And once I was finally able to calm my racing head, which sprinted from thoughts of Theo to Dax to my dad, that’s exactly what I did.
* * *
When I woke the next morning, Theo’s bunk was empty, and I was relieved to see the day’s call sheet taped to my bunk. It instructed me to meet at the bus stop. Today we were filming Akrotiri, the archaeological site of the Minoan ruins. I’d been excited to see the ruins, but now I couldn’t rely on Theo to make the day’s social interactions run smoothly. I needed a buffer for my buffer. And that’s when a light bulb went off.
I studied the paper. Archaeological site. Henrik! Was it possible… ? I scrambled for my backpack and dumped the whole thing out, sending pens and notepads flying as I searched for the magazine scrap Henrik had written on, then grabbed my phone.
After showering and deflecting Geoffrey, who wanted to talk about Mathilde’s request for “more emotional space,” I headed out into the stark, hot sun, my backpack heavy on my shoulders.
I hadn’t been to the bus stop since my first day, and I was surprised to realize I could find my own way there easily. It was funny how quickly the village had started to feel familiar, like a shoe that had needed some wearing in. Less than a week ago, it had looked like a blank canvas, an endless maze of white. But now I could see the nuance. Oia was full of its own quirks and charms: crooked doorways, plants growing from tomato cans on windowsills, mounds of cheap snow globes and stuffed donkeys lining shop windows. I was even beginning to distinguish between the different shades of white and recognize some of Oia’s resident dogs.
It made my heart ache a little. Santorini was so baggage-laden for me, I’d never considered I might love it. I quickly shoved the thought and its accompanying feelings away, right in time to see Theo, my dad, and their mountain of gear waiting for me. They were speaking quickly in Greek, and when they turned to look at me, I braced for the onslaught of weirdness from Theo, but to my surprise it was my dad who drew my attention.
“Liv!” He hurried over to take my backpack, an act that was both kind and optimistic. He was already so weighed down with equipment he could stand in for one of the local donkeys.
I squinted at him. “Dad, are you okay?” He was nicely dressed, his hat pushed back on his forehead, but he had deep circles under his eyes, and his skin looked pale. More than that, his energy, which was always dialed too high, was noticeably low.
“I didn’t sleep well,” he admitted. “I think the food on the cruise did not sit well with me.” He nodded toward my backpack. “I hope you brought the old man makeup. I need it today.”
“Are you okay, boss?” Theo asked, his eyes skimming straight over me. “You shouldn’t have to film if you have food poisoning.”
“I’m fine,” my dad insisted, winking at me. “So long as we have the makeup and some coffee, I am fine. Please do not worry so much.”
He didn’t look fine. Theo met my eye worriedly, and we had a quick nonverbal conversation. Should we push back another day? Can we push back another day? The answer to that was no, but Theo gave a little shrug as if to say, Think we can talk him out of this? And the answer to that was Definitely not. Also, communicating this way with Theo did make me feel better. Something unwound inside of me. Yes, we’d almost kissed, but Theo was right. A momentary lapse in judgment didn’t have to be a big deal. We didn’t have to make this awkward. “I’ll do your makeup on the way,” I said, turning back to my dad.
“And, Nico, you rest during the drive,” Theo ordered. “Akrotiri is at least an hour away.”
“Please do not worry,” my dad repeated, putting his arms up in protest.
It turned out that we weren’t taking the bus at all. Yiannis the Walrus was driving us in his cab, evidenced by him suddenly running full speed at us, a cigar in one hand and coffee in the other. “Nico!”
After the customary backslapping and Greek excitement yelling, we stuffed our gear into the trunk. Then the four of us, plus Yiannis’s cigar, loaded up into the cab. To get to Akrotiri, we had to drive all the way down to the literal other end of the island, which would be simple except we were in Santorini, which meant traffic, donkeys wearing colorful harnesses, tourists driving ATVs, and buses swinging out recklessly on the narrow roads.
I never get carsick, but this was pushing me over the edge. Inside the cab, the conditions were even worse. Yiannis smoked the entire way, Theo’s camera kept making an appearance, and I was shakily trying to apply my dad’s makeup, so by the time we stopped in the parking lot in Akrotiri, I was ready to throw up at least three days’ worth of food. My dad looked even worse. Maybe we did have food poisoning.
“Let’s never do that again,” I said, stepping shakily out of the cab. I checked my phone. Still no response from my top secret island contact. I needed him to come through.
“Akrotiri,” my dad announced, taking a moment to collect himself. “This is where the ancient civilization of Minoa lived. Or as I like to call them, the original Atlanteans.”
“That was good. Did you get that on film?” I asked Theo.
“Of course I did.” He hesitated and quickly glanced toward my dad, who was unloading our gear with Yiannis. Theo nervously tugged at his hair, and I could feel the metaphorical wall he was building between us. Yeah, sure. No awkwardness here. The humid air felt fully saturated today, and my heart was clanging around like crazy. “Can we talk for a minute?” he said under his breath.
“Sure. What’s up?” I asked in an obnoxiously chipper voice. Why do I always do that when I’m nervous?
His eyes finally met mine. “I wanted to apologize about last night, the whole pool and… um, hot tub thing. I thought about it some more, and you’re right, it is a big deal. You have a boyfriend, and besides, I really like working with you. It was sort of a mistake.”
Sort of? His eyes were liquid and oh so sincere, and now I was blushing again. “Completely my fault too. We can keep things professional. And friendly,” I added quickly. “Also, it isn’t only that I have a boyfriend. There’s the no long-distance rule, right?”
I don’t know what made me say it. Now I sounded like I was interested, which I definitely wasn’t. Couldn’t be. Theo’s eyes flew up questioningly to mine. They lingered there for a moment before he took a small step back. “Right. So… we’re good?”
“So good.”
I hated myself.
* * *
Unfortunately, we weren’t the only ones interested in the Minoan civilization. There were also about ten tour buses packed full of sunscreen-coated tourists, all waiting in line at the ticket counter. “This is going to be rough,” I said to my still-carsick-looking father.
His eyes shone excitedly from his pale face. “But worth it. This will be important to the film. Can you believe we have a view into ground zero of Atlantis? Or as an Atlantis skeptic would call it, the Bronze Age Aegean civilization?”
He lifted his brows pointedly at me, and I couldn’t help but smile. He was clearly referencing our conversation from the night before, setting my doubt alongside his belief. They seemed a lot more at home together than I’d thought they would. “Any progress on the Asia and Libya issue?”