Page 47 of The Other Side of Paradise (Story of Paradise #2)

Stella

Allison was right with the recommendation for the spot.

It was a beautiful place with cozy wood stylings and a massive outdoor fireplace on the terrace where Ryan was already there together with Oscar and Mom, a stunning spot high up in the rocks overlooking the colorful triangles of sailboats on the ocean.

The best part, though, was that it took about two minutes to get here from where I’d spent the whole day with Allison on the beach, moving between the water, the sand, and the bar.

Even so, it was bittersweet, knowing the next time I was going to leave her would be the last—going back to her place tonight, and then having to go pack up my things from the resort and leave.

Ugh.

“You guys didn’t tell me you were all going to show up early,” I said, making my way over to everyone’s table and sitting between Ryan and Mom. “So what’s going on, what did I miss?”

Ryan gave me a knowing smile. “Done frolicking and flirting on the beach?”

I flushed. Oh, god, had she seen us? Or did I just look too happy? I put on a scowl. “Frolicking and—what?” I said, trying to sound natural. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just hanging out. Ugh—I haven’t met any boys here. I’m so disappointed.”

I was as obvious as Allison. Oscar didn’t get it. “Things didn’t pan out with Jacob, then, huh?”

“Jacob?” It took me a second to place it. That was embarrassing. I shook my head. “Ugh… he’s a dick. Pass.”

He bought it. How did he pick up on Ryan and Brooklyn but I didn’t? Ryan smiled brightly at me. “Right,” she said. “Well, it’s a good thing you and Allison have been good friends.”

“Oh, um… yeah.” I cleared my throat a little, sitting up taller.

I could feel myself prickling a little… I wondered if that meant anything.

The thought of sharing something like that with Ryan, talking about these little dates I’d been having with Allison…

I dunno. I didn’t hate it. “Yeah, it’s been fun hanging out with her and stuff,” I said. “So, what were we talking about?”

Mom looked at me with a soft smile, something loaded in her eyes. She looked like a different person, a little bit—older, tired, but kind of… softer, somehow. She folded her hands on the table. “We were just talking about your sister, sweetheart,” she said, and I scowled.

“Well, yeah, I know that. Were you apologizing for being weird?”

Mom took a second weighing it over, the conflict visible on her face, before she said, “I guess so.”

Ryan put on a thin smile, clearly a little shaken, and she said, “We were talking about everyone taking Shane’s side… Mom said she was sorry for trying to not take sides and ending up hurting me in the process.”

Huh. I guess that was progress. But Ryan was probably going to just take that and accept it as enough. I folded my arms on the table. “So, did we get into the whole thing with Ryan’s career,” I said, “or are we slow-walking the apologies?”

Just as I’d expected, Ryan put her hands up defensively. “Stella, it’s… it’s fine. I know these things are complicated—”

I was about to argue, but of all people, Mom was the one who cut in.

“No, I—I owe you an apology for that too,” she said, and Ryan looked over at her with a flicker of surprise, of vulnerability, as Mom spoke thickly.

“I’ve had an image in my head of what you were supposed to be like.

I’m not… I’m not very good at this. I’ve never raised children before,” she laughed, voice wavering, clearly struggling to say it but saying it anyway.

“But all I want is that you know I love you. I love all of you, and I want to hear what you actually need.”

Well, I guess hell had frozen over. Ryan took a long, shaky breath, tears in the corners of her eyes, and she said thinly, “Mom… thank you.”

Hell had not frozen over, because Oscar visibly struggled under the emotional vulnerability. “What I actually need is dinner,” he said, “and I think our waiter is eyeing us wondering if it’s safe to come ask us for our orders.”

I shoved his shoulder. “Oh my god, Oscar, let someone have an emotional moment without running away hissing.”

But he was right about the waiter, who drifted closer to the table with a careful smile, trying not to interrupt. He introduced himself and offered to take our orders while everybody else fumbled with their menus, panicking last-minute, and I glanced down at my menu.

“Hi, can I do the… blackened grouper,” I said, picking out the first thing that sounded nice. I hated overthinking it anyway. Plus, it gave me the opportunity to pick on somebody by asking them to go next. “Ryan, how about you?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll do the fish and chips, thanks.”

Ugh, she was taking after me. I should have picked on Oscar.

∞∞∞

The sun was low enough on the horizon once we finished the meal and went to the open seating by the bar, Mom and Oscar sitting at the bar while Ryan dropped onto the loveseat next to me, that the figures on the beach below us were all silhouetted in vibrant gold, them and the surfers on the water and then the boats off in the distance past them.

