Milos. Milu. Milo. Love of my life, fire of my loins. I’m speaking literally. You know when you attempt to have sex on the beach but you’re both too sandy but when else are you gonna get the chance to fuck an actual Greek God on a secluded beach on a Cyclades island so you just gotta do it, inevitable yeast infection be damned? When he kissed me, all those pro and cons running through my mind seemed to matter a little less, the stars were so nice after all, and the beach was so quiet and just right, and the kissing was getting more and more heated now, the sound of the waves made the perfect backdrop, and oh god, what made for a better story in the end?
So what the hell. We were both completely nude in a semi-public beach with periodic headlights shining suspiciously close. I turned around and presented my ass to him. Rock n roll.
Friday
Gazing at the turquoise waters from the Terajet, Milos felt as close to paradise as earthly possible after spending 12 hellish hours confined to the shabby airport in Serbia. I had been once before with my ex-boyfriend, but I now return to the island single, awaiting the island’s pleasures.
Vacation mating rules are different than in civilian life. We’re blissfully freed from the usual “will he call me?” fear—here, if you snooze, you will never see them again. And if you do fuck them, you will also probably never see them again. There’s only the here and now, John Anthony and I reminded each other. We were practically feral—after all, this was the so-called land of Dionysus, the bacchanal, the orgies that awaited for those who sought them out. We were let loose on the island, Mckenzie playing along good-naturedly, as she had a boyfriend back home. Is he the first? I thought to myself gazing at the tattooed form sunbathing beneath me on the rocks. We had thrown our stuff at the Airbnb as quickly as we could and drove straight to the first beautiful beach I could find on GoogleMaps—Firopotamos. Tiny boat houses dotted the cove. People were cliff jumping off the rocks into the crystal clear water. On one end, a tiny church rose above it all. We decided to check it out before getting in the water ourselves.
It was here, on the rocks below the church, that I spotted my first potential suitor. I studied his body and bleached blond hair. My ex (a different one) had bleached his hair blond when we went through our second horrible breakup. It was kinda hot.
He rolled over and put his hand on someone else’s ass, previously unseen. It belonged to a hot tattooed blonde girl. I looked away. We can’t win them all.
Later that night, we went to the opposite side of the island to Sirocco, a restaurant known for baking fish in volcanic sand. We brought a bottle of wine while we waited for a table. We commandeered empty beach chairs and listened to the surf crash on the sand. The conversation turned personal, as it does when you spend extended time with people. “How’s acting?” Mckenzie asked.
“I have no clue what I’m doing,” I admitted glumly. “It all feels so meaningless. Just waiting and waiting and waiting.”
“It’ll happen.” She smiled at me warmly.
“Sometimes I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing it all for. What I’m doing in LA.” I was still thinking about the fight I had with him I had while waiting at the airport in Serbia that ended up in hysteric tears. If only somehow the stars could align in the right way, if only something was different, if only I could book a role, if only some god could pluck me out of obscurity and tell me Here, this is what you should do to get everything you want.
“Why are you being so negative?” John Anthony said, flopping down on the chair and swigging his wine. “We’re in Greece!”
“Yeah.” I looked out at the dark ocean. “We’re in Greece.”
Saturday, morning
We started the day at the famous Sarakiniko Beach. White volcanic rocks shaped this beach into an alien landscape, two banks creating a cove where we could dive into the water. On the other side were cliffs, a smaller one and a big one where people jumped off, and swam under a natural bridge into a swimming hole before crawling out, hoping not to be scraped by the rocks in the process.
We began by sitting on the calmer banks to do a spot of sunbathing before attempting to jump. As we settled in, John Anthony pointed out an attractive man on the opposite bank wearing tiny cobalt swim trunks. He was wearing an orange bucket hat that was too wide brimmed to be anything but a capital C, Choice.
“S or G?” He asked.
We all scrutinized him. He seemed to be alone. He wasn’t getting in the water. He was looking around but not in an overly curious way.
“Hard to tell,” I said.
“I vote G,” Mckenzie squinted, studying him.
The man held up a packet of paper and started gesturing and speaking to no one in particular. “Wait—“ I said excitedly.
“I think that’s a script!” John Anthony exclaimed. “Would being an actor be S or G?”
