This is it. This is the end.

My heart pounds as hard as my Dad's fists against Brodie's door, my stomach churning and making me feel physically sick as I come to terms with my current dilemma. All of my senses are in hyperdrive, except for my muscles which feel like complete jello, and suddenly can't seem to recall how to move anymore.

Brodie's eyes are locked on mine, going wide as his brain finally excepts our unfortunate reality.

"The karaoke machine, Brodie," I hiss out, reminding him of the five-foot dinosaur standing inconveniently in the middle of the room.

I'm quickly granted back the full ability to move again when more bangs ricochet through the room. "Dawson, this is your last warning. Open this door, dammit."

"Oh, mother fucker," he curses to himself, yanking the comforter from off the bed and slinging it over the stand, and covering the 2000s song lyrics still playing across its bright tv screen.

We work together, grunting and huffing as we push it as far back into a corner as we can manage and hoping that for the meantime it's enough to keep the machine hidden.

"Dawson, I'll kick this door down if I need to."

"G-give me a minute," he shakily hollers back, his eyes skimming my body up and down as his mind tries to piece together where in the hell he's going to hide me. A glint crosses his eyes and he whispers to me, "Shower. Get in the shower, okay?"

Keeping silent to make sure that the man on the other side of the door has no possible way of finding out that I'm here, I scurry into the bathroom. Brodie holds me steady as I carefully and quietly step into the bathtub, slinking down into its white porcelain as he slowly draws the curtain shut. Labored breaths leave me, causing my chest to rise and fall heavily but I do my best to calm my raging pulse down as my ears listen to the knob of the door click open.

"S-sorry sir, I was-"

"Where the hell did you vanish to today, Dawson?" My dad quickly cuts him off, anger clear in the tone of his voice.

He vanished away with me.

"I- um," Brodie stutters to answer back, and I'm just hoping and praying that he's able to come up with an answer, and come up with one quick. "Had a, uh- doctor's appointment."

"A doctor's appointment?" And I can just imagine my Dad's furrowed brows and squinted eyes because, by the inflection in his voice, I can tell he thinks my boyfriend is full of shit. Which, is absolutely true but he can't know that because if he knows then everything between Brodie and I will be over; the new, most exciting part of my life will be stolen away from me. "You didn't have an appointment in the calendar."

"I'm sorry, sir. I thought that I had submitted it."

"Sorry is not going to cut it. You realize that you're in the goddamn military now, right? We don't have room for forgetfulness and we certainly won't be tolerating you cutting out of shifts early without telling anybody else where the hell you're running off to. Do you understand that?"

"Aye, aye, sir."

The silence that follows those words is agonizing and my stomach churns with anticipation, wondering what the hell is going on beyond the other side of this shower curtain.

"You'll be coming in this weekend, and helping dock two finish up the maintenance on their jet. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Brodie mumbles back with acceptance, and I feel like complete shit knowing that I'm the reason he's having to go into work on his weekend off. "What time do you need me to report to the hanger?"

"You'll be there by 6:00 AM, and I better not hear that you walked in even a minute late."

"Understood, sir."

"You can show up at work that early tomorrow morning, too for extra duty and clean the latrines."

"Got it," I hear Brodie grit between his teeth, making my breath hitch because I know my Dad all too well to know that he doesn't take lightly to an unwarranted attitude. My ears are ringing with the quiet that won't seem to end and I sit up higher in the bathtub, relieving my lungs from the sting of the air I'm having to hold in.

"Is there a problem, Dawson?"

The door creaks open further and I can hear someone take a step back. Not being able to bear the unknown anymore, I carefully peek out of the side of the plastic curtain, finally allowing my eyes to see the heated scene going on beyond it. My Dad is now in clear view, only a small space hanging between him and Brodie, who's standing with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched slightly. Never did I think I'd see the day where these two would be standing face-to-face, and my head starts to go dizzy from the anticipation of what might happen next.

"I believe that you meant to say 'yes sir'."

Brodie takes a long, deep breath and I can tell he's fighting hard not to say something more to him. Please don't. As if he can hear my thoughts, his eyes glance over to me for a short moment, not lingering long before his stare returns to my Dad.

Exhaling another breath, he finally answers back, "Yes sir. 6:00 AM tomorrow morning."

Stepping away, my Dad finally passes back through the doorway, returning to the hallway that he came from and finally granting me the opportunity to breathe again. "Not a minute fucking late. You got that?"

My ears are grateful to hear the last, "Yes sir," of the night as the door closes, allowing us the privacy and security that I'll never take for granted ever again. Brodie's back falls against the wall behind him, and I'm positive he does it because it's the only thing keeping him standing right now as his chest heaves from the labored breaths he's taking.