Ryan raised her glass to mine as she settled into the seat.

“Here’s to vacation,” she said. I met her glass with mine.

“Here’s to vacation.” I looked past her, over to where Mom carried herself differently, like…

like a human being, honestly. Like she’d given up trying to be better than us and was just a part of the family.

It was a good look. “I didn’t think Mom would come around so readily,” I said, and Ryan laughed dryly.

“Ah… Brooklyn talked to her.”

I gave her a look. “Your girlfriend got Mom to sort herself out?”

She didn’t look at me. “She’s not my girlfriend,” she said. I snorted.

“Could be. She’s really into you.”

“Stella, don’t,” she sighed, a hand to her forehead. “I’m really into her, too. But I talked it over with her. Neither of us is willing to uproot our lives for this. So… it can’t work. It’s painful. I’d rather not dwell on it.”

God, this sucked. I’d hoped, somehow, maybe, this could be a happy ending for one of us. “Ugh… I thought maybe I had a chance of actually liking your girlfriend. That would have been cool.”

She looked away, watching the waves roll below us, before she shrugged and said quietly, “Maybe you’ll like my future girlfriend.”

And nowhere did a potential boyfriend come into the picture. I snorted, elbowing her. “Now who’s erasing your bisexuality?” I said, and she laughed awkwardly.

“Oh, or… whatever.”

“What, are you a lesbian after all, or do you just have a hard time picturing anything other than Brooklyn at this point?”

She sighed. “Yeah, the latter,” she mumbled.

“Point taken.” I leaned back, kicking a leg up over the other, and I took the second to sip my drink—a strawberry daiquiri, my favorite drink now.

Looking out over the distance, back in the direction of where Allison’s house was out there, along that coast, wondering what she was doing…

wondering if she was watching those same waves, thinking of me like I was of her.

Ryan spoke casually. “So, you tried it out with Allison?”

I spat my drink into the glass, whirling on her, my face hot. “BB told you?” I said, and she smiled serenely.

“She didn’t. I was just guessing. But I’m… taking that as confirmation.”

“Ugh… I guess I kind of figured she’d tell you,” I muttered, going back to my drink, shoulders hunched. “She did tell me some things she said you’d kill her for saying, so I assumed she wasn’t exactly one for secrets.”

She went a little green. “And… what, pray tell, are those things?”

I smiled at her. “I asked her how enthusiastic you were for your first time.”

“Did you, now.” She didn’t look at me.

“She said very.”

“Mm.” She put down her drink, hands folded, her voice measured as she said, “Well, enthusiastic consent is important.”

I poked at my drink, stirring idly with my straw. “It’s just to try it out on vacation,” I said, apropos of nothing, and she raised her eyebrows at me.

“Trying out what, romance or sex?”

“Both.”

“Huh.” She studied me a second longer before she said, “So… what’s the answer?”

I hugged myself, my thoughts everywhere at once, and yet at the same time, all in one spot.

Every moment together with Allison—casual things like clothes shopping and beach days to the moments like yesterday, knowing I could say anything and she’d hear me.

Feeling safe, in a way I was never accustomed to.

The way my whole life had turned upside-down with her around, and how I was reeling knowing it was over tomorrow, wondering what—if we’d done this much with just a few days, what could happen if we had just one more day together.

How did I put something like that into words?

I let out a long breath, and I said, “I come way harder with a girl.”

“Okay—well.” She cleared her throat. “Congratulations on that.”

I looked over at her. “Is that just a me thing?” I said, and she put her hands up.

“No—” She turned away, her cheeks pink. I guess I knew what she was thinking about. I was happy for her. “No, it’s not. Not like it’s some… universal law… but it’s something a lot of girls say.”

I settled back into the seat. Talking about sex was easier.

“I’ve only touched her a little bit, but she seemed like she really liked it,” I said.

“It’s kind of… I don’t know. It feels like things are so stiff with a guy.

Like, he could be really sexy, but it’s kind of boring how he’s all… macho and acts like it’s whatever.”

“Uh-huh…”

“The last guy I was with didn’t make any sound in bed,” I said. “It was so awkward. I’d just be down there wondering if any of it was working…”

She snorted. “Shane was pretty quiet too,” she said. “He’d make a few stock comments, but that was it.”

Wait, seriously? I’d thought it was just a me thing. “So it’s a thing guys do?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t slept with them all,” she said, hands up, and I laughed.