Chapter Twenty
How dirty indeed, I say to myself and yet again taste sand in my mouth. Sand is in places I didn’t know sand could access, yet I am having the time of my life watching my soon-to-be husband (I know, I caved), drive like a madman down sandy dunes.
He looks like a little boy who just discovered a sandbox for the first time. I’ll admit this is fun, minus the sand in every crevice of my body. I get back in my dune buggy and drive as fast as I can in his direction. He laughs as he aims his buggy toward mine then veers off at the last second. Note to self, when you're hot and sweaty, don’t go to the sand dunes. Preston doesn’t even look of American descent anymore.
Luckily, we packed food and water and decided to lay down on a blanket for a short picnic. I yawned loudly before taking a long swig of the cool liquid. “We should head back,” I say, only my voice sounds slightly cracked from the dry air.
“Probably,” he says smiling, only he doesn’t seem present. Something must be bothering him.
“Are you okay?” I ask, trying to play the sweet, understanding girlfriend role. I even lean over and start caressing his hand.
He pulls it back instantly and looks down. “I have to tell you something.”
I’m frozen. I can’t breathe; I can’t move. Something’s wrong. My eyes widen as I wait for him to spill it all. Maybe this is a big joke. Maybe he is getting his revenge, maybe—
“—I’ve always wanted to kiss Princess Leah.”
Not what I was expecting. I stare at him and am sorely tempted to punch him in the face, but he’s acting serious, so I feel like I need to somehow tell him it’s okay to have weird fantasies.
“Um, okay, that’s, well, good for you,” I say, patting his hand and looking away. Everything in me screams Laugh. Laugh at him. But I can’t do it, not again. It would feel like the choir concert, only this time it would really hurt him.
“Sometimes...”
Oh no. He’s talking again.
“Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to be Luke Skywalker, to have a light saber that glows, you know?”
Oh my gosh, he has tears in his eyes. He’s getting teary-eyed over Star Wars. I knew this was too good to be true. He’s still a nerd. Only this time, I love him. God, if you’re listening, you're cruel. This is a mean joke. I may deserve it, but I don’t like it.
He’s now full on sobbing. Or at least it looks like it, because his head is moving and his hands are covering his face.
“There, there,” I whisper as I pat his back with the only ounce of sympathy I can muster. “It’ll be okay.”
“No, it won’t!” He yells through sobs. “I won’t ever get a chance to be Luke Skywalker, and I didn’t even know my father!” He’s full on yelling. “Curse you, George Lucas!” His fist to the sky.
My eyes are so wide right now that I swear people can see the whites of them from the mainland. My mouth is also hanging open in a frightfully unattractive way, and I’m stunned into silence. Just as I was about to say, “You’re crazy,” he turns to me.
“That...” he says with his voice back to normal, “was for turning me down for prom.” He puts his hands behind his head and leans back onto the blanket. “Revenge is sooooo sweet.”
I’m staggered to mere speechlessness. I can’t say anything. Nothing could make this moment of his revenge any sweeter, I already fell for it. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I thought he was being serious, that he had snapped. No, instead he was playing me for an absolute fool. And to that there's only one way to respond.
I take out my water bottle and pour it over his head before making a run for it back to my buggy. I feel him hot on my heels and leap towards the buggy before he tackles me into the sand.
“I can’t believe you actually fell for that,” he said, breathless.
I struggle to get free from his grasp, then give up, feeling the sand is, yet again, in places it shouldn’t be. “How was I supposed to know?” I yell. “Get off of me!” I'm laughing, but it's an angry I’m-going-to-get-you-back laugh.
“I hate that you honestly think I’m that obsessed with Star Wars.” He looks absolutely astonished at my behavior.
I stick my tongue out and grimace as his sandy hands grasp it. “I’m not letting go unless you make me a promise.”
I shake my head no, but whimper as his grip tightens.
“Promise you’ll say yes.”
My eyes are now watering, so what choice do I have? I nod my head yes and bite him when he releases my hand.
Luckily, down where we had parked our rental car, there were showers, so we were able to get at least a pound of sand out of our clothes and other unmentionable places.
I was the first back to the car and squashed down into the seat. Preston soon followed but decided against full clothing. His abs were in full view of my face, making me suddenly feel light headed in the heat.
“Shouldn’t you put on clothes or something?” My shaky voice betrays me yet again as he notices the emotion that runs thick in my vocal strain. I feel defenseless against his physical beauty. It’s not rational, but then again, nobody’s ever tagged me as being a rational person.
He puts on his aviator sunglasses, making my heart leap that much more and smiles. “I want to get a good tan.”
Never mind that we aren’t in a convertible. He just likes making people suffer. It’s working, I say to myself as I buckle my seatbelt.