Between Then and Now

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Ryan

I don’t know when conversation has ever been easy for me, but I’m on a roll today. I accompany Bon and her parents to the market in town, bringing them in the “Edward Cullen Volvo,” as Bon calls it.

I’ve never seen her look so distressed before, though. It’s like she’s unleashing a new side of her that only shows when her parents are involved. She’s usually the life of every conversation but she somehow dials down in their presence. Well, I assume it’s because of her parents. But there’s also a chance it’s because of me. And there’s also a chance she’s still not fully recovered from the drowning accident. While I made sure that her vitals were stable and her body was fine, I don’t know how it affected her mentally.

I want so badly to reach out to her and hug all the anxiety out. I sigh, feeling a wave of helplessness. It’s frustrating to see her like this and not know how to make it better.

When we arrive at the market, Tita Evie—her mom—Immediately goes to the fruit stand. “Look at these,” she says, her curiosity piqued as she examines the odd-looking berries. “They’re so unique.” She holds one up in front of her and we can see that the berry is blue, but there’s also a green seed (I think) attached to it. “What is it?” Tita Evie asks the vendor, a small native woman clad in layers and a giant hat to protect herself from the scorching heat.

The vendor steps forward and says, “Those are Arius berries, quite special.”

“What makes them so special?” I ask, leaning in for a closer look .

The vendor nods enthusiastically. “Arius berries are native to this region and are known for their rich flavor and rare nutritional benefits. They have a sweet and tangy taste, and they’re packed with antioxidants. But the real magic is in their history.” She pauses for effect.

And it’s effective because Bon’s dad raises an eyebrow. “History? Do tell.”

The vendor clears her throat and begins. “Legend has it that the Arius berries were discovered centuries ago by a local healer. The berries were said to have extraordinary healing properties and were used to treat various ailments. Over time, they became a symbol of good health and prosperity for our people.”

We all nod incredulously. It’s always fun to learn about the culture of a new place. “Would you like to try some? I have a sample tray right here,” the vendor continues, handing us the tray.

We all agree and pop one in our mouths. She was right. It’s sweet, tangy, and refreshing in a unique way.

“Oh my gosh, this is so good,” Bon says, making a little noise as she bites into it. I don’t know if she noticed it, but I did. And the noise she made was both cute and undeniably alluring. I watch as she gets another berry and eats it, her strawberry-pink lips parting slightly and moving gracefully as she chews.

I have to force myself to look away, knowing that if I spend another second lost in her expression, I might do something impulsive—like kiss her. Or brush my fingers on her lips. And none of those options seem plausible, so I instead turn to the vendor and order a lot of these Arius berries which Bon apparently now labels as “the Superman of berries”. It’s nice to see her slowly returning to her usual, animated self .

We walk along the market, Bon still munching on the fruit. We pass by a stall full of colorful scarves and everyone stops in front of it. Tita Evie loops her arm around Bon and pulls her to the display while Bon’s dad walks to another store to buy some water.

I watch as Bon picks up a pink woven scarf and twirls it around her neck, her movements fluid and graceful. She continues to chat with her mom, and they both burst into laughter about something amusing. Bon strikes another playful pose with the scarf, her laughter infectious even from a distance. Instinctively, I take out my phone to snap a photo of her. I don’t know why I keep doing this, but I feel a strong need to capture Bon’s happiness. Besides, I don't think she has many photos of herself from this trip, as she’s always the one behind the camera.

Suddenly, a wind blows, causing Bon’s pink scarf to fly away with it. It flutters through the air, almost like it’s dancing, before landing near me. I quickly pick it up and hand it back to her.

“The scarf looks great. You should get it,” I say, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Nah, I’m just messing around with my mom,” she replies as she folds the scarf.

“Looks good on you, though.” I grab it from her hands and drape it around her neck again. She rolls her eyes at me, but she doesn’t remove it.

“Everything looks good on me,” she says. Can’t argue with that. “And thanks for the scarf, then.” She winks, then turns away to skip toward her parents, who are now engrossed in a local street show. I chuckle as I go over to the vendor to pay for Bon’s scarf .

“Your girlfriend’s really pretty,” the vendor says as I hand her the bill.

“Oh, she’s–” I’m about to correct her, but then I decide to just let the misconception slide. “Yeah, she really is.” Sue me, but I smile as the vendor comments that we look good together.

We continue on with the rest of the day, strolling in the market, watching street performers, resting under large trees, and trying out local snacks (a personal favorite is uved balls, like meatballs but better).

As the sun is setting, we stop by a stall selling refreshments. Bon orders a concoction of mixed fruits that looks as colorful as it does overwhelming. She laughs when I order a plain banana fruit shake.

“Don’t,” I say as I take a sip. She just chuckles and proceeds to drink her “Tropical Surprise” smoothie. I scrunch my nose as I watch her, and she laughs at me. After she sips, she holds out her cup toward me.

