Timmy:
Welcome to Hawaii!
Jesus, these guys are real predators. It’s as if they’re trying to be the first to message her on arrival so they can lock her down.
It’s like they weretracking her flight.
David always tracks her flight, but he lives on the other side of the world and is obsessed with planes. But these guys?
Well, shit. I mean, I guess I'm doing it too.
But I’m doing it from a good place, not to take advantage of a lonely and vulnerable woman who’s just arrived in a new city.
And sure, I’m now reading through her texts and her dating apps and following her Ubers around. God, I’m sounding like a real creep.
But I need to make sure she’s okay. I just have a feeling she’s very, very not.
I looked at flights to Sunset Cay last night, and almost booked one, but I decided not to at the last minute.
That’s the last thing she needs in this new phase of her life, her brother’s childhood best friend following her around and hiding behind trees while she tries to live her day-to-day life. She’d be so pissed if I did that.
She’d be so pissed at what I’m doing now.
But I can’t stop seeing what she’s doing, and checking in on her, because I care.
A secret protector, from a distance.
12
CHASED ON ARRIVAL
The apartment’s view is even better than I expected. From my balcony, I can see the beach and a well-known mountain peak, Strawberry Head, on one side, and then a golf course and mountains on the other.
As I take it all in, the leasing agent says, “Oh, and you might hear a dog yapping from time to time, from the apartment to your right. Sorry about that in advance.” She lets out a little laugh. “That’s my dog. I’m actually your neighbor.”
“Oh,” I say, a little surprised. “I didn’t realize that.” Not sure what else to say, I awkwardly add, “Hi, neighbor!”
I feel a little confused as I remember back to her insistence that I move into this specific apartment. You’d think that, given she lived right next door, she would have mentioned that. But she’s springing it on me now, as I’m moving in.
Why did she want me to move in next to her so badly? It just seems like an odd thing to do, especially as she waited to tell me this piece of information. Not that I’m expecting to host ragers or anything, but living next to someone who works in the building makes me feel a little bit like I’m under surveillance.
But I try to shrug it off. Maybe she wanted someone around herage, a single woman, to live near her. Thought I would be quiet and keep to myself, versus someone moving in with their partner and children. Maybe it was just selfish on her part. I’d say I’ll be keeping an eye on her, but I have this weird feeling she’ll be keeping an eye on me.
She leaves me to it, and I begin to bring the suitcases up one by one. It’s easy to unpack, given I don’t have much stuff. I load up the brand new washing machine with clothes—because they all have that ick plane smell—and take a moment to sit and just look out at the view. For the first time in a while, I exhale, and I’m still.
Although I’m glad to be here, I feel discombobulated, disoriented—my mind still hasn’t quite processed that I live here yet—on this island. But I know the hardest parts are behind me. Packing up the San Francisco apartment, getting my cat and my belongings here, and moving my things into this gorgeous place. I’m here now, and my mind will catch up soon. Getting Sabre out of quarantine will be the last step in setting up this exciting new chapter.
My phone pings. It’s Timmy again.
Timmy:
Hey! Let’s go feed the ducks at the park!
Me:
Oh man, that sounds fun but I’m exhausted.
Can we do it another day? I just got all my stuff moved in.