Chapter Text
Belly
Stepping off the air conditioned metro felt like a punch in the gut—the shock of the pervasive heat almost winding Belly, leaving her barely able to take a full breath in the dry atmosphere. It didn’t help that she was wrestling with her luggage as they stepped away from the station, the dodgy wheel from her mom’s old, battered, suitcase kept getting stuck and catching on every crack and crater in the sidewalk. The extra effort in the 104 degree heat made her feel dizzy and she was sure it wouldn’t be long before she either passed out or threw up.
“Fuck it’s so hot,” Jeremiah moans. He was always one to state the obvious.
“Okay. How do we get to the harbour?”
“I don’t know Bells, I’ve never been here before.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course! I just meant—” She paused, shaking her head, still groggy from lack of sleep. She shifts her backpack onto one shoulder and clumsily tries to rummage through her bag. “Jere can you hold this a sec?” She says holding out her water bottle for him to take. With her hands now free she kneels down putting her backpack on the scalding ground and searches around in the deep recesses of her bag for her phone.
The flight had been long. Eleven hours from New York to Athens. Belly had sent Jeremiah the details for a different flight months ago but he had kept ‘forgetting’ to book the tickets and when he finally got round to it they had no other option than to get a last minute red eye and her visions of coordinated movie watching and excited talks of what they would do once the arrived went out the window.
Instead, Jeremiah had asked her to switch seats with him, moaning that his long legs would be better suited for the aisle and leaving her stuck in the middle with two men flanking her, legs spread wide forcing her to shrink into her new seat.
While Belly struggled to sleep a wink on the flight—a result of a crying baby and the person behind her kickboxing her seat—Jeremiah managed to fall asleep almost instantaneously during take off, leaving Belly to manage her fear of flying on her own.
She’d also needed to pee. Like a lot. And once Jeremiah was asleep there was better luck in trying to wake the dead, so Belly had been stuck in her seat trying to hold it in for as long as physically possible until she feared she would actually pee herself and had to scramble over his lap to make it to the bathroom in time.
It had been one of the most miserable flights of Belly’s life. Not that she was used to flying—this had been her first international flight and she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to repeat the experience so she was desperate to make the most of their holiday in Europe.
She pulls out her phone, opening the maps app and types in the marina to get directions. It was only a short walk away, they should really be able to see it from where they’re standing. She pulls up the ferry tickets, checking which port the boat would be leaving from and triple checking the time. They only have twenty minutes and she silently berates herself for not factoring in baggage claim and passport control when booking the boat.
Sweat is pooling at her brows at an alarming rate and she’s acutely aware that while the warm and cozy sweatpants set she wore for the overnight flight were a perfect fit the plane it had been a stupid decision to not change out of them at the airport when arriving in a country renowned for its baking summer heat.
Thrusting her phone into her pants pocket and pulling off her hoodie, leaving her in a thin vest, she shoves it into her backpack not caring if it creases. She stands, picking her bag back up and turns to Jeremiah just as he’s tipping the last of her water down his throat, gulping loudly with each swallow.
Great.
“God I needed that!” He says, passing her now empty bottle back to her.
Letting out a small sigh, she plasters a smile on her face and takes the bottle back and shoves it into a side pocket of her bag.
“It says the marina should be straight ahead. Hopefully we’ll find some shade when we get there.”
“Well yeah Belly, I can see the water from here. Where else would the marina be?”
He turns away from her as she just stares on, annoyed, at the back of his head. She reminds herself she’s just frustrated from her lack of sleep, thirst and hunger. She’s obviously not annoyed at her boyfriend.
Jeremiah starts leading the way, walking several steps ahead of Belly with his single bag as she continues to fight with her suitcase on the uneven sidewalk behind him. They continue along as the sidewalk turns into smoking asphalt, the smell of melting tar stinging her nostrils and worsening her nausea from the heat.
They make their way past the street vendors with white plastic lawn chairs scattered on the concrete, sun bleached umbrellas propped next to the carts, to help keep customers out of the scorching midday sun. She longs to stop to get a drink—feels herself salivating at the condensation running down the soda cans sat in front of the holidaymakers sensible enough to stop and rest.
But they continue down, weaving through Piraeus marina as the sun continues to beat down on their backs. She can feel the drops of sweat running down her spine, soaking her vest under her backpack like she is literally melting into a puddle. Her view ahead is distorted by the heatwaves but she can just make out the shelter ahead, right where the ferry will leave from.
“Thank god. We’re nearly there and it should be a lot cooler on the island,” she says with a relieved sigh.
The holiday had been Jeremiah’s idea. One of the many ways he was making up for his indiscretions over spring break to her.
He hadn’t cheated, not really. They had broken up after all and well, they both just had different ways to deal with the grief. How could she fault him in that?
