Page 14 of The Other Side of Paradise (Story of Paradise #2)

Stella

Allison was kinda fun once she wasn’t so shy. I wondered if she was just awkward talking to guests outside of work, and she was just finally shifting to see me as a person instead of a customer. I’d have to ask Ryan if she’d been similarly awkward with her or if it was something about me.

Either way, I was just glad to hang out with a girl who felt like hanging out with a girl. Ryan had always patronized me and treated me like I was a silly kid any time I tried to talk about boys, dating, sex, whatever—she was too good for all of that.

Well, I guess I wasn’t talking about boys so much with Allison. But it wasn’t any different to talk about girls instead. Besides, less competition for whatever sexy guys I might have bumped into on the beach.

What was most important was just that I didn’t have to go feeling like the only one who wanted to have fun and do girl stuff.

And if Allison could give me that, then I’d gladly spend this whole vacation with her, especially now that I’d gone on a bridge-burning spree yelling at Grandma and turning down an invite from half my family.

I felt good about it, honestly—like I’d stuck it to the man and finally done my own thing—and between that and making friends with Allison, I had a little bounce in my step, putting some music on in the hotel room while I got dressed and touched up my hair and makeup, singing along to the best songs with a tube of mascara for a microphone.

And then my spirits, sailing high like a bird, whacked into the glass and fell twitching to the ground when a knock on my door wasn’t Allison but instead my dad’s face looking hard-edged at me when I opened it.

“Oh. Hey,” I said, pulling the door back a little bit—defensively holding it half-shut.

“Can I come in?” he said, not even any preamble.

“I thought you were going to brunch.”

“We’re going after the matinee instead. Since our morning got a little rearranged…”

I couldn’t help myself. I’d never been able to keep my stupid mouth shut. “Why did it need to rearrange, again? Me and Ryan not going doesn’t need to change the whole schedule.”

He sighed. “I don’t want to have this conversation out in the open.”

“I was just heading out to meet someone.”

“It’ll be quick.” He pushed on the door, and I fumbled with surprise, losing my grip on the door as he swung it open and stepped past me. I turned with a knot in my throat to where he walked past me, looking around and making a face at the room. “You think it looks like this at a trailer park?”

“Oh my god, Dad, I was just getting ready to go out. I was rummaging through my clothes and stuff, it makes a mess. I didn’t realize I’d have company.”

He shut my suitcase, and I bristled. When he went to adjust my unmade bed, I stomped forward and snatched it from his hand.

“Don’t touch my bed.”

He relented, hands up letting go, but the look on his face said he wasn’t done. “What do we have to do to get you to clean up after yourself? Do we need to pay you?”

Anger and embarrassment prickled together in a hot cocktail in my face, making my throat feel tight, and I folded my arms. “What do you want? ”

He sighed again, sitting down on the chair in the corner, a hand to his forehead. “Look, Stella, we gotta have a talk. It’s not okay for you to talk to your mother the way you did. Or your grandmother.”

I felt my face burn, and I crossed my arms tighter, stepping back. “I didn’t say anything to Mom other than that I wasn’t going. And Grandma was being ridiculous with poor Allison, who didn’t do anything.”

“Look…” He sighed again, harder this time, gesturing vaguely, searching for words.

Like dealing with me was such an ordeal he didn’t even know where to start.

“Your mother put a lot of work into this. Your mother’s done a lot, for all three of you, and I don’t think you understand that. And frankly, it’s kind of ungrateful.”

“Because she organized a vacation, I’m obligated to go along with everything?”

He took a second looking at me like I’d lost my mind, and he said, “Yeah. More or less. It’s kinda the bare damn minimum to pay attention to what’s happening and not screw up the whole damn—” he started, but I spoke over him, saying,

“Ryan’s your daughter, and you don’t care what happens to her or how she’s feeling, and I’m the bad guy because I do?”

“Ryan acting out isn’t a reason for you to start doing it, too. You—”

“ Acting out? Like she’s a little kid?” I threw my hands up—my heart was going a mile a minute, and I didn’t know what I was saying anymore, my brain shutting off and my mouth going on without me.

“She doesn’t want to go out with the man who cheated on her!

