Denying Dylan | ✔️

(9) "You've had enough, Bea."

I wake up on the morning of New Year's Eve, in the double bed, and immediately wish that I could go back to sleep. I can hear Charlie brewing coffee. Which smells incredible. She came back to the room with it last night after finding it at a small local store in the township. It had great reviews apparently.

The coffee, the sun and the smell of nature outside of my window which is cracked a smidge, are just a few of the reasons that I'm throwing back the sheet and climbing out of bed. Charlie's voice is the reason that I'm considering jumping out of the window and never coming back.

"It's great coffee babe," she chirps. It's her voice reserved just for Dyl. The one that she uses to let him believe that she's a human being and not a demon in disguise. "You should inquire about sourcing it for The Hot Plate. I've never tasted coffee like this before."

I drag my feet on the carpet and stand in front of a circular mirror. There's black goop in the corner of my eyes and my hair has moulded into something that resembles electrocution. My tank top has twisted half way around my body and left a rogue boob hanging out. I spend a minute adjusting myself while Charlie carries on squawking as if no one else might be sleeping.

"I'd quite like to buy a few tins of this to take home. Do you think we can do that? Or does it count as food?"

"Uh," I can imagine the shrug in Dylan's shoulders. "I think coffee is fine. I'm not sure. We'll have to ask."

"You should call the airport for me later. So how about lunch at eleven and then we'll spend time at the beach from twelve thirty until two. And then we'll come back here and get perhaps an hour of sleep in? I think an hour should be fine. After that we'll get dressed and organised to leave at half past four. Dinner at five. We'll head to Hot Water Beach at sev—"

"Woah babe, hang on," Dyl puts a halt to Charlie's militant rambling. Thank God. "That sounds like a good schedule and all but we should go over it with Bea. She might have some ideas about what to do today. We should at least include her."

"No babe," she chuckles. "You misunderstood. I want the two of us to spend the day together. We can meet up with her at Hot Water Beach later."

"Suits me," I slip out of the bedroom and smile, now more presentable than I'd been a minute ago. Dylan stands beside the small kitchen table with his lips parted, as if he'd been about to object. But for once Charlie and I are on the same page. "I'd prefer more than two allocated hours at the beach today. So go ahead and do whatever. I'll find you at Hot Water Beach later."

Charlie's stare narrows for a moment but it soon turns into a triumphant smile. "See," she tells Dyl, who I don't want to look at because he's shirtless and his flannel PJ pants are low on his hips. Instead, I focus on pouring a coffee, taking advantage of the short but sweet moment that Charlie isn't shooting me daggers and radiating threatening vibes towards me.

"Bea, are you sure?" He presses.

"Yeah. I think I might take my camera with me."

It works, of course. I knew it would. Dylan has always put his all into supporting my interests. He saw how much I loved photography. He was the subject of so many of my pictures. Ones that I've got buried in boxes at home. He's spent hours with me, editing and developing photos. He was the one who printed and hand delivered applications to different photography work shops and classes that were held by award winning artists.

He knows what it means, so I'm not surprised when he drops the subject of our day schedule and claps his hands together. "That sounds great. This is the perfect place to get some beautiful shots."

"Is she any good?" Charlie fixes the strap on her sheer maxi dress. All I can see underneath it is a powder pink bikini and a flawless figure.

"Yeah she's incredible with photography," Dyl answers.