Things with Theo still felt like a bit of a tightrope walk, and I was glad for the lack of alone time. I glanced over at Ana. Her hair was up in a high bun that had grown messier with each passing minute in the bookstore. For once she looked tired. “Where’s Geoffrey?” I asked.
“Walking the streets. He and Mathilde are in an argument and he needed some time to think.” She sighed heavily. “That man. His heart is pure, but what will we do with him?”
“Find him a real ballerina to love?” I suggested.
“Tell him that if he doesn’t produce actual proof of Mathilde within twenty-four hours, he will be forced to read Pride and Prejudice?” Theo said.
I kicked my flip-flops off and set my feet on the ledge. My phone sat in my lap, several unopened text messages from Dax on the screen. He was sending me photos of the bonfire they’d had on the beach last night, but I was too tired to even open them. “Geoffrey doesn’t like Pride and Prejudice?”
Theo lowered his voice, Geoffrey-style. “Too much prejudice and not enough pride. Also, that Mr. Darcy is a pompous jerk and Elizabeth could have done better.”
“Heresy!” Ana said, her energy instantly returning. “Don’t ever let me catch you saying those words again. Now. You two have been working so hard, you should have a night out.”
“I actually have plans with my dad,” I said quickly. “He’s taking me somewhere. I think he said Kamari?” Though I was nervous about another dad-daughter night out, I was glad to have a solid excuse to keep me, Theo, and Santorini’s moonlight out of each other’s company. Whatever awkwardness we agreed not to have between us was still there, as large and inconvenient as a volcano.
“Kamari?” Ana made a few valiant attempts to stuff errant strands of hair back into her topknot, but it only seemed to make things worse. She gave up. “Oh, yes, how nice. It is quite a unique and charming village. But”—she avoided my eyes—“I’m afraid I received a text that he is not feeling well at all. So tonight, I think it would be better if he rests.”
I whirled around to look at her. “He texted you? When?” As far as I could tell, she didn’t have a phone on her, and besides, why would he text Ana and not me?
“Earlier,” she said, producing a bobby pin from her pocket and stabbing it into her hair.
Was that what all the weird energy was at the site today? He’d been trying to figure out a way to tell me he was bailing on me tonight? If so, he could have just told me. Bitterness and sadness and all sorts of unpleasantness began swirling through my chest. Was he really standing me up without telling me? I mean, if he was sick, that was fine. But why couldn’t he tell me himself?
Ana, clearly oblivious to what was going on in my mind, suddenly brightened. “Theo, you will take Liv to Kamari!”
“Um… he doesn’t have to do that,” I said quickly, and Theo let out a loud “Maman!” before rattling off some sort of protest in French. His voice dropped a hair lower in French than it did in English or in Greek, and I hated that I was noticing that. Also, would it hurt him to act like going out with me wouldn’t be the worst thing on earth?
Ana was having none of it. “It is decided. The two of you will go to Kamari, and you will have a wonderful time. I will pack you your dinner.” She jumped to her feet and then she was off in a whirl of perfume, leaving Theo and me in a stunned silence.
“Is your mom setting us up on a date?” I asked, pressing my fingers into my collarbone.
Theo sighed, tucking his hands behind his head. “Yes. Sorry. But if we’re here when Geoffrey gets back, we’re going to have to spend the rest of the night counseling him on his fake relationship while you continue to ignore whoever is texting you.”
My face went red, and I quickly scooped up my dinging phone. More messages from Dax. Why couldn’t I make myself open them?
Theo was right. Whatever awkwardness I had to endure on a coerced date with Theo, it had to be better than sitting around wondering why my dad would invite me all this way just to bail on me.
* * *
I still had no idea what Kamari was, but it must require sandwiches, sodas, and an armload of sweatshirts, all of which Ana provided in no short supply. I think she was a little worried we might not actually go, because she insisted on walking us to the bus stop and then waving to us once we were on board.
The ride wasn’t terrible. The sky had faded to a dusky purple, and the bus was full of tired but contented tourists, all chatting quietly to each other, and before I knew it, we were having a semi-normal conversation while also devouring the food Ana had packed. It was a nice distraction. Before long, Kamari was announced as the next stop.
Kamari turned out to be a town, a pleasantly cluttered beach town. It was stuffed full of open-air restaurants and shops displaying eclectic assortments of bathing suits, snorkel gear, and inflatable pool toys. A long stretch of ocean appeared between buildings, and I caught a glimpse of rows of thatched umbrellas and white lounge chairs.
“Let’s look at the beach first,” Theo said once the bus had let us off. I followed him down to the boardwalk, and we stood at its edge, watching the waves roll in. Instead of sand, there were tiny black pebbles. To our right, a pair of high, pale cliffs overlooked the ocean.
“Well?” Theo asked, gesturing to the beach.
“Well what?” I looked down at all the small volcanic rocks, and suddenly Plato’s words ran through my mind. One kind of stone was white, another black, and a third red.… “Black Beach! Is this it?”
He already had his camera out. “Two birds with one rock, or whatever that American saying is. This isn’t tonight’s plan, but I do need footage.” I stepped aside and let him do his work. But the beach made me think of my dad, and suddenly the uneasy feeling brewing in my chest was magnified. Why hadn’t he canceled our plans himself?
Once Theo had some footage, we turned our backs on the water, and he led me uphill through town alongside a busy road, past buildings and open lots, until we arrived at a red stucco building with no roof. Music blared from inside, and a long line of people stood next to a row of potted plants. Strings of bulb lights lit an outdoor seating area, and a spoof sign of the MGM lion—this time featuring a donkey—hung at the entrance.
I looked up at the posters on the wall. “Is this a movie theater?”
“Better.” After the ticket booth, we followed a short hallway lit with paper lanterns before stepping into a large, open-air space. My breath evaporated. It wasn’t simply a movie theater—it was movie theater heaven. A giant screen stood freely in the perfumed air, surrounded by exotic plants, wire sculptures, colorful lighting, an entire garden of succulents, and rows of freestanding hammock chairs.
I spun around, my heart swelling with excitement. It felt like a collision between Old Hollywood and a tropical island. Big band music played from the speakers up front, and vines with fuchsia flowers crept over the walls. To top it all off, the sky had darkened to a deep midnight blue, and fragments of conversations, mostly in English with a variety of accents, filled the air. There was even a large snack bar featuring what looked like Swiss chocolates and mountains of freshly popped popcorn. My mouth immediately began watering from the smell.