Page 130 of Total Dreamboat

“No, really. I’ll hang back,” I say. “Not in a pool mood.”

She frowns. “What are you going to do instead?”

Brood.

“Nap,” I say.

“I happen to know you don’t nap.”

“A night of attempting to sleep on cement is enough to overpower my insomnia.”

“Yeah, um. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I deserved it.”

She shrugs and disappears into the bathroom to change. She emerges in a red, gravity-defying bikini. I have seen this garment sitting on a windowsill. I have not yet seen it on her body. It knocks the bloody wind out of me.

“Sure you don’t want to come?” she asks.

I suspect the invitation is a peace offering, and part of me longs to accept it. But I feel too ill at ease. Every time I look at Hope, I get a fresh stab of regret.

“Don’t worry about me,” I say. “Go have fun.”

As soon as she’s gone, I collapse on one of the beds and close my eyes. I really do want to sleep. Between my guilt over Hope and the bracing discomfort of the floor, I spent most of last night staring at the ceiling.

I close my eyes and let exhaustion overpower everything else.

I jolt awake what feels like a few minutes later. Except the light is different, and when I reach for my phone, the clock reads four thirty p.m.

There are also three missed calls from my mother.

Which—fuck.

I realize I haven’t updated my family since picking up the money yesterday morning.

Now that things are calm, the extent to which I have fucked up looms large and ominous in my mind.

I feel like I used to in the deepest throws of a hangover, when the fractured events of the last binge filter back in nauseating snippets. The idiotic things that you did. The people you pissed off or worried or hurt.

I open our family’s WhatsApp group to almost two days’ worth of unread messages.

Pear:Feeeeelix!!!! What is going on???

Prue:Are you a stateless person???

Dad:Were you able to get an emergency travel document? I found a contact at the High Commission who may be able to help.

Mum:Darling we’re so worried! Please check in!

Pear:You’re missing standup comedy night. Maybe you should try to swim and catch up with us.

Mum:Not funny.

And then, from late last night:

Prue:Felix WTF? Are you ok?? What is going on???

If the likes of Prue is expressing genuine concern for me, they must be very worried indeed.