“I feel like G! The hat is too fashion for him to just have thrown it on,” Mckenzie said.
“You should go ask him what he’s memorizing,” I said, and nudged John Anthony.
“Not yet!! It’s too soon,” he lay down on his blanket, suddenly nervous.
“Wait, wait, there’s a woman that’s joining him.” We sat up again, intrigued in the development.
“Shit.” The woman was wearing a lilac bikini. It could very well be over.
“Ugh, are you kidding,” John Anthony groaned.
“Hold on,” said Mckenzie.
We watched them interact. It didn’t seem romantic. “That’s not giving girlfriend,” I declared. “And why would they be on vacation together if he they were both S? A platonic friend vacation? Doesn’t check out.”
“Go swim up to him,” Mckenzie said, wiggling her eyebrows.
“I think they’re leaving,” John Anthony said disappointedly.
But soon enough they passed behind us on the way to the cliff jumping rocks. We looked at each other and scrambled up to follow them. We continued to watch them on the other side.
“Are you gonna jump?” Mckenzie asked me.
“I think we have to do it,” I said, grinning. “Are you coming?” I said to John Anthony.
He shook his head. “You guys go ahead.”
We jumped off the little cliff and laughed when we surfaced. It was thrilling to be in the ocean, no safety net under us, who knows how deep the water went. The water was so blue and so clear. I felt electric.
“I’m going to do the big one,” I said when I climbed out.
“Oof,” said Mckenzie next to me. “I’ll support you from here.”
I walked up to top of the bigger cliff. The waves suddenly looked exponentially smaller, a fortress instead of the friendly cocoon we were just in. There was another girl waiting to jump, weighing the same thing. I gestured at her to go first. She made the same gesture back. “No, you can go.”
I peered beyond the edge once more. “It’s okay, I’ll watch you first.”
We both took a moment to weigh the pros and cons. He crept back into my mind, as he always does. In Hawaii, he was so unafraid, always seeking out the next adventure, jumping into the water when it seemed dangerous, clambering over rocks and vines, diving into huge waves. If he could do it, horrible tiny coward that he was, so could I. I could have more fun. Without him. I could do it. I had to—SPLASH!
The other girl had gone. Her little head popped up below. It was just me now up there. I looked at Mckenzie’s smiling face back in the safety of the little cliff. She gave me a thumbs up.
I walked to the edge. What was I going to do, go back?
I counted to three and leapt off the edge. My body was suspended in midair for what felt like the longest time, then all of a sudden my stomach flew into my chest like when you’re on a rollercoaster. The water slapped my chin and the water rushed up my nose. I bobbed up to the surface and looked back at the cliff. She didn’t look that big from here.
When I climbed out, John Anthony and Mckenzie were talking to the cobalt shorted actor and his lilac bikini’d friend.
“Hi,” I said. They were from Montreal and kind of boring. We left for lunch.
Saturday, afternoon
We sat down at another oceanside restaurant named Medusa. The place was packed, seeming to be the premiere spot on the island for lunch.
“So he was S after all,”John Anthony said glumly.
“Why?!” I asked.
“I complimented on his bracelet—it was like a handwoven friendship bracelet—and he said his EX-GIRLFRIEND made it for him.”
“Ugh!”
“Maybe he’s P,” I shrugged. “It’s Europe.”
“Right,” said John Anthony. “And I’m P too, these days.”
“I feel like we’re all P,” I said.
“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,” Mckenzie laughed and rolled her eyes at me.
John Anthony gestured behind him. “Check that guy out. He’s hot.”
We all looked at the guy he was talking about. He was talking to another table, looming tall before them. His hair was gathered at the base of his neck and he was wearing euro trash shorts, a short of denim cut off with neon green zippers. I pretended he was wearing something else instead. He was, however, wearing little quirky inventor glasses, and behind them the most electric blue eyes I had ever seen in real life. “Oh my god. Hot.”
He turned like he heard us and walked over. “Hello.”
We were shocked he was talking to us for a moment. “Hello,” said John Anthony with a big smile. “Are you our waiter?”
“Yes,” he said smiling back. We fell in love. He was even prettier up close. A stray lock of hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it away. “Can I get you all something to drink?” He had a thick Greek accent.
