The video call was on full display for everyone when Sunny reemerged.
Sejal exclaimed, “Hi!…I’m good! How are you?…It’s been an entire two weeks since we’ve talked!…Look at where we’re at!…Yes, of course, Sunny is right here!”
She’d turned the camera to him, and he waved, albeit confused.
“The entire gang is here! Sam and April, Aamar and Maya.” She went around showing his parents everyone. Except me.
It shouldn’t have bothered me. It didn’t. I was the outsider to their college gang. His parents had no idea I existed, nor should they.
Sejal focused the camera on everyone, one by one, as they returned the greeting with waves and cheers and wishing how they could have made it.
Sunny glanced at me almost apologetically. With my shades on, he couldn’t tell if this bothered me. It didn’t. I wasn’t part of his world or hers or theirs. But as a fake boyfriend, shouldn’t he say something about me?
No, of course not. He wouldn’t want his parents involved in our little charade. Still, there was a touch of isolation and feeling wholly left out when his ex’s current boyfriend was waving back at his parents like he knew them, too.
And just like that, the tendrils of anxiety sprouted at the base of my skull. This small group that I’d been around long enough, who had made me feel welcomed, became a blur. Suddenly, the heat was rising, my shoulders were deflating, and my gut was turning heavy. My brain knew this was nothing to get panicked over, but my body caved to the throes of social anxiety. I was typically prepared to battle it going into a party or a crowd, sometimes even a movie theater or a concert. Other times, the unrelenting slide into obscurity came from nowhere, for no reason, and I wanted to fall through the floor of this boat and let the ocean swallow me.
“Yes! Let’s get a picture!” Sejal exclaimed.
She faced me, holding the phone out to capture everyone smiling behind her.
“Wait! What about Bhanu!” April exclaimed.
“No, don’t pressure her,” Sunny said as I shook my head and waved them off and even flashed a smile, despite resisting the urge to escape into a corner.
I didn’t want this lie encapsulated in any of these wedding memories, much less to meet Sunny’s parents this way. Fortunately, the call ended shortly afterward, when it was time to snorkel. I gulped water in an effort to chase off anxiety before it became a full panic attack, and I offered to be the unofficial photographer to, one, have something to do; two, avoid being in said pictures; and three, not get roped into getting into the water.
Besides, taking pictures of a happy couple and cheerful friends was fun. It focused my thoughts and actions, allowing me to gather full control over any lingering bits of anxiety.
Sunny was quietly watching me when he walked toward me. He didn’t touch me, and I was surprised by how much I wanted his hand on my waist, a reassurance and grounding. How strange. While I didn’t like most people touching me, I’d never been bothered by Sunny’s touch.
His brows were narrowed, worried, and I immediately told him, “No heat exhaustion. It’s early enough in the day and plenty of shade and water. I promise.”
His look of concern didn’t wane. “Is there something else that’s wrong?”
“No,” I replied with a smile, neither wanting to share nor wanting to dampen his fun. “Go! Stop using me as an excuse not to party.”
“Okay. Just…tell me if something is wrong.”
I nodded and off he went, but only after Aamar had yelled for him.
I snapped shots of the bubbly—best to be served after water activities—and of everyone getting ready with gear, hugs, and sneak kisses, peace signs, heart signs, and everything under the sun when I noticed Sejal slurping the last of her iced coffee.
She had brought a Starbucks drink onboard, one of the few places on island still phasing out plastic straws. When she pulled the straw out to lick a remnant of whipped cream at the bottom, it slipped from her hand and fell into the water. My heart dropped as I lurched for the straw. My body nearly dangled over the edge before Sunny grabbed my waist and hoisted me back.
“Whoa. Are you okay?” he asked.
Sunny had my back flush against his chest, an arm around me as if I were trying to jump overboard into a frenzy of sharks. He peered over the edge. “What did you lose?”
“Oh, it’s just a straw,” Sejal replied.
“That could hurt an animal,” I corrected her.
“Don’t worry about it.” Sejal waved us off and sashayed away.
I bit back my words, pressing my lips together, but no amount of tension could ease the fumes sprouting out of my nostrils. I’d helped Diya and Kimo on many of their eco-volunteering passes. I’d already loved honu, but once I saw Kimo pull out a bloody straw from one’s nostril, watching helplessly as the turtle yawned in pain, in quiet screams, I’d never loved an animal so much. Every plastic straw gave me flashbacks of that sea turtle.
“You’re shaking. Are you sure you’re okay?” Sunny asked, still holding me like I might jump over.
I dragged in a breath and pushed him off. “It’s not just a straw.”
I walked away when I could no longer see that clear piece of deadly plastic floating around. Ooh, the confined rage. I wanted to curse Sejal out so badly, but I didn’t want to make a scene. These weren’t people in passing on a beach where I could tell them to leave honu alone like the signs said as I walked by.
Sunny approached me, touching my arm, letting his hand slip down to my wrist. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing,” I grumbled.
“Don’t do that. You’re going to be in a corner fuming over some shit no one knows about.”
“Oh? Would that exasperate you? Embarrass you?”
“No,” he said pointedly. “I don’t want you having a bad time here, not when I dragged you along.”
“As if you really care?”
“I mean, you started this domino effect, but yes. It would weigh heavily on my conscience.”
“It’ll pass.”
