Chapter Five

Miami Beach

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"But on the sneak, Miami bringing heat for real, y'all don't understand."  Will Smith - Jessie

Miami Beach, Century South Beach Hotel, August 7th

Jessie

"Oh darling, that's a rather unfair surprise but you were prepared for it eventually, right? If not I packed an extra box for you. In case."

"You did? Where?"

My mum pauses for a moment, then continues. "Left hand side of your case, in the small zip compartment where your hand sanitiser and bottle of Savlon should be."

I nod, even though she can't see me and I tell her that I'm really grateful, but have to go because it's costing a fortune to call her. "Ring you in a couple of days. Say hi to Dad and Daniel for me."

As I pace back into our room, Ellis's eyes bug out like he's surprised to see me upright and walking. Because waking up on a sun lounger, with kids splashing at my feet was surprise enough. Waking up to my period come five days early was just cruel.

And right now, it's in a vengeful state and has been giving me hell all damn morning. 

"You want me to get anything for you?" Ellis offers, looking every bit as helpless as he can only be in this situation. 

I tuck a handful of tampons into my small satchel and shrug, "A different uterus? One that preferably isn't trying to murder me from within?"

"Might take me a while," he says with a broad smirk, "I'm not sure what the black market for uterus's is like here in Miami but I'm willing to give it try."

I laugh into my hand until the cramps de-rail me again. "Thank you, I appreciate that." To be fair to Ellis, he's handling this a hell of a lot better than all the guys at school or college who greet the sight of tampons and the girls that need them with either a) repulsion and disgust or b) childish sneers and insults. 

When we're set and ready to venture out into a brave new world - Miami Beach - for the first time, I notice that he stuffs a few tampons into the side of his backpack and a packet of Paracetamols before checking all the lights are off and our passports in the safe. 

And though I am beginning to feel a bit dizzy from blood loss and the humidity, and lack of breakfast, I do have the energy to hug him for doing so and to let him know that there's a tampon poking out his backpack still, visible for all too see as we leave the hotel. 

He doesn't even give it a second glance. 

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Miami Beach, Cameo Theatre, Washington Ave - August 9th

"Can we please go get a drink on the way back or an ice cream or go drown ourselves in the ocean, because it's so hot right now."

Ellis gives me the eyebrows and continues to take pictures of the Cameo Theatre on his newly purchased iPhone 4. 

I know I sound whiney but we've been out since early morning and we've ticked off most of the filming locations for Ellis's fourth favourite film - Ace Venture: Pet Detective. I'd say it's about time we do something for me, which I hope involves food and giving my feet a proper rest. 

"Of course," he begins, for what feels like the hundredth time today. "How sssselfish of me." It's his best Jim Carrey impression. It kind of sucks but I'll never tell him. He looks too cute doing it. 

He's done a lot of impressions in the past two days of intense walking and non-stop tours. Especially outside of Johnny Rockets, to pay homage to his fifth favourite film - Scarface and the legendary chainsaw scene on Ocean Drive. 

Ellis has been like a kid let loose in a sweet shop and I am too: popping paracetamol like it's candy because it's the only thing to ward of the pain of period cramps in full swing. 

Though it's not been all bad. I'm warming to Miami and not because I've no other choice. It's absolutely roasting. No, I actually like it. It's more my style than New York, much to Ellis's amusement. 

He's still giving me serious side eye for every line of Will Smith's "Miami" I utter or sing loudly, which I've been doing a fair bit, each time we hit the strip or leave the hotel. 

"You want to go try the beach again?" Ellis asks, finally saying goodbye to yet another filming location. "Maybe you can ditch the towel this time."

He's referring to our first trip to the beach. One full of beautiful, gorgeous men and women. I spent most of the afternoon wrapped in a star spangled banner beach towel and my own consciousness. 

"I've a different plan," I say, nodding towards the shiny metal 11th street rail road style diner and it's All Day Breakfast sign. "First, food and then pool. Deal?"