We looked at each other, smitten. “Um. I’ll get an iced tea,” said Mckenzie.
“Me too,” I said, just to say something.
“We’re ready to order too,” said John Anthony. “If that’s okay.”
He smiled again at us, “Yes, of course.”
“But we might need your help,” I cut in. “What do you suggest?”
He listed off a few dishes. “And make sure you get the octopus cooked in vinegar, not the other one.”
“Oh that’s exactly the one we were thinking of getting,” said Mckenzie, getting a kick out of this. He looked unreal. His skin was golden tan, hair tawny with blond highlights lightened by the sun. He had a bead of sweat rolling down his neck. It looked very delicious.
“Okay, I think that’s good,” he said and smiled down at us once more. Why was he smiling so much? Was he enjoying us blatantly adoring him? Did he like us? I mean, did he like me?
“Can I ask a question?” I blurted.
“Of course.” He looked at me directly in the eyes. It was almost too much to bear.
I struggled to keep my composure. It was almost hard to form thoughts. “Are you from Milos?”
“Yes, I grew up here, but now I live in Paris.”
“No way!” I exclaimed. I smiled flirtatiously. “I’m going to Paris after Greece.” I hadn’t in fact bought any tickets yet, but the thought had popped into my mind that morning.
“Oh, I won’t be there. I will still be here through September,” he frowned, a trace of a wrinkle appearing between his beautiful eyebrows. Damn. Visions of my Parisian tryst evaporated.
“What do you do in Paris?” asked John Anthony, looking up at him.
“I model,” he said. “But I still work here during the summer because I don’t want to do that all the time. It’s not real life.”
We all nodded back at him, grinning like fools. It checked out.
“I must go now, but I will be back to talk when I have two minutes.” He gave us a last glorious smile.
“Okay,” we chirped back.
We looked at each other after he walked away. “OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I clutched my chest.
“Wow,” said John Anthony. “Wow. A MODEL!”
“In PARIS!” I exclaimed. “Guys, I’m sorry. I’m in love with Stavros.”
“I’m dying,” said John Anthony. “You think his name is Stavros?”
“I just feel like he looks like a Stavros,” I said. “What do you think his name is?”
“What are Greek names?” Mckenzie said. “Yorgos?”
“Giannis?”
“Adonis?”
“I don’t care,” I said. “I’ll call him Daddy in bed.”
We collapsed into giggles. The food came—calamari, Greek salad, sardines, zucchini balls, and yes, the octopus in vinegar was delicious. He came back to check on us while John Anthony was in the bathroom. “Okay, I have two minutes now. How is everything?”
“Amazing,” we sang.
“Good,” he said.
“Okay,” I said, taking charge. “We have to know. What’s your name?”
“Well, it’s a bit boring actually. Very common Greek name,” he said. “Stavros.”
“Wait, really?” Mckenzie squealed.
“Your name is actually Stavros?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yes,” he said, confused. “Why are you laughing?”
“You won’t believe this. She guessed your name!!!” Mckenzie said pointing at me.
“I can’t believe it!”
“Ah, really!” He said, going with it. “What are your names?”
We told him. He had a field day with Mckenzie’s name, apparently unheard of by the people on the island. “I have to go,” he said. “I will be back when I have another two minutes.”
John Anthony came back from the bathroom. “You’ll never guess what happened,”
Mckenzie said as soon as he sat down.
“HIS NAME IS STAVROS!!” I practically shouted.
“What!!!” John Anthony bellowed. “Oh my god. I’m learning Greek and I’m officiating the wedding on this island. It’s fate.”
“On Sarakiniko,” I added. “It’s perfect.”
My fiancé came back at the end of the meal. “I have another two minutes.” He flashed another grin. He had to have known, right? After assuring him, yes, yes we loved the food, we loved the island, we were having fun, I realized it was another one of those now or never moments. “So Stavros.”
“Yes,” he said, turning his blue eyes to me once again. I was getting lost in those clear pools once more.
“I just have one more question for you before we go.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Where do the locals go out to drink?” I asked innocently.
“Give me your phone number and I’ll text you the list,” he held out his hand for my phone. I tried to keep my hand from trembling as I handed it over. “I’ll message you after I finish work.”
If only we knew the horrors that wait.
