2019

For as long as I could remember, I loved the idea of running away.

Not actually running away. Just the thought of it. Let's face it, I wasn't cut out for life outside of my island, and everybody around me knew that, hence why I avoided the trip to Seattle during my senior year of high school. What I did love, regardless of my headstrong stance to remain in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, was the sensation of soaring through life until I arrived at the place I thought I always wanted to be. The closest I got to it was either when I ran (literally) or on those rare occasions I surfed.

Today's choice of escapism was the former.

I wasn't sure the exact moment the hobby turned into a coping mechanism—common sense would suggest the sudden change after my father's death wasn't a coincidence—but I figured there were worse ways of dealing with stress, even the variety I was convinced only existed as a figment of my imagination. Whenever something new disrupted the status quo of my life, the running picked up. And then, eventually, I'd start asking Kanani to hit the waves more often.

Hitting that runner's high was experiencing life on a different level. I held it in similar regards to getting a perfect swell of a wave. Or even playing that note on my oboe that's so perfectly in tune it sounds like something out of a dream.

I decided then and there that I simply didn't want to live a life where these moments didn't exist. Coming down from them was cathartic, even if it meant returning to my regular life. There were many days when a lot of things just didn't seem worth it. These moments of solitude always held their own.

The only downside was that I looked like a towel wrung out to dry once I finished my run. It wasn't an attractive look even on the best of people, but I had the foresight to return home to shower before making the trek over to Kaipo's house. It was his day off. I used to have his schedule memorized for different reasons.

If he felt used after the shift in our friendship, he never admitted it to me. Maybe I could have been more proactive on my end by checking in on him myself, but I was never quite in the right headspace to do the smart thing when I came around like this—coping mechanisms and all that—and part of me always trusted the idea that Kaipo would rather speak up than stay stuck in a place he ever felt trapped in. If I had the ability to recognize why I felt the need to sleep with someone who I had never and would never have romantic feelings for, and vice versa, I probably wouldn't be doing it in the first place.

Kaipo wasn't surprised to see me standing there on his porch when he opened the door about two minutes after I pounded my fist against it. It happened so often that my mind liked to imagine the door would eventually curve to the shape of my knuckles.

"I just woke up five minutes ago," he complained.

One glance up and down and I could tell that much. "Fancy a fun wake-up call?"

Despite still waking up from the haziness, he laughed and let me in. Kaipo always let me in, even when I wasn't sure I was good enough of a friend for him.

...

As I tugged my shirt back over my head after we finished, Kaipo rolled onto his back with one arm behind his head and the sheet craftily pulled right up to his hips. There were times when I'd look at him and wonder how the boyish youth had transformed into this more defined sculpture. Time had seemingly passed by in a blur even though, day to day, it moved at a snail's pace.

"Does Kanani know about us?"

"That we're friends?" I asked, messing around. "Of course, she knows. You've known our family since we were babies."

Kaipo rolled his eyes and attempted to throw the TV remote at me, but I dodged it and watched as it thudded onto the thin carpet-covered hardwood floor. Sometimes when I snuck into his house and slept over, I would stare at the carpet and run my fingers over it as Kaipo lay sleeping next to me. I would bet I could recognize that shade of blue anywhere I went.

"About us sleeping together."

"Believe it or not, Kaipo, I don't talk to my sister about my sex life."

"You don't need to give her details for her to know about us."

I shot him a curious look, eyebrow raised. "Are you saying you want her to know about us?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm just surprised, is all. You two normally share everything about your life with each other."

Stepping away from the mattress, I reached down to grab my jeans that had been hastily tossed aside like the obstruction of seduction it was. (Who was I kidding, Kaipo and I didn't do foreplay. Sex was like ripping off a bandaid, except more enjoyable.)

"You can tell her yourself if you want. I feel no need to share this detail with her."

Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could feel him eyeing me carefully, trying to size up if I was purposely playing some reverse psychology bullshit on him or if I was genuinely this nonchalant about our sexual relationship. In the end, he seemed to settle for the latter. To be frank, I wasn't entirely convinced I leaned one way more than the other.

"Is it that guy?"

I flicked a scowl over my shoulder. "Is it who?"

"That guy," he explained, "from the party. Threw you for a loop."

"Were you spying on me?"

Even before he answered, I knew he didn't care. Not like that. Skeptics didn't believe a casual friends-with-benefits could stay that way, but Kaipo and I were open and honest about our feelings (or lack thereof). In our eyes, these were mutually beneficial meetings to unwind. That had never changed between us; just the way we did it.

He scoffed. "You weren't in hiding or anything. Wasn't hard to miss."

"Anthony and Kanani were both outside too."

"They were still at the house when the dude took you home."

"Yeah." I leaned over to grab the remote and flung it back at him, but he caught it easily. "My house. As in he dropped me off."

"I'm just messing with you," he urged. I believed it. We joked around a lot, but we didn't mess with each other out of malevolence. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"It was just... a conversation at a party. And a ride home because I drank."