Belly had spent the whole of spring break crying into her pillow in her room—alone, mostly—face constantly blotched and swollen from the never-ending tears. The occasional visits from Anika and Taylor bringing Ben & Jerry’s and chocolate as a cover to check she was still alive, the only break from her self-induced solitude.
At one point Taylor and Anika had teamed up, both trying to tempt her out of her room by making margaritas and watching Beyoncé’s Lemonade. As though the only way she would feel better was to get drunk enough to make her want to go to a bar and hook up with a stranger. But she hadn’t wanted that—she had just wanted Jeremiah back.
The break up playlist did nothing to make her angry at him though, if anything it just made her miss him more. How could she be angry at him when they only broke up over a stupid disagreement about his trip to Cabo. If she hadn’t been such a brat about him going on holiday with his fraternity instead of the plans they had made together then they wouldn’t have broken up at all.
It was all her fault really and she just wanted to see him again so she could apologise for being such a bad girlfriend to him.
That was when the texts had started coming in and she had been so relieved to not only finally hear from him, but to read the absolute longing for her in his messages. To Belly, they read like poetry. She imagined the texts as mini love letters, telling her how much he missed her and how much he loved her. It had made Belly’s heart swell to read such sweet words from him.
Jeremiah was never one to say such things to her openly. When they had first started dating, she had been the one to say ‘I love you’ first and for a while he had only ever responded with a ‘you too’. It had been weeks later when he’d finally said the three words back. That had been the first time anyone had ever said them to her and she had vowed that she was going to do everything in her power to keep Jeremiah happy. She wasn’t going to lose him like she had lost Conrad.
And still, he only ever said ‘I love you’ when they were alone. Even though he had started off as a very affectionate boyfriend that first summer, it soon became obvious that he wasn’t actually one for public displays of affection—especially lately, when she was attending any of the joint fraternity and sorority parties. The only times he would be affectionate in public was when they were around either of their families.
So those texts were prized possessions for Belly. She had ended up screenshotting them and filed them away in a special folder in her photos app, revisiting them when she needed validation—as a way to remember that he really did love her. No matter what anyone else thought.
When they’re finally inside their hotel room Belly only wants two things; Water and a shower. Well, maybe that’s one thing in two ways but regardless, she feels so dehydrated from the mix of the heat and the exertion and she longs to jump in the shower and wash away the dirt and sweat that had accumulated from their long journey.
The hotel is slightly up the hill from the main port and since there are no cars allowed on the island, the hotel had arranged to meet them at the sea-front with donkeys to carry their luggage up the steep steps. Belly and Jeremiah had followed close behind, leg muscles burning from the incline, and the dusty dirt being kicked up sticking to their sweaty skin. She was relieved she didn’t have to make the climb with her bags but she couldn’t help but feel bad for the donkey having to bear the weight instead, while Jeremiah just rolled his eyes at her and muttered something about her being too soft.
Of course she had evidently been too slow on entering the hotel room—Jeremiah quickly brushing past her, barely wheeling his suitcase into the room before stripping off, leaving his discarded clothes on the floor, and stepping into the shower without so much as a word to Belly first.
Okay, I guess I’m going second then.
Belly sighs, and moves further into the room taking in the place they’ll be staying for the next two weeks. It was basic, not wanting to splash out on a fancy hotel, but she didn’t mind that—they were barely going to be in the room when they had a whole island to explore. The room was fairly large, with white painted stone walls and terracotta coloured tiles lining the floor. A double bed with crisp white sheets is pressed against the wall, flanked with two matching bedside tables. Across from the bed is a wardrobe and a small mini fridge with a kettle perched on top and a small TV on the wall.
Please god let there be water.
Praying that there would be something inside, she opens the mini fridge and actually groans with glee when a bottle of freezing cold water greets her. She just stands there for a minute, face pushed inside the fridge door, letting the cold air wash over her and provide her with a small amount of relief. She’s vaguely aware of literal steam emitting from her skin as she finally reaches for the bottle of water and closes the door. She doesn’t even bother with a glass, just guzzles it down, small drops falling down the side of her mouth, down her chin and onto her top and then holds the bottle to her face like an ice pack as she starts fighting with the air conditioning.
Already feeling slightly better, she opens the window to reach the blue-painted wooden shutters covering the view, pushing them to the side and revealing one of the most beautiful sights Belly thinks she’s ever seen.
From where they were perched on the hill, they had a vast view of the whole port. A sea of white painted stone buildings with terracotta coloured rooftops engulf the rock face in a semi-circle around the port, all seemingly built on top of each other on this small area of the island. But it’s not sad and beige—the whole area is awash with colour, from the brilliant fuchsia bougainvilleas and purple Greek valerians growing everywhere, to the classic blue painted shutters and doors making each building look like an individual flag. The port itself is filled with boats—small water-taxis that people use to get to other parts of the island are dotted amongst the larger luxury yachts either owned by or privately chartered by tourists visiting the island.
