Up ahead was a large stretch of white sand. Because of the strong winds, it didn't take long for us to arrive at our destination. Simon steered the sailboat into the bay, while I guided myself along the lines to join him.

"Where are we?" I asked, as he lowered the sails. The boat floated freely until he released the anchor, dropping it only a few feet before it reached the shallow ocean floor.

"Rendezvous Bay Beach," he said. "Don't tell me you've not heard of it."

"Well, I've heard of it. I've just never been here."

"So is the case with most people. That's because it's difficult to reach. It's either a long hike or a rough dirt road to get here by land. But by boat, it's easy."

"Yeah, rough doesn't describe my family."

He laughed lightly as he glanced around. "That's why I like it here--I mean, because hardly anyone comes here."

The curved inlet was peaceful. My eyes trailed along the land, following the deserted beach that reached far on both sides to meet rocky cliffs jutting out of the water. Green vegetation met abruptly at the edge of the sand and stretched back into rolling hills to create a thick jungle expanse. The best part, however, was that there wasn't a soul in sight. Even from the boat, I failed to see any homes in the distance. It was just Simon and me, stranded on a secluded island in the middle of nowhere. If only that were the case.

"Come on, let's check it out," he said.

Without further ado, he took off his shirt and threw it aside before jumping into the water. Having already abandoned my sarong in the cockpit, I followed after and dove in. Simon was nearly halfway to the shore when I surfaced, so I picked up my speed. As I climbed out of the ocean, Simon plopped down on the soft sand and shook the water from his hair before turning to me. I smiled as I sat beside him, observing the glistening droplets on his warm skin and in his darkened wet hair. He was something in the sunlight.

However, that sunlight could only last so long before it had to fade. The afternoon hours flew by faster than we anticipated, but our misjudgment of time was to be expected. We had lost ourselves in our little paradise, undisturbed by others to lie on the beach in each other's arms. We only parted when the light started turning into a crisp orange hue.

With one final tender kiss on my lips, Simon said, "We should go home," before lifting himself up, rising to his feet and giving me his hand. And so we did, quietly swimming back to the boat and climbing aboard. Simon's demeanor had changed since earlier in the day as if he floated about in a daze while calmly setting sail. But I was feeling it just as well. I peered longingly at the beach as it grew further away, the faint caress of his lips still lingering on mine. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I found myself plagued by chaotic thoughts--what was I doing?--should we dare continue this affair?--aside from the passion, were we truly compatible?--was it practical?--what about Thomas? But I didn't allow them time to sink in and instead, distracted myself with Simon at the wheel.

"I was thinking," he began as I approached, "I'd like to buy you a drink."

"A drink?" I laughed.

"Yeah, I know a good place right on the beach. I thought it'd be a nice way to end a perfect day and I want to treat you to something. I mean, it doesn't get much bet'ter when you have a good cocktail in one hand and a girl in the other." He winked before giving me a cheesy grin.

"I didn't know you were the cocktail type."

"Oh, I'm full of surprises," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

After we sailed into port and docked, Simon released the lines. The sails hung loosely as he jumped onto the landing stage and secured the boat to the dock post. Then he guided the mainsail down across the boom and wrapped it, before quickly untying and folding the jib. He gave everything a final check and walked over to me, taking my hand as we made our way down the dock.

The beach was only a short distance away and as we drew closer, the nightlife from bars and restaurants lining the boardwalk's edge welcomed us. Lively chatter could be heard coming from inside and out, mingling with faint folk music floating through the air. Simon led me over to a small, ragged building complete with an outdoor bar. It looked like it had seen many days of harsh coastal weather but its location and view made up for it. Several bar stools stretched along the counter, allowing for a good vantage of the patrons, beach and sunset from behind. The sunlight was growing dim as Simon and I sat at the bar just below the dangling colorful lights.

"Hey, Simon," came a sing-song Caribbean accent. "How's it goin'? Well, who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"Hey, Hosea. This is Kathy."

"Nice you meet you, Kathy," Hosea said, as I responded with a small hello. Then he turned to Simon and leaned closer. "You'll have to fill me in. Where'd you find her?"

"Well, we sort of caught each other's eye across the beach. We met just a few days ago."

"Ah!" Hosea said, raising his eyebrows. "What can I get for you and the lady today?"

"Two of the usual, please."

"And only the best--coming right up."

While Hosea busied himself with mixing the drinks, Simon turned to me and smiled with a slight shrug. Then he faced the sunset, the remaining sunbeams falling to rest in his golden hair. He slipped an arm around my waist nonchalantly and laid his hand against my hip. Together, we sat in silence and watched the scene around us. Several people reclined on the beach, though most spent their time trekking back and forth between the bar and their blankets on the sand. Others sauntered by on the boardwalk, either on their way to a restaurant or to find another bar. In a couple of minutes, Hosea poured our cocktails into tall stemmed glasses. A vibrant red and orange filled to the top, garnished with a sprig of flower petals and a slice of mango.

"Your Beachside Sunset in a cocktail glass made with the very best English Harbour rum," Hosea said, smiling broadly.

