Chapter 52: Chapter 52

I please Jeremy by eating the only food he finds for me in our apartment. Then I insist on stopping by the drug store before we go to the airport so I can pick up a sedative to help me sleep: on the flight, during the trip, and on the way back home. He waits with me for four hours in the airport until I manage to secure a seat for the trip to Hawaii. He says when I land there will be a text from Anna telling me the hotel they are staying at and my room number so I can catch a cab from the airport.

True to his word, I turn my phone on after the plane lands and a text pops up from Anna. I hailed a taxi from the airport and go straight to the hotel. It turns out that Anna chose a four-star hotel located right on the beach and this place cost a lot of money! This trip is supposed to help me get over Scott but ultimately it will force me to spend more time with him just to pay off the costs of the hotel, the irony of it all!

I check into my luxurious suite that comes equipped with a queen-sized bed, hot tub, and sauna. I pull the curtains open to see my room is facing the ocean. The moon is surrounded by zillions of stars and the temperature is in the high seventies at night. I can’t ask for more. It doesn’t matter though if I don’t have anyone to share it with. I open my luggage and find a clean pair of pyjamas. Against my will, I sadly shower Scott’s smell off me and there’s nothing in my bag that smells of him either. I never feel as pathetic as I do now. I curl up in bed and read the text from Jeremy.

JEREMY: I reiterated U’r side of the story & Anna’s right, he overreacted. He listened 2 everything I had 2 say, but he didn’t give me any reportable reaction 2U. I think he needs time.

ISABELLA: Did U tell him where I am?

JEREMY: Yes, he asked.

ISABELLA: Should I text him?

Jeremy: Let him do the 1st move.

ISABELLA: What if he doesn’t?

JEREMY: His loss, he doesn’t deserve U then.

ISABELLA: Thanks Jeremy

JEREMY: Try 2 have fun.

ISABELLA: It’s not going to happen. Wish Lara all the best!

JEREMY: Will do.

ISABELLA: thx.

JEREMY: What R friends 4?

I turned my phone off and cry myself to sleep. It’s over, really over, time to move on. The next morning Anna drops by my room and invites me out for breakfast by the pool with her and Andy. We catch up with each other over scrambled eggs and bacon. When Andy leaves the table to go to the bathroom, Anna tells me not to talk about Scott in front of him. She says men always stick together and it will get back to Scott. Anna says we have to come up with a conspiracy plan to help me get over him; we just need privacy from Andy. Luckily, forty-five minutes into our breakfast Andy comes down with a splitting headache and has to return to their room, Anna stays with me so he can get some rest.

Anna says, “I haven’t had to get over anyone since Johnson, and I was the dumper, not the dumpee! I think we should google it!”

“Google it? Are you serious?”

“Sure I’m serious; we’ll make a list of ten things you need to do to get over him, just like that movie we watched a few years back. You know the one where that gorgeous girl got dumped by the idiot because his parents forced him to move back to Pakistan? You read the suggestions out loud, and I’ll write them down, only the good ones, of course, it will be fun,” she encourages.

I google, ‘How to get over someone you love,’ and read two or three articles out loud. She writes feverishly while I read. I think the whole idea is stupid but I play along. Once Anna goes on a tangent, you don’t stop her. She tears the sheet from her book and hands it to me:

How to Get Over Scott:

1. Go on a trip

2. Don’t call him

3. Delete him — end all contact

4. Don’t plead to get back together with him

5. Have a rebound relationship

6. Don’t let him know you are hurting

7. Stay away from his friends

8. Don’t be lonely

9. Flirt with other guys

10. Meet new people

I study her list, “How do I do number three?” “What’s number three?”

“End all contact.”

“You’re going to have to stop seeing him.”

“What about the shows? That’s going to pay for this trip, my rent, food, stupid things like that.”

“Don’t get snippy,” Anna warns, “I’m trying to help.

Anna is tapping the pencil to her lips, “Let’s start with number one and work our way down.”

I smile at Anna, “Go on a trip, check!”

“See! You’re progressing,” she encourages. “What’s number two?”

“Don’t call him.”

She looks at me, still tapping the eraser against her lip, “Okay, whenever you have the urge to call him, call me instead, I’ll talk you down.”

“Are you sure? You’re on your honeymoon,” I remind her.

“You’re my best friend, of course, I’m sure. How often are your urges?” she asks.

“Um, every ten minutes or so,” I tease.

“You’re killing me she says jokingly. Okay, what’s next?” “Number three, delete him and end all contact.”

“Give me your phone,” Anna demands. “No,” I cradle it protectively in my hands. “Now,” she orders sternly even for her. She plays with my phone for a few minutes and then hands it back to me, I search. She removed him from my contacts, all my emails and text messages, even pictures. I look up at her horrified and all she does is shrug her shoulders and say, “It’s to help you. Okay, what’s number four?”

“Don’t plead to get back together.” “Have you?”

“Multiple times.” “Stop.”

“Easy for you to say.” “Number five?”

“Don’t let him know you’re hurting.”

“Easy enough if you’re not seeing him or calling him. Six?”

“Stay away from his friends.”

“That’s like number three, impossible,” I complain. “We have the same friends.”

“I know. What’s the next one?” “Don’t be lonely.”

“Are you?”

“Every second of every day ever since he stopped talking to me.”

“Even with me here?”

“Definitely, I’m a third wheel on a honeymoon, how much lonelier can anyone get?”

“Point taken. And the next one?”

“Flirt with other guys.”

“That one is easy, right?”

“Yup.”

“What’s the last one?”

“Meet new people.”

“You can do that in Uni.”

“True.”

“Keep the list, live by it. I have to get back to Andy. Remember, call me, not him!” She deserts me. I’m looking forward to the alone time so I can wallow in self-pity. I’m on my way to the gift shop when my phone alerts me of a text. I hit the main button and swipe the screen. The text is from someone who hasn’t been added to my contact list, it has to be Scott! I take a deep breath and tap the screen, waiting, fuck! It isn’t him. It’s a phone bill. My phone is becoming a source of torture for me; every time it alerts me and I check it my hopes are dashed.

I knew what I have to do, I see no other alternative: I sit down by the hotel gift shop and pay my bill, then I delete the data and throw the phone out. There! I open the door to the bin to see that it landed inside an empty take-out food container. Good, I feel better already.

The gift store is really nice. It's full of souvenirs I think Scott will love. I contemplate buying him one in case we get back together, just to show him I’m thinking about him. This nasty voice inside of me tells me I’m being ridiculous. I snatch lotion from the counter, my first reason for entering the store, and I force myself to go pay for it and then leave.

I change into my bikini and go to a nice pool I find on the other side of the hotel. This pool is larger than the other one we had breakfast at. Several families are gathered around on lawn chairs and two lifeguards are watching about fifteen kids in the shallow end. There is a bar connected with the pool so you didn’t have to get out of the water to get a drink. I reflect on when Scott and I first started practicing lifts back at the club’s pool. I lather myself in, creamy, gooey coconut sunscreen. Its color and texture reminded me of Scott Damn! Well, the sunscreen’s fragrance and the fact that it isn’t edible sets it apart.

If Scott was here, he would lay next to me holding my hand. I feel a tear fester in the corner of my eye. When is this going to get easier? I cover my eyes with dark sunglasses and concentrate on the feel of the sun’s heat against my skin. The background voices of the kids playing in the water relax me and I begin drifting off.