Making sure to still keep his voice low in case a certain someone still happens to be lingering outside, he groans, "You're Dad is an asshole, Lani."

I stay quiet, letting his statement sink in as my mind replays the incident that just occurred, realizing just how close my Dad was to discovering me in Brodie's bed tonight. And suddenly, the bathroom echoes with the sounds of my laughter, and I'm certain that this is my body's way of coping with the panic and anxiety that came with our unexpected arrival tonight.

"Why are you laughing?"

But the question only makes my laughter grow- so much, in fact, that I can't even find the breath to answer his question.

"It's not funny," he lies, fighting hard to keep a straight face and I still can't stop cackling despite how badly I wish I could relieve the growing ache in my belly. Brodie pushes his back off of the wall, beginning to step towards the bathtub as he taunts, "So you take amusement out of my suffering now, huh?"

"I'm sorry," I snort, knowing that this is a completely inappropriate response to what just happened but unable to do anything to stop it.

"No, you're not," he starts to chuckle, unable to hold it back anymore. He yanks the shower curtain open on me, reaching over to the silver handle on the wall before I have a second to stop him. "But you will be."

The showerhead above me blasts on, its cold water hitting my exposed skin and making me shriek from its icy touch. "Brodie!"

He grabs the handheld showerhead from the wall, tormenting me more with the chilly water as he aims it closer to my body. "Stop," I giggle, pathetically attempting to steal it out of his hand but still becoming absolutely soaked. "This water is freezing!"

"You better get used to it, island girl. Especially if you plan on coming to Michigan with me someday," he teases, still not letting up as the water begins to drench my hair.

Gripping onto his t-shirt, I yank him towards me, causing him to lose his balance as he topples into the bathtub with me. My shirt presses against his, making him hiss as the freezing water begins to soak into his own clothes. We're both in a complete fit of laughter, and I fight hard to twist the stream of the showerhead away from me but he's not letting me win that easy.

"Ah, ah, ah," he reprimands, displaying the muscles in his biceps as he grunts to keep it pointed on me.

"Okay, okay," I give in, feeling myself starting to shiver from the unbearable temperature of the water. "I'm going to turn into an ice cube!"

Finally giving my body some relief, Brodie reaches behind him, turning off the water before finally deciding to help me up. I'm completely stiff where I stand, my teeth chattering as water drips from the drenched edges of my shirt into the bathtub.

Brodie snorts as he looks over me in my poor state, and I pout, "It's not funny."

But I can't help but giggle as soon as the phrase leaves my mouth, knowing that he was saying the same thing only a few moments ago.

He smiles as he peels his oversized, wet shirt off of my body. "Let's get you warm, baby."

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1 month later

🔵

My stare is lost in the text message and to my misluck, it doesn't stay there long as my Mom reprimands me, "Phone up, Lela. Table five needs their check and all of your tables have drinks that need to be filled."

Letting out an exasperated breath, I put my phone back into my pocket, having to leave the text on read until I find another chance to sneak away to the restroom for a minute. "Can I not have just a minute, Momma?" I groan, ripping the paper bill from the printer beside me and shoving it into my apron.

"When this rush is over you can."

"You've been saying that all day," I remind her as a fetch an empty tray and start to pile it with the steamy plates of food stacked in the food window. "If you can't tell, I'm a little stretched thin here. I was just taking a quick break."

"We all are honey," she sighs, doing her own series of tasks as she assembles another full tray of food, "but we've gotta make it work."

"Hey, chicka," my best friend hollers from behind me, conjuring my attention as she enters the kitchen. "You got a visitor at table seven."

"Are you serious?" I complain, feeling my feet ache from today's long hours of work. There is no way I am getting out of here early today, which means the chances of me catching a wave before sunset are slim to none.

"As serious as a heart attack," she chimes back, and I can't help but feel envious of her zealous energy because I could really use some of it right now.

The winter competition is only a few weeks away, and the pressure of that along with the fact that I've only gotten to see Brodie a handful of times in the past month makes work the last place I ever want to be. If it's not my Dad being a hard-ass and keeping him late at work, it's my Mom needing me to pull overtime here and our conflicting schedules are only starting to make the circumstances of our relationship that much more difficult.

Taking a deep breath to keep the tears I can feel starting to rise at bay, I make my way out to my tables. I make my first stop at table four, handing their plates out before I make my way to table five and drop off their check.

"Here you are," I say, keeping the tone in my voice as friendly as I can manage as I set the receipt and pen down onto the tabletop. I don't linger there for long, knowing that the rest of my tables are needing refills and another table is requiring my greeting. "Have a good day. Mahalo."

"I'll get the drinks filled," Alana appears behind me, playfully tugging onto my ponytail and causing a smile to pull onto my face for the first time during today's shift. Walking around me, she nods forward, "Go greet your table."

