Page 47 of What Did I Miss?

They all meet in the garden at six sharp, and Cece gushes over everyone’s attempts to dress nicely.

Beau’s defined calves are on full display, thanks to his chino shorts.

His freshly shaved face gleams with a slick of balm, emitting a heavy scent that usually makes Makayla weak at the knees.

Tonight, however, it’s nauseating. Probably the dress’s fault.

Every second in it is a second too long. She doubles over and groans.

Cece rushes over to rub her back. ‘You don’t look so good. Are you feeling okay?’

Makayla can’t respond, but her insides do. They gurgle loudly, and it’s clear from everyone’s open-mouth stares that they heard it too.

‘Please don’t tell me you drank the water,’ Cece says.

‘Of course not. I’m not a dickhead.’ A stabbing pain grips Makayla’s waist.

‘Just asking.’ Cece puts her hands up in defence. ‘I did a lot of risky things like that when I visited in my early twenties. I even bought food from a street vendor once.’

‘Are we not supposed to eat from them?’ Makayla asks innocently.

After her swim, she’d ventured down the street alone to take in the sights.

Lo and behold, there was a cart on the corner selling skewers.

Charcoal meat glistened in the sun, and Makayla held up two fingers and ordered dua ayam .

The chicken was so juicy and tender. She stood among the locals, wearing a smug grin.

Unlike the tourists opting for a Western-style restaurant nearby, she was having an authentic experience. Who’s laughing now?

‘What will happen? Will I get a disease? Die?’ Makayla fans herself. ‘I’m definitely going to die. Death is imminent.’ She turns to Cece. ‘You’ll look after Piper, won’t you?’

‘Breathe, honey, breathe. It’s most likely Bali belly. Everyone gets it their first time here – or their second or third. Let’s hope it’s not as nasty as when I had it a couple of years back. Remember that, Jimmy?’ She giggles like it’s a fond memory. ‘If it’s that bad, you’ll miss the wedding.’

‘What?’ Makayla didn’t go through all the stress of boarding a plane only to spend the whole time in bed.

Barrelling over, she clutches her abdomen, which feels like it’s about to explode. She sprints to the bathroom, only just making it in time for today’s diet to exit her body violently.

The stone walls of the outdoor bathroom feel like they’re closing in, trapping a cocktail of sewage and satay from earlier.

Two curious geckos come out from hiding, probably to mock the na?ve tourist. An unexpected downpour drizzles into the garden, setting off a soundtrack of hissing steam.

Great! First the rain, then the mosquitos.

The bloodthirsty critters will inevitably come for Makayla and probably give her malaria.

A timid knock interrupts her pity party.

‘Go away! I mean it. Go on without me. Save yourselves.’ She sobs, sprawling across the cool tiles for momentary relief before the next wave of sickness hits.

Then it’s all head in the toilet, a wet face washer against her forehead.

Feverish mumbling. Lifted and carried. A bed that doesn’t feel like home.

Hot. Cold. Burning. Sweating and shivering.

People coming. People going. A Balinese woman with a serious frown.

Billowing curtains and a tickling breeze.

Sun up. Sun down. Purging everything and anything.

Swallowing pills. A dry mouth and scaly tongue.

Water. Glorious water. A furious hunger like never before.

Sitting in the cracks between reality and a dream.

And a familiar hand of support that’s been there the whole time.

A lamp glows in the darkness, providing enough light for Beau to read. A pile of holiday page-turners with ominous covers sits by his ankles.

‘Did I miss the wedding?’ Makayla croaks, too weak to sit up.

‘Hey there, sleeping beauty.’ Beau’s eyes smile.

‘The wedding’s tomorrow. Bali belly got you good.

The doc said if you weren’t well by the morning, I had to take you to the hospital.

’ He reaches across to her bedside table, which is littered with an impressive pharmacy stash. He drops a pill into her hand.

Makayla takes it without question. Whatever it is must be working, because she doesn’t have an urge to run to the bathroom.

‘I really hate that you’ve seen me in this state.’ She cringes, trying not to think about what he must have dealt with.

‘You’re welcome.’ He laughs.

‘Sorry. I mean, thank you. Does that mean you missed out on the water park and the Mexican restaurant that Cece said was a must-eat?’

‘No big deal.’

‘It is. When things got messy, you stayed.’

‘Someone helped me realise that’s the most important thing.

’ Beau slinks down into the bed so they can face each other.

She must look like crap, and yet his caring eyes don’t reflect that.

‘Why don’t you get some more rest? We’ll talk in the morning.

’ He kisses the tip of her nose. It’s cute and strategic; she definitely has vomit breath.

Curled into the side of his body, Makayla fights sleep, not wanting this moment to end. If tomorrow’s the wedding, that means the clock’s run out, and she has to make a decision. They both do.