We thanked him and Simon handed me my cocktail, observing me intently over the rim of his glass while I took my first sip. The burn of the alcohol immediately fell upon my tongue and warmed my throat. However, the moment was forgotten as the sweetness of the fruit overcame my taste buds. The only remaining indication of alcohol quickly became the looseness I felt growing in my head. He must have poured in a lot of rum but then again, this was Antigua. Before I knew it, our glasses were empty.

"How about another?" I said, smiling.

Simon creased his eyebrows and returned the smile, amused to see me buzzed. It wasn't often I drank, anyway. "You should be get'ting home," he said. Despite the frown I gave him, he continued, "I don't want your family worrying about you--or you get'ting home plastered--or not get'ting home a'tall."

"I wouldn't get plastered," I protested. "But I suppose you're right. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"What happens tomorrow?"

"Doesn't matter to me."

"How about I show you around the island? I mean, I'll take you to all the local places. Maybe there's something you haven't discovered yet."

"Sure, that sounds great." I grinned as we stepped off the stools. Simon placed some money on the counter, receiving a smile and wave from Hosea, and we strolled away from the bar. Standing in the grey light of a sunset passed, I kissed Simon and bid him goodnight.

During the walk home, my light-headedness began to wear off and sobering thoughts took place of the alcohol. My family knew where I had been and I prepared myself for their disapproving looks and whispers behind my back. However, the scene I entered upon was absent of tension. My uncle was his usual jolly self and my father laughed along with him about whatever they discussed. Even my aunt smiled at her husband, but when she turned to me, her face changed. Reminded of my existence, she grew quiet, unable to hide her emotions even behind a tall, cocktail glass. But I wasn't fazed by her. Maybe I would get off easy since everyone was in a good mood. Perhaps they were warming up to the idea of Simon and me seeing each other.

"Well, there's Kathy," my father announced. Then he shifted to a tone that sounded like a mix between authority and sarcasm. "We were starting to wonder if you'd ever return home."

"Kathy, it's nearly eight o'clock," my mother said, stepping out from the kitchen and approaching me. "You had us worried."

"Everything's fine, Mom."

"Do I smell alcohol on you? Have you been out drinking?"

"Well, yes," I fumbled, recognizing my family's sudden discomfort. Apparently, going out for a drink was a new idea to them. It wasn't okay unless it was at a business function with supervising adults.

"Goodness, Kathy--out drinking with a boy. Here we are worrying--it's nearly dark out--and this is how you're spending your time. What next?"

I scoffed lightly. "It was just one drink. Simon wanted to buy me one real quick before I came home. That's all."

"That's where it starts," she said. "Dinner has been waiting. We will talk about this later."

And so dinner commenced, as the family gathered around the table. It passed by quietly as if it was merely a duty to fill our stomachs. At least that was how it felt for most of us at the table, especially me. It was an unenjoyable time and I found myself increasingly eager to finish so we could get the punishment over.

By some unspoken agreement, it had been decided that my mother and aunt sit down to discuss the apparent issue at hand. The others conveniently left to sit outside in the backyard, leaving the three of us alone in the living room.

"Who exactly is this boy you've been seeing?" my mother began.

"Well, he's not anyone we know," I said. "Of course, you know that. I just met him on the dock the other day and we got to talking about his sailboat like I told you. And it went from there."

"What's his name?"

"Simon Le Bon."

"So he's French?" my aunt said, perking up with curiosity.

"No, he's English."

"Well, that explains the accent, of course. Does he have family in England?"

"I don't know, actually," I said, receiving a muffled sound of distress from my aunt as she averted her gaze. "He mentioned his father once but he lives here with his uncle."

"That's all you know about him?" my mother said.

"Well, so far, yes. What is the point of all this, anyway?"

"Kathy, we're just worried about you. We don't want you getting involved with some stranger you know nothing about."

"Yes," my aunt said with a nod.

"So you immediately don't like him just because he isn't one of us and part of our little social circle?"

"Well..."

"Exactly," my aunt interrupted, glancing at my mother's annoyed expression. "Kathy, we just want to know what this is all about."

"Know what?"

"Don't play dumb. You've been going out with him every afternoon."

"It's only been two times," I said, laughing in exasperation. "Fine. If you must know...I like him--and he likes me."

"Has he tried to have his way with you?"

"Judy!" "No!" my mother and I exclaimed, respectively.

"Has he kissed you, then?"

I paused and dropped my gaze. "Yes."

"Oh, dear," my aunt said, placing a hand on her cheek.

"Well, what's it to you, anyway? Why do you care so much about my love life?"

"Because I'm trying to hold up our family name," my aunt said, straightening her posture. "Seem to be the only one in this family honoring that responsibility. I saw that boy when he came here, and I'm not impressed. I don't see why you would want to be with someone like--well, like that. Of course, I see your initial attraction to him. He has a pleasant face and any young girl would be charmed by that accent but honey, you need to think of your future."

I scoffed and stood up, putting my hands out before me in utter disbelief. "Just let me worry about that for once. There's such a thing as love but I'm not sure you know anything about it."

She gaped at me. "Is that what this is, then?"

"I don't know yet. But I know it's better than anything the boys back at home, including Thomas, could or have ever given me."

Without another word, I departed and rushed into my bedroom, closing the door behind me.

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Thank you for reading! :)