"Sounds like a plan I can get fully behind."

"Good," I say, linking arms with him to cross past brightly coloured Camaros. 

"Not like I'd have any other choice."

I grin and ruffle his hair. "You know me so well."

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Miami Beach, Century South Beach Hotel, 3pm

"Just jump in," Ellis calls out, with a splash to tempt me into the pool whilst he watches. "Honestly you've nothing to worry about, ditch the towel."

"Says the guy who was born without any ounce of fat on him and who still doesn't have any."

He rolls his eyes and paddles closer. "Jessie, you look-" He pauses. It's a long one. A bad pause. I can see that he's racking his brains for something kind to say. 

It's not exactly a boost of confidence.

"-Fine," he says, finally. Fine. Wow. 

I slide into the pool, straight in at the deep end so he can't see me. I hope he doesn't expect me to compliment him. He doesn't need it. Ellis has already got the mother of all tans. His skin all gloriously sun-kissed. Deeply golden. It makes his green eyes pop and his smile shine brighter. 

Though, it is hard to hide my shock at seeing him without a t-shirt on since last summer. Who knew that he had abs quite like that hiding under baggy t-shirts. 

"Don't prod them," he says, later once he's convinced me to join him on the abandoned inflatables left near the pool. Secretly I think he's actually a bit chuffed I've noticed.

"Wait, are you sure you should be in here?" Ellis laughs, when I gain balance on an inflatable grey shark with sharp edges and drawn on teeth. 

"What, in the pool?"

"Sharks can sniff out a drop of blood from like, a million miles away."

I shovel a hand full of water his way. "How dare you."

"Just checking," he says, smirking. 

As we drift aimlessly round the pool, with sunglasses on, $2 dollar beer cans in hand from the vending machine, we talk about how beautiful everyone is. 

The sun might be setting but the glow of Miami's hottest still shines bright. When a slim women in neon pink stiletto's and a mini dress glides by on the arm of an equally gorgeous man, I feel about as deflated as the shark beneath me. 

"It's so unfair. They're all so..."

Ellis necks the rest of his beer and says, "Full of plastic? Botox?"

"So beautiful."

"Maybe from a distance."

I scoff and fiddle with the ring pull on my can of beer. Anything to distract from Ellis floating nearer, with a six pack that I've been admiring from a distance the past couple of hours. 

"It's true," he says and I ask him about the waitress from the diner. "She wasn't pumped full of plastic through. She was naturally pretty."

I feel like I'm sinking. 

"You might want to top that up or abandon ship," Ellis says, laughing. My shark begins to fold in on itself. And then I see the green mould on the under side and roll off. 

When I reach the surface and gasp for air, Ellis's sunglasses bob near my face and then he appears inches away. 

"I used to be great at holding my breath. Not so much anymore."

"You used to be great at handstands," I say, remembering our trips middle school's trips to the outdoor paddling pool before it got demolished and turned into flats. It was also the first time I got flashed, though Ellis is still mortified that his swimming trunks came down on the water slide, in front of the whole class. 

"Used to?" His eyebrows arch and he drags a hand through his wet mop of dark hair. "Is that a challenge?"

The next ten minutes are spent watching Ellis successfully and unsuccessfully dive down with both hands, to shake his feet above the water. When he get's bored and complains about his eyes hurting, he does the one thing he knows I hate. 

"Your shark fin is not scary," I say, treading water and a weird fear that is completely irrational but still there as Ellis pretends to stalk me in the water. 

When he reaches me, water splashes up and his hands circle round me. 

"Don't you even try to lift me!" I shout, my mouth filling with water. I can hardly see a thing as he launches me into the air. 

Ellis tries to catch me in his arms but it doesn't work out as planned, though he tries again. 

I protest against it, but only because I'm afraid that he'll see my bikini top ride up again or notice that I'm staring at him too much. 

If I didn't know any better I'd say he's trying to flirt with me. You know, the way guys do it when they can't find words. 