My eyes fall onto the single guest at the table closest to the front door of Malia's Cafe, my heart immediately swelling with relief to find out who's come to pay me a visit. Plopping down onto the empty booth seat across from him, I say, "Long time, no see old man."

Uncle Robbie chuckles, "Who are you calling old? Forty-five is the new twenty-one, Lelani, and I've still got swag for a white guy."

"Swag?" I snort, not believing that he just uttered that word. "You're done, old man. You're done."

"Hey, hey," he chuckles, "Stop being hateful and let me order some food, dammit."

"Only if you promise to never say that again," I giggle.

"Yeah, yeah," he waves me off, finally pulling off his camouflage hat and revealing his gelled, blonde hair that hides underneath. "Bite me."

"Where's your butt buddy, huh? " I continue to tease him, referring to my Dad who's currently missing from the table.

"Where do you think he is?"

Work, as always. Probably holding Brodie hostage there with him, too.

"He might as well move into that office of his," I mutter back, crossing my arms against my chest and slinking down into my seat.

"Look who's talking," he fires back, nodding to me. "Don't you have a competition to be preparing for, kid? You're supposed to be practicing on those waves and instead, you're here passing out plates of loco moco."

"Finally," I exclaim dramatically, smacking my palms down against the table. "Somebody who gets it! That's exactly what I'm supposed to be doing right now but Momma is holding me here against my will."

"This place short on workers again?"

"When are we not short, Uncle Robbie?" The door at the front of the restaurant chimes, calling my attention to it as several customers finally start to leave. Exhaling a breath of relief, I say, "It looks like the rush we'll be over soon. So what can I get for you, old man?"

"Just grab me the special on the menu today, I'm not picky."

Rising from my seat before I'm tempted to sit any longer, I respond, "You've got it. Drink?"

"Dr. Pepper," he smiles.

I nod, promising to fulfill his order because despite how badly I'm ready to get the hell out here, at least the customer I'm having to deal with is Robbie. I start my walk back to the kitchen, but his voice stops me one last time.

"Hey, kid."

"Hmm?" I ask, turning on my heel to face him again.

In his hand, he holds a $50 bill, waving it and baiting me to take it. I shake my head, refusing the generous payment, "Family is on the house. You know that."

"Take the money, Lelani," he insists, holding his arm out until I reluctantly take the cash. Reaching over his booth towards the sign hanging on the door, his fingers twist it from open to closed and he sends me a sly wink. "This should hold off the crowds for a bit."

"Momma is going to kill you and me, both," I laugh, amazed at this man's ability to always find a way to cheer me up.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her. Go catch some waves before the sun goes down."

I cut my eyes around my surroundings, making sure my Mom isn't anywhere near, conveniently watching our exchange before I quietly mouth back, "You're the shit."

Nearly skipping with joy, I find myself back in the kitchen, running into my best friend who's apparently been waiting for me. "Well someone looks about $50 happier," she laughs.

"This is for you, ma'am," I inform her, placing the money into her hand.

"Huh?" She asks, obviously confused. "I'm not taking your tips, Lela."

"Yes, you are. And technically it's yours anyway. I owe you for all of my shifts you've covered."

"Well, in that case," she smiles sinisterly, shoving the money into her pocket. "Is your mom going to free us from this prison anytime soon? My feet are killing me and I've got a Tinder date that I need to shave for if you get what I'm saying."

"You know you scare me shitless when you meet up with those random ass strangers, right?"

"He's not a stranger," she attempts to assure me. "We've hooked up a total of six times now. He's practically a regular. Besides, I know you aren't trying to lecture me right now, Miss men-suck-and-i-hate-marines-marine-fucker. Brodie was a stranger once too, you know?"

"Shut up," I chuckle, trying to ignore her playful dig as I begin to put Robbie's order into the computer. "My circumstances are completely different."

"My circumstances are completely different," she mocks me in a god-awful high-pitched voice. "You mean different in the way that you have to keep hiding the person you're having spicy sex sessions with from your parents?"

"I'm leaving this conversation now," I affirm, turning my back to her in an effort to ignore her antagonizing.

"Fine," she huffs, reaching over me and pettily snatching a straw from the boxes piled in front of me. "You're just mad because I'm right, chicka."

"Love you," I sing out to her before she disappears into the front of the restaurant.

"Kiss my ass," she spits back, flipping me the bird before she rounds the corner leading into the dining room. I laugh as her head pops back around and pouts, "Love you, too, I guess."

Still not seeing Momma anywhere in sight, I use the moment of solitude to my advantage, pulling my phone out of my pocket and typing up a quick reply to Brodie.

⚪️

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🎉

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