Before I Ever Met You

And yet here is Logan telling me everything I’ve always craved to hear and I’m not even sure he knows what he’s saying. Juliet was his wife and in some ways, maybe every way, he’s breaking her confidence by telling me these things.

Or maybe it’s the kind of things I should have always known. Maybe the pedestal I put her on was always a little too high.

Logan is gone longer than I anticipated. With my phone completely destroyed by the water I have no way of knowing how much time has passed. The clouds are still coming from behind us, obscuring the sun, leaving a grey and shadow-less void over the jungle. I can hear the faint chatter of the other hikers far in the distance, a familiar sound that reminds me that I’m not completely alone out here. If things get weird between Logan and I, I can always head down to their camp and join them.

And aside from the sounds of the violent surf and the steady roar of the stream, I can hear birds singing, along with the occasional crow of a rooster. Even in the heart of the jungle, the damn chickens are everywhere.

I also hear what sounds like a mew. I turn my head to see a cat poke it’s face out of a bush. It’s grey and white, scrawny but not starving, with large dark eyes.

“Hey,” I cry out softly, sticking out my hand and making the motion for him to come forward. “Come say hi.”

The cat doesn’t move, just eyes me curiously. Quickly and quietly, trying not to scare it, I lean over and pick up the packet of beef jerky and fish out a piece, holding it out.

The cat starts to approach then jumps and scurries back into the bushes.

Seconds later, Logan appears, branches in his arms. He eyes where the cat disappeared and looks at me, the lines in his forehead deepening. “And I thought you weren’t a cat person.”

Ah, the other thing discussed at Christmas.

“Ha ha,” I tell him. “The poor thing is all the way out here by itself.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about the cat,” Logan says, stooping down to put the branches by the fire. “There are a bunch of feral ones out here. And they aren’t suffering. A forest full of chickens like this? It’s fucking KFC.”

“Kauai Fried Chicken?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that. Here, we’ll let the fire dry these branches out before we use them later.” He sits down beside me and nudges me in the shoulder. “And since you were so eager to give the cat our rations, how about you share some with me? Or is it reserved for animals only?”

I look him over, pretending to inspect him. “That wouldn’t be far off,” I say warily. “You seem more like a bear than anything else.”

“A bear?”

“Something large, dark, and hairy, anyway.”

“Is that so?”

I shrug and hand him the packet. “But I can share all the same.”

He takes it from me and for one beautiful, terrible second, our fingers brush against each other. It’s like a lightning rod placed straight to my heart. But if the touch meant anything to him, he doesn’t show it. Like usual, it’s all in my head.

Forget your head, I remind myself, it’s your whole damn body.

“Is that your nickname for me?” he asks, opening the packet and tearing into a piece. “The bear?”

“Nah,” I tell him. “I actually don’t have a nickname for you. Except habut, but every time I hear it, I think of booty.”

“If it’s my booty, I don’t see the problem.”

“This is the second time today you’ve referenced your ass.”

“It’s a good one, why ignore it?”

I pause, smiling to myself. “You’re more like…Gruff.”

“Gruff?”

“Mr. Gruff.”

He laughs. “That’s a name of a dog. Somewhere in the world, there is a dog called Mr. Gruff.”

“How about Grumps?”

“Not sure if that’s much better, Freckles.”

“Sorry, you don’t get to choose,” I tell him, taking the beef jerky back. “Taste of your own medicine.”

“I guess it’s a good reminder that I have a reputation to uphold.”

But Logan doesn’t lapse back into the gruff grump I’ve known him as. Instead, our conversation continues to flow with a strange kind of ease. We talk about the island and how Logan’s changed since moving here. We talk about his brother and mother back in Australia, how he’d love to go visit. We talk about his childhood, how he grew up fatherless (his father was a deadbeat) and how I grew up essentially parentless, even though they were still there physically. My nannies raised me better than my parents did, even though there was always a revolving door of them and I never got to know one nanny longer than a year.

Soon night has fallen. The fire is still going, though it’s dwindling down into dark coals and glowing embers. The rain has stopped and we’re both fully dry now, the heat and the shelter raising our body temperature back up to a normal level. Though the roar of the stream has died down, it’s a steady reminder of why we are here. No matter what, there is no escape.

Our food is almost all eaten—the apple is saved for breakfast tomorrow—and it’s time to worry about how we’re going to sleep. Though the rain has stopped for now, odds are it will come back (it’s Kauai after all) and there’s barely enough room for one person to stretch out under the shelter.

Logan nods at me. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you lie down? There’s enough room between the wall and the fire.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll sit here.”

“And sleep?”

“If I can. Keep watch in case that cat comes back. I didn’t trust his face.”

I watch him for a few moments until he gestures at the earth again. Finally, I lie down, my back to the wall, my face to the fire, those last flames licking the logs. The ground is hard but it’s warm, and even though I’m a finicky sleeper, my head already feels heavy. To be honest, lying down like this feels like bliss.

But it doesn’t feel right. Logan should be lying down too, even though he has no choice but to lie with me. I wouldn’t mind. In fact, as I start to drift off, I can’t help but imagine that the warm, hard cliff at my back is him.





* * *



I wake up with what feels like a flashlight in my face. I blink, groggy, while everything comes back to me. My limbs are stiff and sore, and I feel exposed to the world.

I fully open my eyes to see the moon peeking out over a palm tree, full and bright and in my face, shadowed clouds passing beneath it. Crickets chirp over the sound of crashing waves.

Easing myself up, I look over for Logan. He’s sitting up, his back against the wall of the cliff, his head slumped to the side. Sleeping.

I have to go to the bathroom and don’t want to wake him up. I feel terrible that I’ve been lying down asleep and he’s had to sit up like that most of the night, but I’m still too afraid to insist he lie down with me. He’d turn me down, I know this, and I’d be asking for all the wrong reasons.

Slowly I get up and step over the fire, keeping my head low so I don’t hit the tarp. I don’t go far, only a few feet and off to the side to pee. When I’m done, I step back onto the path and run right into Logan.

“Argh!” I let out a cry while he grabs my arms.