Maybe it's the heat of the day getting to me, and the humid nights of little sleep but when he goes to turn and pull away, as if to say he's done, I reach for his shoulders and pull myself onto his back like I'm about to leap frog over his head. 

He goes down like a ship without a rudder. 

And as I do too and my eyes adjust to the water, I swear that his mouth brushes my neck and his hand beneath my hip bone. It leaves a sensation that tingles even when we finally drag ourselves out the water and he's shaken his hair all over my dry towel. 

"I'm going to head up for a shower," he announces, already unbolting the small gate from the chain link fence round the pool.

"But the hot water doesn't really kick in till 6ish," I remind him. Turns out not paying much for a hotel also means no guarantee of hot water or air-con that works. "It'll be freezing cold."

Ellis sighs, draping a towel round his tanned shoulders. "I know."

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Miami South Beach, 2.20am, August 10th

It's our last night and Ellis has been acting all weird ever since he left the pool and had his shower. 

We'd left the hotel at eight and got cuban sandwiches, and even then he couldn't make eye contact with me. Hardly said a word. 

Now, we're in a bar that we've been frequenting due to it's pool tables and quirky decor and for the fact they don't ask us for ID, which is a plus. 

Tonight though it seems that the usual hard rock over the stereo has been swapped for a DJ booth, a glitter ball and the badass beats of Gaga, Diana Ross and Beyoncé. 

Ellis refuses to dance, only bops along and sips his beer. But it's ok. I've made friends with a guy called Jeremy and his date Daryl who are happy to throw shapes on the makeshift dance floor with me, no matter whose watching. 

Outside, as they take a break to smoke, Jeremy informs me that he's here visiting his cousin, Miles. He tells me it's his first time in Miami and that he only met Daryl a day ago, outside an H&M.

Jeremy is a great dancer. He keeps on going even when the music pauses and he's happy to spin me round like record until I'm deliriously dizzy. Ellis has been watching, I know, in between checking his phone but it's not until I'm introduced to Miles that he actually puts it away. 

During a dance break, Miles asks me about home and Harry Potter and compliments me on my accent, which he says is "intriguing and sexy." He's tall and tanned and wears framed black glasses without any lenses in. 

By all accounts and a few beers, he's cute. Very. 

"We should go out sometime," he says hours later as the DJ cuts the music and we're told to drink up. It's 2.20am. "Call me."

"Sure," I say, though I know we're leaving tomorrow morning, for Austin, Texas. 

His voice, like butter melts through me as he gives his number, Facebook and says he's had a great time talking. No wonder he's a local radio station host. 

Ellis huffs and puffs as I hug Jeremy goodbye and swap profiles too. And he rolls his eyes hard when Jeremy forces Miles to rap for us, which he is stupidly good at. 

"I love Jeremy," I say on the short walk back.My feet feel drunk but my head feels fine. "Wasn't he just the best? And what a dancer!"

"Yup."

"And Miles was cool too. He's a radio DJ and he raps and writes poetry, did he tell you that?"

Ellis dodges a drop in the sidewalk and continues to stare ahead. "Maybe."

"He said he thought you were cool."

"Cool."

"He also said that the end of the world is imminent and we're all completely fucked."

"Cool." Ellis clearly isn't paying the slightest attention to anything I'm saying, even when I test him. So, I shut up. 

I shut my mouth and make the walk back with him in silence, except for the chatter of crickets and cars.

When we get into the hotel room, Ellis takes off his flannel shirt, tosses it aside and heads for the bathroom. I stand and wait for him but he takes too long. 

I collapse on the bed instead.

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In the morning, I wake to the sight of his toned, bare back two feet in front of me, gently rising and falling. Ellis has dragged his bed away from mine. There's now a gap between us. 

I swallow back last night's beer and the comparison to yesterday's morning wake up. 

How his hand had been on my waist, his nose grazing mine. Both of us facing each other in our sleep. Completely unaware but still attached. 

Just the same as it ever was.