SSS 2 - Damage Control Part 2

Olivia’s feelings are understandable, but the intensity doesn’t last. Yes, it was two months of difficult work and one very stressful night, but now they’re literally **** to be at a resort in Belize, doing nothing. Lying low for a bit is necessary, even if they should be safe here.

It’s not easy to stay angry on a lounger by a crowded pool after several margaritas. Amy knows that she’s burning and that she’ll have lines, but she isn’t about to go inside and leave Olivia lying here, morosely scrolling through Instagram.

“What if she doesn’t go for it?” Olivia asks finally, out of nowhere.

“You mean Meri? Doesn’t matter. No one will understand or believe her if she talks. And we’ve already got the outcome we needed. We created the opportunity. That was our job. Our job isn’t to make her take it. That’s something we can engineer separately in the future if we have to.” Amy shrugs. “We’re fine either way.”

Olivia doesn’t reply right away. She looks over at Amy’s blue bikini.

“That a new suit?” she asks.

“No, Livi.”

“Looks good.”

Amy doesn’t let herself snort or give any sign of how funny it is that this is the only way that Olivia can express herself. That’s Olivia’s idea of an olive branch. It’s cute.

Back in the room, they find Aki immersed to her neck in a bubble bath, eyes closed, perfectly still. Total serenity, as always.

She doesn’t even react when Olivia peels off her bikini bottoms and throws them on Aki’s face with a wet smack.

All dignity, Aki pulls them off and sets them aside.

Olivia is still grumpy. She stands there bottomless, scowling.

“I thought that’s what Japanese people were into,” she says.

“Racism. From a Mexican,” Amy says, shedding her suit. “What did I tell you? We’re innovators.” She smacks Olivia’s round ass and steps into the huge walk-in shower, which has walls tiled with seashells. Olivia enters behind her without a word; they’re both slick with sweat and lotion.

Olivia’s grumpiness is evident from her silence and the almost surly way that she ‘helps’ Amy wash by standing close behind her, caressing her body.

Amy can’t take it. She pulls Olivia’s hands off and turns to face her, placing her hands on Olivia’s wide hips.

“You don’t have to camouflage a hug,” she says, wrapping her arms around the slightly taller girl and squeezing her. After a moment, Olivia’s hands land on her back and they stand together under the water. Amy lays her head on Olivia’s shoulder and smiles, rubbing her back slowly. Sometimes she wishes that Olivia didn’t hold her liquor quite as well. Being a little more buzzed would mellow her out some.

Nothing highlights their differences like their menu choices: Aki, the vegetarian. Olivia, who eats things that contain protein and hardly anything else, and Amy, a normal person who eats food like everyone else. Their sleepwear as well. Amy sleeps in comfort in shorts and an undershirt. Olivia has on a robe that she’ll take off for bed; she always sleeps nude. And Aki looks like someone from a movie in her pristine, oversized white tee.

Amy just needs to keep the team together a little while longer. It’s going to be OK. At least, until they settle on watching HBO on the sofa with their desserts.

“She’s too fucking skinny. Look at her,” Olivia says, appalled. “And she can’t dance.”

“The Asian girl can dance,” Amy counters. This show is over the top with its sex and eroticism, but the only thing that made her feel anything was that girl. “What’s her name? I’m looking her up.”

“She does things with Blackpink,” Aki says. She’s at her end of the sofa with her nose in another book by yet another guy that Amy’s never heard of: John W. Campbell.

“I never got into Blackpink,” Olivia says.

“I’m getting into it now. Why is she not the star of this show? She’s so hot,” Amy says, feeling a nostalgic spark of lust that calls their CCL days to mind.

“No. No. This is bullshit. She’s not hot. The Weeknd is not hot. This is so bad.”

She says that, but she’s still sitting there watching it.

“Is it edgy because she’s naked all the time? Or because of the ****?” Amy asks.

“It’s not edgy. It’s stupid. And she’s too skinny. It would be different if she was hotter. Seriously. For fuck’s sake. Hit a leg press. Like, it doesn’t take that much of a caloric surplus to have an ass,” Olivia rages, shaking her spoon at the TV. “Ridiculous. She’s skinnier than you. Narrow-ass white girl.”

“Who is this based on? Is it based on T Swift? Because she’s skinny.”

“She still has a bod though,” Olivia replies, making a face. “I think it’s supposed to be Britney.” She shakes her head, looking disgusted.

OK, this is not working. Olivia’s bad mood isn’t going away on its own. She’s drunk. More **** will not help, and raising her blood sugar with a sundae hasn’t either. Amy has to take things into her own hands. She leans into Olivia and looks up at her.

“Do I need to cheer you up?”

“Don’t patronize me, Amy.”

Amy is impressed that Olivia knows what that word means. “But if I kiss you right now, you’ll taste like ice cream. Gimme.” She makes kissy lips. “Gimme some sugar.” Rather than waiting, Amy goes in and kisses her neck and collarbone where her robe is open.

But Olivia is not responding. Amy looks up to see Olivia glowering at Aki, who is still reading.

“She’s not watching,” Amy says.

“I know. She’s not watching… sanctimoniously.”

Another big word. Sometimes Amy forgets how smart Olivia is; she’s good with computers too. It’s her fixation on Instagram and having a perfect body that makes her come off differently.

“She doesn’t mind,” Amy assures the drunken Olivia. Aki definitely does not. In fact, she’s been in the room once or twice when Amy and Olivia have gotten carried away. If Aki didn’t like it, she’d have her own room instead of sharing.

“I know,” Olivia says darkly. She is so pissed off.

“What are you thinking?” Amy asks worriedly, watching the way Olivia is staring at Aki.

“I want to do something bad,” Olivia growls. “Since we’re serial killers.”

“Mass murderers,” Aki corrects her absently, turning a page.

Olivia’s teeth grind. “I’ll hold her, Amy. You get her.”