“Judge all you want, Miller, but you should really try this,” she insists, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Normally, I would gag at the sight of it. I prefer simplicity in my food (and in most things in my life, really), but there’s something about the way she’s looking at me right now—her eyes wide with excitement and her smile so irresistible as she dares me to try it out. And again, I find myself giving in, not because I want to, but because it’s Bon, and she makes the idea of saying no seem utterly impossible.

With a sigh of resignation that only Bon can extract from me, I reach for her cup and take a tiny sip.

As the flavor hits my tongue, I grimace. I pull the cup away and swallow, forcing a smile as I hand it back to her. “Terrible. Just terrible. This shouldn’t be up for human consumption,” I say.

I may like Bon, but her food preferences are still out of the question. I turn my back to the man in the stall so as not to offend him as I cough and gag. Bonbon just laughs at me and continues to drink the death potion.

“Should we go for a walk by the beach?” Bon’s dad’s voice pulls me back to the fact that we’re not alone. I glance at Bon to gauge if she’s uncomfortable going to the beach, but she just smiles and insists that we go now to see the sunset.

As we’re walking, her parents make their way toward the shore, but we stay a few feet away. “Ugh, the beach gives me the jitters now,” Bon says as we sit on the sand, far from the shore.

“We don’t have to stay here,” I say, getting ready to get up. She holds my arm and pulls me back to sit down.

“No, I need this. I can’t be scared of the ocean forever.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think you deserve at least some time to wallow in your fear? I know I do.” The image of her lying there while I save her is something that will be etched in my brain forever.

Bon suddenly puts a hand to her forehead and shakes her head. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m terrible,” she says. I look at her, confused, when she continues, “Of course it bothers you too. You were there too. I’m sorry, yeah, we should go.”

“Bon. I’m not scared for myself,” I say, slowly understanding what she’s freaking out about. I’m scared of the ocean, yes. But that’s the least of the concerns here. “I’m scared for you. I don’t want you to go through that again.”

“You say it like you didn’t go through it with me.” She settles back down and looks at me .

“Like I said, I’d do it all over again if I had to. But for your sake, let’s hope I don’t.”

She smiles at me, and we stay that way for a while. She removes her bucket hat and ruffles her hair, which blows in the wind. It’s a gesture so light and simple but it hitches my breath in a way.

“The ocean used to be one of my favorite places, now it just reminds me of…” she trails off.

“Hey,” I say, holding her hand. The electric shock when I hold her is something I’m slowly getting used to. Bon looks up at me, her eyes watery. “You’re allowed to feel that way. It’s normal after what happened. You don’t have to force yourself to face it until you’re ready.”

Bon registers what I said, then she looks at me, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. “I don’t want to be ruled by fear. If I let this scare me away from the ocean, what else will I start avoiding?”

“We’ll take it one step at a time. If today feels too much, we can come back another day. There’s no rush.”

Bon smiles weakly. Her hand is still on mine, and she says, very softly, “You say ‘we’ like we’re a unit.” She chuckles. “We–” she emphasizes, pointing a finger back and forth at the two of us, “only have a week left here.”

“I don’t just mean here, Bonbon.” I pause; I’m sitting cross-legged while Bon is sitting with her legs tucked to the side. She doesn’t restrain me when I pull her hand to place it on my lap. “We’ll work through your fear even when we’re back home.” I hope I don't sound too emotional. Or too cheesy. Or too breezy.

“Why?” she says in an instant.

“What do you mean why?” I retort .

“Why are you doing this for me?”

I should say it’s because she’s my friend. That would be the safe answer. But right now, Bon is looking at me like she already knows the truth. And a part of me–a deluded, selfish part of me–wants to believe that she feels the same way.

I stare at her for a while, her eyes more captivating than I’ve ever noticed before. They’re brown–rich, like the color of chocolate, with tiny flecks of gold that catch the light just right. As I look at her, really look at her, I notice all the small things I’ve always taken for granted: The way she fidgets with her bracelet when she’s nervous, the way her mouth quivers when she speaks, even the way she absentmindedly tucks her hair behind her ear as the wind blows on it and it tousles on her face.

It’s as if I’m seeing her for the first time. I know, it’s dramatic, but that’s what it feels like. The moment I allow myself to feel for her, the feelings only intensify every time I set my eyes on Bon. These little details–things that have always been there–are finally standing out, demanding my attention.

“Hello?” She waves a hand in front of me, and I’m pulled back. I should just tell her. Just blurt it out. Tell her I like her. How hard can it be?

“Because–” I start.

“I’m famished!” Bon’s dad suddenly comes up to us. I didn’t even see him approach. Well, I’m not really paying attention. Everything around Bon is a blur. And it seems it’s the same for her because we both jump at the sudden interruption, and she yanks her hand away from me like she did in the hallway this morning.

Bon opens her mouth to talk but her mom waved her off. “Yeah, yeah, it’s not what it looks like,” Tita Evie says in a mocking tone as she approaches us. Bon just rolls her eyes at her parents.

“Dinner?” I offer it to everyone, and they all agree. I pull Bon up to her feet and she brushes the sand off her skin and her dress. Then, she smiles at me, her eyes bringing a promise that our conversation isn’t over yet.