I once asked her if Dad was part of her plan, and she said that plans are for buildings, not people, but that’s not what I’d meant.
THE BOOKSTORE’S BATHROOM WAS ANOTHER surprise, mostly because it was housed in an underground cave. To get to it, Ana led me out the bookstore’s sunken entrance and through another door built directly into the rock under Oia’s main street. Inside, the cave was divided into two sections: One was a walled-off bathroom featuring a tiny sink and shower, a toilet, and a maddeningly small mirror. The other section was storage, stacked high with crates full of books and flyers.
The shower was really an overactive spigot sticking out of the wall, and using it required choosing which part of your body you wanted pummeled while you contorted in acrobatic positions. But a shower is a shower. I stepped out feeling on top of my game again. So what if I’d sobbed uncontrollably my first night in Oia? That didn’t mean I couldn’t have this whole situation under control.
I scrubbed every inch of makeup off my face, then did my best to check out my face in the mirror. My eyes were a bit swollen, and I had deep circles under them, but overall, not bad. Theo still wasn’t back with my suitcase, so I grabbed the pajamas Ana had left outside the bathroom door and slipped them on. They were gorgeous lace-trimmed shorts and a matching tank made of a buttery soft fabric, and I relished the feeling of the night air on my bare arms and legs as I crossed out of the cave and back into the bookstore.
Ana or my dad had propped open the window in the bunk room, and I stretched out on top of my covers, extending my arms over my head until I filled up the entire space. It felt so cozy and hidden up here, like a tree house or a submarine. Julius would trade his best nunchucks for a night in this place.
Thinking of Julius instantly made me think of Dax, and my stomach turned. He must have texted me back by now. My dad had left my backpack and the box of oil pastels propped up on my set of shelves, and I scrabbled through my backpack, finally locating my phone at the bottom of all my things. I had a text from James’s phone. LIV ITS JULIUS IT IS OK TO LOSE TO OPPONENT BUT NOT OK TO LOSE TO FEAR. Then about thirty emojis, mostly ninjas.
Surprisingly relevant.
But from Dax? Nothing. So, like the Queen of All That Is Pathetic, I wrote to him again. Made it to Oia!!! Talk soon?
Ugh.
Looking at all those exclamation points made me want to throw myself into the depths of Ammoudi Bay. I texted Julius back, I MISS MY NINJA, then looked around, my eye snagging on the maps on Theo’s walls. I tumbled forward on my bed, trying to get a good look. There were several, but the main one was a colorful map of the world, with cities and countries marked with pushpins. A series of sticky notes surrounded the tattered edges, and each had a number plus a string attached to one of the cities. It must be a plan of some sort.
I was preparing to jump the gap to get a closer look when the door below me opened, and Theo’s voice stopped me mid-crouch. “Olive?”
Busted. I tumbled back onto my bed. “Up here,” I said, cringing at how perky my voice sounded. “Are you coming up?”
His footsteps made their way to the ladder. “That depends. Are you going to cry again?”
I was prepared to hit him with a snarky comment, or at least one of my pillows, but luckily, a piece of the Sunshine Cake suddenly appeared at my eye level, set on a white plate with a small fork, followed by Theo’s smiling face. “Joking. I know that was a train wreck up there, but you want a piece of this cake. Believe me.”
I deeply resented the train wreck bit, but I also deeply wanted the cake, so I took the plate from him. Theo finished climbing up the ladder, carrying his own slice of cake, then settled cross-legged, his back to the wall. And then he looked at me. Stared at me. Which would have been terribly uncomfortable, except I had the cake to keep me busy. I took a bite, involuntarily closing my eyes. Sunshine Cake had always been delicious, but Bapou had managed to elevate it to the next level. It was bright and buttery, with a hint of cinnamon in each melting bit. It made up for a lot of today.
I opened my eyes to see Theo smiling at me. “Good?”
“Anyone ever tell you that your Bapou is a genius?”
His smile deepened. “Everyone. He’s the best baker in Santorini. He may not remember how to take his medication or pay his electric bill, but he can bake any Greek pastry you can think of without having to look at a recipe. It’s a miracle. All your dad had to do was describe the cake, and he made this. Well, this and six other test cakes. Your dad really wanted to get it right, and we all agreed that this was the best version.”
Six other test cakes?
He was still staring at me. Studying me. Like if he looked long enough, he might figure something out. My cheeks suddenly felt warm, which meant my rosy splotches were starting to appear—the ones I got whenever I was embarrassed. I dropped my head and took another bite before gesturing to the bunks. “I invaded your space.”
“Huh?” He was still staring.
I pointed to the bunks with my fork. “Your mom said you like the peace and quiet of the bunks; me being here will ruin that. I invaded your space.”
He grinned, his arms folded smugly over his chest. “Aggressive. Olive the Conqueror has invaded.”
“Liv.” I threw my pillow at him and he caught it with one hand, then tossed it back.
“I don’t mind sharing the bookstore bunks with you. But I do have a question.”
His voice was serious, and I stabbed my cake nervously. “… Okay.”
A line appeared between his eyebrows and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What’s the problem with you and your dad?”
I nearly choked on the cake in my mouth. “What do you mean?”
“Your dad has always talked like you two were very close. But it seems like you don’t know a lot about each other. I thought you’d at least know about the bookstore. And then at the birthday party…” He made his hand into an airplane and then crashed it into the bed.
I grimaced. That was about right. But didn’t Theo know you were supposed to avoid talking about people’s awkward situations? I folded my arms tightly across my chest, a self-conscious version of his posture. “That’s pretty personal. Not sure I know you well enough to talk about that.”
A smile broke over his face and he sat up, gesturing to the tiny space between bunks. “I think we’re past politeness. Might as well get to know each other fast, right? I mean, you’re wearing my mom’s pajamas.”
He had a point. A very strong point. Also, it had felt so good to talk to Henrik on the flight over; how would it feel to talk about the situation with someone who actually knew my father?
I exhaled. “Fine. I haven’t seen my dad since I was eight.”
“Why not?” He leaned forward again, elbows on knees, chin in hands.
Theo’s gaze felt worse than his camera. I quickly averted my eyes, staring at the open window. “Because he abandoned my mom and me so he could look for Atlantis.”
“Abandoned” wasn’t my word. It was James’s word. I’d overheard him say it to a colleague once. It had stung, but sometimes that’s what the truth does. Hurts.
I waited for the word to do its magic. People usually get this horrible pitying look, or start scrambling for something comforting to say, but not Theo. Similar to Henrik, when I mentioned my personal drama, he didn’t even look uncomfortable. Rather, Theo had the nerve to seem intrigued. “Who told you he left you for Atlantis?”