"Sure. If you say so." Kaipo smiled in a way that showcased the way he moved through life as a younger sibling. I believed it to be different than being a middle child.

Cutting across the cool hardwood floor, I peeked out of the window at the bare driveway below. It wasn't like I necessarily needed to sneak out whenever his parents were home as they were more aware and generally supportive people, no matter what happened between us. The sneaking around just came as second nature.

Kaipo eventually pulled on some clothes and ushered me downstairs so he could make us an early lunch. We talked about work, as friends did. And I tried to not zone out while we socialized, which should have been easier than it was since we hadn't spoken in a few weeks, not for any other reason than getting caught up in our own riptides.

Whenever I drifted off, I wondered whether I was a bad person or not. I liked bonding with loved ones. And I certainly loved Kaipo; we'd been friends for as long as I could remember. I just got too stuck in my own head sometimes, wondering whether I was somehow living inside a dream or a dream of a dream or some mess even more complicated than that. It was like I wanted to do something more or be someone more. Be a better friend; be a better sister; be a better nameless face in the crowd. If someone whipped out a can of WD40, they could spray a few times and get rid of all the parts of me that were stuck into place. I could be brand new and shiny again.

I had to have been like that before, right?

...

Mama looked like she'd been run over by a semi.

None of us wanted to admit it, but there were more of these days than not. Maybe sadness was contagious and I'd been down too often that I let my mom catch it too. The lines around her eyes were more pronounced, as were the dark circles. While she still looked young for her age, it was clear how tired she was. What worried me was that this had become a constant state of existence. A perpetual operation through layers upon layers of exhaustion, and no matter how much or how little we tried to help, it didn't seem to move the needle in one direction or the other.

I called up to Leimomi to help unload all the groceries from the car.

"How was work?" I asked.

It took so long for my mother to respond I thought she might not have heard me. Her march to the fridge was slow with dragging feet, and I looked away as she tapped the family picture that hung on the front of the appliance. Even as the ink faded and the ends curled in on themselves, my father's smile still managed to shine bright, front and center.

"The usual."

"Want me to make you something to eat?"

She waved me off, sulking back to the table with a can of passion orange juice in hand. Her body slumped onto the chair. "It's okay. Keali'i said he was going to bring over some KFC."

"Leimomi. I'm not going to ask twice." I waited to hear my sister thump downstairs before I turned back to my mother. "If you're sure—"

"I'm sure," she said, more forcefully than last time.

I shrugged and stepped away.

When my younger sister trudged back into the house wearing a smile you would have thought she'd been made to trek through a minefield, I grabbed the bags from her and lifted them onto the kitchen counter. Before she could walk away, I pinched the back of her shirt, yanking her into place.

"I was in the middle of a game."

"You were talking to your girlfriend. That still doesn't change that you need to put these away."

It wasn't often that I played the role of a responsible adult in our household. Kanani tended to take up that mantle, but when she wasn't home I managed to pull myself up to the plate. Most of the time it felt like wearing a mask. Or worse, wearing someone else's mask; I knew Kanani didn't enjoy having to be the responsible one. She never signed up to be our mother.

Leimomi recognized all of this as well, and she crossed her arms at my commands.

"You know, Nani does a better job at bossing me around."

Somehow, she had managed to lodge her insult directly where it hurt most.

Maybe I was being unnecessarily grouchy, but the side effects of my coping mechanism hadn't kicked in yet, so when I spotted Leimomi's phone sticking out of her back pocket, I swiped it before she could stop me.

"How about we try something new then? I hold onto your phone until you put the groceries away and set up the table for dinner."

"That's not fair. You added something else."

"I shouldn't have to tell you twice. You sit around all day and then have to be told to help out Mom when she comes home. This is your kuleana, Lei."

By the time I stepped outside, Leimomi had already started putting everything away. The sound of crunching gravel exploded like fireworks until Keali'i's car came into view with him driving and Kanani in the passenger seat. A bag of red and white KFC containers flashed at me from the middle of the backseat.

As soon as they opened their doors, I smelled the fried chicken and pressed a hand against my stomach. I couldn't remember if I'd eaten lunch.

Keali'i enveloped me in a hug as soon as he came near me.

I stood frozen, neither rejecting him nor reciprocating. "Um, hi. What's with the physical affection?"

"You look like shit. Thought you needed it."

"Thanks. I feel better already."

"That's what I'm here for."

"I thought you were just good for the free food but I learn something new every day."

Keali'i pulled my head into his chest with an arm around my neck, rubbing his knuckles against my hair. If I thought I looked even remotely human today, I might have been mad at him. Instead, I shoved Leimomi's phone into his chest.

"Took this from the squirrel. You can play good cop and give it back if you want."

He tucked it into his pocket. "Not if you're teaching her a lesson."

I laughed and pushed past him, hoping there would be food left over by the time I came back. Kanani called out to me but I waved her off. It was too late to go for a swim but the ocean was calling for me. And whenever it did, I always answered.