The island sucked even more than usual. Everyone was still preoccupied with the hurricane, but Regina thought it was about time to move on. It happened and it's over. End of story
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For reasons that didn't bear exploring at this juncture, Alan had taken to wandering the beach. He, too, looked different, if one had an eye for such things. His face was drawn, his movements more languid. He looked as though he hadn't had his morning coffee. Which he hadn't.
"Oh, shut up," Regina said, glaring in his direction. "For your information, these mangoes are in my hair because I actually care about the way I look, unlike you. You might look even worse than the first time I saw you, like you've been hit by a ton of bricks or something."
"Oh, you think you're so clever," she said, starting to get frustrated. "Your wife, I mean. She hates you, probably even more than I hate you, and that's saying something."
"Yeah," Regina said, "and basically what I got out of the conversation was that you're an asshole." Granted, Rosa had been dead for fifteen years or something like that, and then appeared in Alan's life again, but still. Regina wasn't about to give sympathy to him.
"Yeah, I did," Regina replied, "but it was nice to have someone to reinforce that idea." Unfortunately, Regina hadn't seen Rosa in quite a while, which was a shame since Rosa was one of the only people on the island Regina could tolerate. "I mean, someone who goes out of his way to talk to people he doesn't like - that's just messed up." Then again, Regina did the exact same thing, but whatever.
"It makes me feel better," Alan said, "to sit here, ocean a stone's throw away, sun on my face, and think how happy I am not to be you."
This was more or less true. Another advantage of talking to people you disliked was that they rarely cared what you said, and you rarely cared what they thought of it.
"Well, the feeling is mutual," said Regina. "I don't care to be a middle-aged, ugly, mean man," she said, "who is probably really unhappy, so he takes it out on other people."
Having said that a little more fervently than he'd intended, Alan shrugged and allowed his gaze to wander toward the water. "When did you speak to her?"
"God, I know," Regina agreed, almost in a friendly tone. "There is nothing to do here. And, um, I talked to her a couple of times. The last time was just before the hurricane hit."
"Ah." He hadn't seen her. He'd tried--meant--to check on her during the storm, but the compound had been packed beyond capacity and she might've been anywhere.
"You didn't manage to find any parties?" He'd have thought that at least one of the teenagers, gifted with the limitless resourcefulness of that age, would have devised some way to get drunk and wreak havoc.
"Um, I totally did," Regina said, "but there weren't many cute guys there, and the host was a freakin' elf. Not exactly the same as back home," she sighed. "I think I should throw one." She glared at him. "You wouldn't be invited, though."
For reasons that didn't bear exploring at this juncture, Alan had taken to wandering the beach. He, too, looked different, if one had an eye for such things. His face was drawn, his movements more languid. He looked as though he hadn't had his morning coffee. Which he hadn't.
"It isn't your ass," he said musingly.
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The remark stung just a bit. Alan prided himself on a certain degree of diligence when it came to his appearance.
He took a seat in the sand. "You look as though you've suffered a pelting at the hands of a firm but fair audience."
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"Yes, she's a very special woman," he said, sounding more tired than anything else.
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This was more or less true. Another advantage of talking to people you disliked was that they rarely cared what you said, and you rarely cared what they thought of it.
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Having said that a little more fervently than he'd intended, Alan shrugged and allowed his gaze to wander toward the water. "When did you speak to her?"
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"You didn't manage to find any parties?" He'd have thought that at least one of the teenagers, gifted with the limitless resourcefulness of that age, would have devised some way to get drunk and wreak havoc.
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