She’s not acting out, you all are the ones being immature because you just—stick your heads in the sand and ignore it whenever there’s conflict—”

“Stella,” he started, standing up, his face reddening, and I didn’t even place what I was doing—I picked up the TV remote and threw it at the bed as hard as I could, hitting the duvet and bouncing off, landing on the floor and the battery cover popping off.

Dad flinched, a wary look in his eyes, and I felt so—so—so molten in this hot, thick feeling in my throat that I couldn’t even think about anything.

Just moved on instinct—kicked open the suitcase Dad had closed, and when he flinched, I looked at him like I dared him to complain, and after a second, I grabbed the duvet and ripped it off the bed, making a mess on the floor.

“Stella, calm down,” he said, his voice off-balance now, and I snorted.

“You treat me like an object. Like a nice car to show off in your driveway, not a human being. Me and Ryan both. I’m sick of it. I’ve never… never once felt like you respect me as a human being.”

“Respect?” he said, his voice rising. “You want to talk about respect? Does this look like you respect me?”

“No,” I choked, clenching my fists. “No, it doesn’t.

Because I don’t. Why would I? You don’t have anything I respect.

Just money and status. I’m going, ” I said, voice thick with tears I was not going to cry, and I spun on my heel, marching out the door, slamming it shut behind me, and I ran away—I didn’t even know where, didn’t care where, just as long as it wasn’t here.

∞∞∞

I didn’t really process what had happened until I’d gotten a text from Allison, and I sat up in the booth seat in the corner of the café, swiping open her message. I’d lost track of time after I’d stormed here… Allison had probably been waiting for me. Shit, I was the worst.

Hey there, I’m at the spot by the pool whenever you’re ready, but no rush!

Two minutes after I was supposed to meet her.

I’d walked here, too, so it would have taken me a good ten minutes to go find her.

I groaned, tapping my nails on the screen while I tried to work out how to reply.

Finally, I ended up bypassing what little filter I had and sent, Hey, so, I totally forgot about this whole thing, I had a fight with my dad and stormed out to the café down the street from the resort so I could mope into a latte and I lost track of time.

It took Allison a second to start typing, and I interrupted her once she did, with, I can be back there in like ten minutes or you can just come here, this is closer to the shop I was going to take you to anyway.

Allison responded with a cadence like she hadn’t changed her reply after getting mine. The café down the street, as in, Oakwood?

God, I didn’t know. I barely remembered even coming into this place. I felt like an idiot checking the name of the place I was in on Maps, but Oakwood it was. That’s the one.

Hang tight, I’ll meet you there.

Yeah, I could do that… I needed another minute to gather myself. Evidenced by the fact that I left Allison on read for five minutes before I realized I could reply to her, and I sent back, Take your time, I’ll just be moping like a sad sack.

It was later—I wasn’t really a good judge of how much later—when the doorbell jingled, and I looked up at where Allison came into the café dressed in a graphic tee and jeans again, her hair let down, but it wasn’t the clothes that caught my eyes so much as the bouquet of flowers, a small thing tied up with a red ribbon.

She scanned the room and looked like she’d gotten a punch to the gut when she saw me—I guess I must have really looked rough—before she started towards me, sliding into the seat across from me.

“Hey,” she said, setting the flowers down between us. “Um, this is—it’s something we have on standby for guests who need a little pick-me-up, and you… sounded like you could use a pick-me-up. Sorry if it’s weird.”

She got me flowers. To help me feel better. I stared at her, and I stared at the flowers, and I looked back up at her, and I laughed. “Are you supposed to tell the guests you’re giving it to here, this is standard company policy? ”

“Uh—maybe—no.” She reddened, sitting up taller. “Sorry. I’m not very good at this.”

I laughed, sliding the bouquet across the table towards me. “I’m just teasing,” I said, feeling myself soften like a knot was untied in my chest. “Thanks, Allison. That’s really sweet of you.”

“Ah.” She looked away, hunching her shoulders. “Not really. As established, standard company policy. ”

I laughed, coming out more genuine, relaxed—more easily this time, and I leaned across the table and squeezed her shoulder.

She flinched at the touch, and I made a note for next time that I guess she was touch-averse, but she didn’t complain this time, just putting her hand on the spot when I took my hand away.

“Well, thank you for the good customer service. Give me one second, I’m going to go ask for a glass for these. Do you want me to order something?”

She blinked. “You?”

I paused halfway through standing up, and I broke out into a grin. “Damn, flirtatious, huh?”