ocean.My other home. Far, far away from all the things I despise about being Dex Malcolm Hessler.
But I don’t want to think about the ocean right now. I’m still clouded with guilt. When Grandma died, I was on a liveaboard at Socorro Island in Mexico without any cell service. November is prime season for whale sharks. All I could focus on was my dive students getting their money’s worth out of their trip. The travel, equipment, and accommodations were so expensive, and I knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for most of my students. They waited so long for a spotting. I gave myself a headache obsessing, trying to will it into existence.Just one whale shark.
We didn’t see a damn one.
When we got back to San Jose Del Cabo, I learned my grandma had died alone in her sleep.
She called me the night she passed and left a bizarre message that will live in my head for the rest of my life. Her words were slurred, and she spoke like a broken record. Over and over, she kept telling me that there’s a reason she did what she did. That she trusts me, and I need to make the choice with my heart, notmy head. Grandma kept saying not to make the mistake she did, because if she could just go back, she would’ve chosen daisies.
But what choice? And what does she mean by choosing daisies?
I have so many questions, and there’s still a lot to sort out with the lawyers.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130