𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄 ~ | 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘤

VI

Chapter Six:

~ It's me. I'm the April fool ~

If there is one piece of advice I can give you, it's never to trust your friend's idea of a surprise.

The boat ride was surprisingly smooth, even for the choppy waters of the Mediterranean. The sky was a vivid blue, dotted with a few fluffy white clouds that seemed to be playing hide and seek with the sun. The air was warm and salty, carrying the scent of the sea and other unfamiliar, exotic aromas that I couldn't quite place.

I'm not the salty scurvy sea dog that Rory is.

But that didn't stop me from sitting at the front of the mall boat and Titanic-ing the crap out of this bitch.

"Are we almost there?" I called to Rory, who was standing behind the wheel, concentrating.

"Yup. That's the one." She pointed. I followed her hand to see a small island about five minutes away

It looked like something straight out of a painting. Or a movie. Or a storybook. It was beautiful, with a small wharf and path that led up to a gorgeous cabin. There was a dock nearby, and a boat tied to it. But there was no one else in sight.

This should have been my first clue.

I was too excited to really care. I had never stayed on an island before. And with Rory and company? It was sure to be a blast.

"Why is there a boat here?" I frowned as we docked the small boat next to the one that was already there. It was a nice one, but I didn't recognize it.

"I have no clue. Maybe it's the owners. We are just borrowing this place for the weekend after all." She laughed a little too loudly.

The island looked even more serene and peaceful from here. It was hard to believe that anything could go wrong.

"Anyway, tie the boat up and let's go. The house is just up the path," Rory said, motioning towards a dirt path that wound its way through the lush greenery.

I hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the sparkling water and the distant horizon, but then followed her lead. The air was warm and humid, and I could feel my skin prickle with sweat as we walked.

I could already tell that some rich white couple lived here. The kind of people who had more money than sense and spent it all on fancy getaways like this.

The cabin was a beautiful two-story structure, with whitewashed walls and a red tile roof that stretched out in every direction. The windows were big and arched, and they were adorned with colorful shutters that cast dappled shadows across the plank floor. The front porch was spacious and lined with wooden rocking chairs, their cushions faded from the sun and salt air.

Yup, definitely the kind of people who use fancy words like 'chateau' or 'villa'.

"Jesus, how did you find this place?" I gasped, taking in the beauty of the 'villa' as we stepped inside the house. It was like stepping into a magazine cover or something.

"I'm incredible and full of surprises, what can I say?" Rory shrugged as she walked over to the window and pushed open the shutters, letting the warm island breeze waft in. It carried with it the salty tang of the sea and the sweet scent of honeysuckle from the overgrown vines that crawled up the side of the house.

"You know what? I'm sorry for not trusting you. This is the best surprise yet." I grinned at her, putting down my bag on the countertop.

The kitchen was as beautiful as the rest of the house, with dark wood cabinets and marble countertops. There was a large center island made of the same red tile as the roof, and a cozy breakfast nook with a window seat overlooking the backyard. The fridge was already stocked with food and drinks, and the cabinets were filled with dishes and cooking utensils.