Dahlia has lived in our universe as an immortal for centuries. She has a soft spot for this universe - all the good and all the bad - and has made the best of an admittedly bad situation. Her universe? It...went through some things, but who cares, w...
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AYIA NAPA WAS as beautiful as everyone said it was, and during the thirty odd-minute drive from the airport to the hotel, the only person who spoke was the cab driver, which was perfectly fine with me.
Unlike South Africa at this time of year, Cyprus was a lit furnace, and I'd had to shed every layer of thermal clothing the instant our plane had touched down. I was a sweaty, dirty mess, and my stomach was rumbling loud enough for our cab driver to make a comment about how great the breakfast buffet was at the hotel he was talking us to.
There was nothing but blue sky and even bluer coastlines out the window, and it made me think about how there was still a lot of beauty to be seen in this world. Could I really, truly say goodbye to it all? And for what? A decayed shell of a world that we were supposed to rebuild from scratch?
"You're mad at me?" I deigned to ask Marcus, once we'd finally made it to our hotel rooms. Despite my offering to pay, Marcus had been the one to spring for the three rooms, which was incredibly generous of him.
Marcus scowled at me. "Oh, is it that obvious?"
"Well, yes."
"Good." He tapped his keycard against the card reader on the door of his room. "I hope you know that you're risking all our lives."
"Marcus," I began as he opened his door, "I didn't ask you to come with me."
"No," he said, his voice steely, "but I couldn't change Simone's mind, so I had no choice but to come."
And with that, the door was slammed in my face.
"Jeez," Simone's voice came from behind me. "He's not your biggest fan, huh?"
"I wonder what gave you that impression," I muttered.
"Is that sarcasm, Mother?"
I turned to face her. "Is your plan to antagonize me until – I don't know – you feel better about this entire situation?"
She stood in front of her door. "You feel antagonized?"
"Is this how it's going to be from now on?"
"Girl, I have no idea what you're talking about." She gave me a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm gonna shower. Call me when you're ready to go out."
I stood in the hallway after she went into her room. How the hell was I going to manage to not strangle her for the duration of this excursion?
I thought about it during my glorious shower – in which I washed my hair, moaning throughout – and I thought about it while I sat at the vanity table, blowing my hair out. There was no way I was ever going to win Mother of the Year, but maybe I could settle for just winning her over. This rebellious-teenager act was getting old, very quickly. It was as if she were making up for lost time by regressing to a childlike state.
