I force another spoonful of food into my mouth and smile awkwardly at Simone.
"So? How is it?" She asks.
"It's great, never tasted anything like it." I'm not a very good liar but I'm sure that comes out as believable because she beams. I glance at the rest of the guys on the table and we all share awkward looks.
You might be wondering what's going on. Well for starters, I think any meal Simone cooks should come out of the pot with a label that says: Eat me if you want to die.
The Salmon resting on my plate stares at me and I stare back. So earlier today, we came up with the idea of learning new traditional Hawaiian foods. We see the hotel chefs doing their thing every time in the kitchen and we got inspired. I mean, if they can, why can't we?
I found out the answer to that question today. They have a Culinary art diploma while we have a High school diploma.
We went for the Lomi Salmon because it looked the easiest to make. The meal always leaves a lingering scent on our noses as it's cured with salt and diced up along with tomatoes, onions, and normally some chili peppers.
She was just supposed to cook the Salmon and sprinkle salt and in my defense, ended up cooking salt and sprinkling Salmon.
Yes, it's that bad.
"And that, my friends, is how you master the art of cooking," Simone proudly announces across the table.
"How about you master the art of something else?" Lacey chips in from my left and I jab my elbow in her rib cage. Simone would feel bad if she knew we felt her food tasted like raw vinegar.
"What was that?"
"Nothing!" I squeal, Simone, giving me a suspicious look before diverting her attention to the rest of the people on the table.
"You owe me a new rib." Lacey rubs at where I hit her.
"How's working on the beach so far?" I ask, shoving half of my food into a cup and hiding it under the table from Simone's stare.
"I get to see half-naked guys almost twenty-four hours in a day, what's there not to like?" Lacey casually mirrors my action. "And besides, I got numbers of a few already."
"Really? Give me their names."
"Dylan over there just have the abs and muscles for showcasing when his one-eyed snake is really the size of my pinkie. No joke."
"You hooked up with him?" Simone shoots us a glance and we both abruptly stop putting the Salmon into the cup.
"And regretted it. He couldn't even last two minutes. I got my eyes on Lamotie next."
"You mean hottie Lamotie? With the swimmer's body?" I wiggle my brows up and down.
"I will fight you if you go anywhere near him."
I shake my head as I laugh, my light caramel hair bobbing along. "I don't think you're going to be having a problem with me in that aspect."
"Yeah, you're right. I mean, you literally punched the guy you were supposed to flirt with."
I open my mouth to reply but Simone beat me to it. "Are you guys putting your foods under the table?!"
"Uh... what's a table?"
"Yeah, quick thinking Allie," Lacey says beside me.
"Who else thinks my cooking is horrible?" Simone asks the rest of the table as they all bring out all they've been putting into their cups. Well, I'm not the only guilty one.
"Look, it's not like we think your cooking is horrible..." The whole table shoots me a 'tell her the damn truth' look and I sigh. "It's bad, it's really bad."
Simone is sensitive. No matter how much she tries to deny and hide it under her hard exterior, there's a tender little heart that shatters easily when mishandled. The look on her face right now can testify to that.
"I'm just going to go." She stands as we all watch her exit the lounge.
"She'll be fine," Lacey says with a wave of her hand and grabs my phone which is resting on the table.
"What are you doing?"
"Finishing what you started that pool party night." She crosses her legs furiously as if enjoying what she's about to do. Yeah, I don't think I like that look on her face.
I take a peek at my phone in her hands and see her typing a number on my phone.
"Whose is that?"
"Noah's." My eyes widen ten times larger as I swallow the huge lump in my throat.
"Don't you put that on my phone!" I watch her save the number. "Don't you text him on my phone!"
"Hey Handsome," She says aloud while texting, completely ignoring me.
"Don't you send that message!"
Lacey smirks as she hits the send button. "Oops."
My head immediately snaps to where he's seated at the other side of the lounge. Noah drops the cookie he's nibbling at and fetches his phone from his pockets. The grim look on his face doesn't falter one bit when he reads the message.
"You are going to be the death of me," I tell Lacey.
"Relax and let a pro like me handle it."
"I'll scream if you don't give me back my phone."
"The only thing you'll be screaming today is his name by the end of the day when I'm done with your phone." It's just only words yet I feel violated. "He texted back. Want to see?"
"No, I don't..." Curiosity gets the better of me as I eye the phone in her hands. "Yes, I want to see."
Him: I'm not sure who this is.
"Great! We'll just tell him it's a wrong number."
"I have a better idea," Lacey rolls her eyes at me and reads aloud while she texts back. "I'll give you a clue. The name's Coral."
"That's not a clue! You just told him my name!... wait that's not my name."
"Will you shut the hell up now?" She lets out an exasperated sigh as my phone dings with a new message. We both read it.
Him: Doesn't ring a bell.
"Wasn't expecting it to," Lacey types. "I have something else you could nibble on other than the cookie on your plate by the way."
He doesn't reply immediately so we look up to see him eye scanning the small crowd in the lounge before blue-grey eyes finally land on me. My breath hitches in my throat as I hide under my light caramel hair and look away awkwardly.
"I think he knows it's us," I whisper like he'd hear me from the far end of the lounge even if I speak in a normal tone.
"He doesn't."
"Then why is he looking at me like I borrowed his reproductive system?"
"It depends. Did you borrow it?"
I roll my eyes at her. "What did he say?"
Him: You sound like a creepy stalker.
"Only for you," She texts back as we both wait in anticipation after he reads the message. Nothing. No response. He tucks his phone back into his pockets and continues on his cookie.
"He left it on read? Do we look like a fucking book to him?"
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