The smell of the salty sea-air mixes with whatever is being grilled in the restaurants that line the front filling Belly’s nostrils as she leans further out of the open window and even though she hasn’t slept in 36 hours, she is so excited to start exploring this Greek paradise. The smell is making Belly feel so hungry that she feels a little like a cartoon character being tempted by the delicious smell of food in the distance, as though she could float along the sky in pursuit of the smoke tendril weaving its way towards her.
She closes the window to allow the air con to work its magic in the room, puts the water bottle back in the fridge to keep cold for Jere, before getting to work unpacking her suitcase. All she really wants to do is lie face down on the bed and rest, her knee—never fully the same after the ACL surgery she’d had last year—was aching and felt stiff, but the last thing she wants is to get the sheets all dirty. Besides, she knows if she lies on the bed she’ll end up falling asleep and she didn’t want to miss a moment of this holiday.
By the time Jeremiah had finished in the shower, Belly was completely unpacked, all her clothes either neatly hanging in the wardrobe or folded away in the drawers and her empty suitcase was carefully tucked away under the bed. She’d even laid out an outfit she planned to put on after her shower to wear out for dinner this evening on the bed.
Grabbing her toiletry bag and finally stepping into the shower, she lets out a small sigh of pleasure as the cold water works wonders on her slightly swollen hands and feet. She watches on as the reddish dirt washes away down the drain and she takes her time washing away the day’s troubles.
Her shower is long, as all her showers tend to be. It’s something her and Jeremiah constantly bicker about. He can’t understand how someone could possibly spend more than 10 minutes in the shower and she can’t quite explain properly how much she just loves to stand under the spray of water. Like just the feel of the water on her skin was enough to fix her troubles and calm her emotions.
When she does eventually step back into the bedroom, feeling reborn, Jeremiah is face down in the middle of the bed stretched out like a starfish, still wrapped in his towel. His discarded clothes lay exactly where they left them and Belly tries to push down her anger over him getting the bed sheets all wet.
I’m just hungry. I’m just hungry.
“Jere!” She yells, knowing how difficult it is to wake him otherwise.
“Mmm,” he groans out, barely moving an inch.
“No. You can’t sleep now, it’s only 6pm.”
“I’m just gonna have a quick nap.”
His voice is muffled, his face still pressed into the pillow distorting his voice, but she can still hear the pleading tone in his voice and it pulls at her heartstrings a little. It has been such a long journey after all and he did drive them from Finch to New York before their long flight. He had every right to feel tired, even if he did sleep on the plane.
“Come on! You know if you go to sleep you’ll mess up your sleep schedule and you really don’t want to be jet lagged and spoil your holiday.”
“I’ll be fine. I won’t get jet lag. I’m just really tired Bells—worst comes to worst I’ll just sleep on the beach.”
“Please, Jere, it’s our first night in Greece. Just get ready with me and we can get dinner somewhere nice! You were so excited to try the food...”
But he doesn’t respond, the only sound in the room is his slight snore, just audible above the gentle hum of the air con.
For a minute she doesn’t know what to do. She wants to go out and explore the port, have a nice dinner and maybe have a look at the shops along the water front but she doesn’t want to do it alone—scared she’d look pathetic, like everyone would know she’d been abandoned by her boyfriend on the first night of their holiday.
It was so tempting just to climb into bed by his side.
But then her stomach lets out a loud roar and she lets out yet another frustrated sigh—her fifth of the day, not that she was counting of course—as she starts to get ready to go out alone.
The Boston Post
MISSING: US COUPLE DISAPPEAR ON GREEK ISLAND
An American couple have been missing for two days from the Greek island of Hydra, according to local reports.
Jeremiah Fisher, 22, from Boston, and Isabel Conklin, 21, a Philadelphia native, had travelled to the island located off the coast of Athens, on the 20th of June for a two-week holiday to celebrate Isabel’s 21st birthday.
The couple, both students at Finch University, were last seen on the morning of June 23rd as they left to go on a hike to Zourva Lighthouse on a remote part of the island.
Greek authorities have been searching for the young couple, with US officials aware of the case.
Fellow holidaymakers raised the alarm of their disappearance to local police when they had failed to make the prearranged plans to meet for dinner that evening and hadn’t appeared to return to their hotel following their excursion.
Local search efforts have been underway, with volunteers retracing the route they had taken on their hike, but have so far not yielded any evidence of their whereabouts.
Comments from close friends and classmates have been pouring out in support for the childhood sweethearts on their respective social media pages with well-wishers praying for their safe return.