Today has been one of those wonderfully depressing days. My oh-so-mature response has been to come and sit out on the beach in the dark by myself for wallowing purposes, but at this point I'm beyond being mature. In fact, I'm not sure it is such an immature response anyway. I defy anybody not to object to the fact that suddenly their life choices are all being taken over by people who aren't them. I am the High Ruler of me, God damn it. I am Her Royal Eminence Highness Majesty Queen of Me.

This thing with Mike seems to have snowballed at an incredible rate. They're already planning no less than two trips to London for him for interviews. He has itineraries and flight details and hotel stuff thrown all over the living room, and he keeps asking me for interview tips because he hasn't had an interview in forever. He must have printed off every interview advice website he could find. Mike should worry less, there is almost no way that they're not hiring him… and I have to admit it panics me a little bit. I would try not to read so much into it, but they're not exactly playing hard to get. I'm happy for my brother, the more I hear the more this sounds like a great opportunity for him, but suddenly the decision I thought I had lots of time to gently mull over is being thrust upon me at light speed.

What doesn't help is that everybody has decided for me that it would be perfect if Antonio moved in to take Mike's place. They all think this is a fabulous idea since he needs to move out of his parents' place and we get on oh SO well (nudge wink) and it would just be perfect for us. Excuse me? Do I not get a say in this since it's MY house? It's really irritating; I wish they'd stop trying to force us together. I like Antonio, but I don't even want to date him let alone live with him. The guy is a slob. They're always pushing us to sit together at meals and always conspiring to make sure I'm walking next to him at the back of the group so we can be alone or whatever and they are so transparent it's not even funny at this point.

They need to stop. Suggestions are always welcomed, really, sometimes advice is good, but I'm not even sure I want to stick around myself. Thinking on whom I'd live with is getting a little ahead of me when I'm not definitely staying. I'm scared shitless of the idea of moving to yet another foreign country, but seeing Mike so happy and excited for a new prospect kind of has me thinking that maybe I should stop being so chicken. I still have all the papers and applications and stuff and the deadline is pretty late since they often have an imbalance of teachers who want to swap out and teachers who want to swap into their particular spot. Besides, an exchange doesn't seem quite as permanent as what Mike's doing, so at least I could always run back here if it did all go wrong.

I just… I don't know. I thought I was going to have more time to think this through. I admit I'm kind of curious to see somewhere new, but I really do love my little slice of Adoran heaven and it's going to take something massive to make me leave it even for a little while. I guess I just need to work out how worth it this exchange would be to me, monetarily and spiritually. While fending off my friends who are already offering to help Antonio pack.

"Hey, what are you doing out here so late?"

I can't believe I didn't hear him approach, but Justin's walking up to me. It's pretty dark out here; the only light is coming from the house and the moon, so I can barely make out his face. The shadows make him look all brooding and mysterious, kind of Heathcliff without the psychotic asshole aspects.

"I live here. What are you doing out here so late stranger?" I tease him. "I was beginning to think you'd gone home without saying goodbye."

Mr Timberlake has been missing in action for two days. I actually knew he wasn't gone because Carlotta said he hadn't checked out, but he did seem to have crawled into a hole or something. Since we started hanging out he's been by every day, even if only for ten minutes or something. It's been really cool; I'm not usually so open and welcoming to strangers but he's very easy to get along with, he's very laid back. I get the impression maybe Justin's not such a laid back character at home so it seems Adora has been good for him. From what he says about his job he sounds like a workaholic.

"I've been having insomnia and thus I've spent most of my days sleeping." He pulls a face at me as he takes a seat next to me in the sand. "I woke up at one in the afternoon today and have been running and doing every physical activity I can think of to wear me out fast. This was my last stroll before bed time."

"And are you tired?"

"My feet are killing me; don't know if that'll put me to sleep though. So how you been, little lady?" He claps a friendly hand briefly on my knee.

"Ugh." I pull a face. "Having dilemmas about whether to go on this exchange or not and otherwise being bored. I'm almost ready for school to start back up again."

"I'll swap you for the massive guilt trip I had after I finally answered one of my mom's emails and she sent one back panicking about me. I thought me sending her a note would reassure her that I wasn't dead or something, not set her off."

"Nice," I say sarcastically, "but I think I'll pass."

"So you often sit out here this late?" He asks as he pushes his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and stretches his legs out in front of him.

"Not often, but enough. I like the sound of the water."

"I can't believe how clear the sky is," Justin says as he looks up. "In LA you never see any stars, they're all hidden behind the smog and shit."

Well… strike one for LA then, if I do go on this exchange. If I do take the plunge, I've narrowed it down to Los Angeles and to New York. Call me a cliché if you want to but all those random US towns in the middle didn't mean much to me, whereas at least in LA or NYC I know there'd be a ton of stuff to do. I have a feeling New York would probably have more sarcastic people like moi in it but maybe LA would have more home-like weather. Of course when I say home-like I mean Adora not wet and rainy England. Then again… wouldn't New York have pretty bad smog too, seeing that it's so busy? I must go look these things up.

"What's LA like?" I ask him. A little fact finding wouldn't go amiss, and he is a resident after all. A shadow seems to pass over his face, but I'm wondering if maybe it was a literal one and not the deep dark secret my overactive imagination wants to sense.

He begins to chuckle, a strange one somewhere between irony and amusement. "It's, umm… interesting. It's hard to describe to anybody who hasn't been there."

"Try."

"Umm… busy. Always something to do. A lot of people like to focus on looks and appearance too much, but you can just kind of ignore 'em. It's more laid back than somewhere like New York where everyone's moving at warp speed, but compared to somewhere like here it's… well, fast paced. There are some really cool spots and places to go though."

That was unhelpful. Not in the sense that it was a bad answer, but in the sense that I'm unsure whether somewhere faster paced would be a good change or a huge culture shock. Maybe it'd be both, I don't know. Addy Elliott as I know her is so laid back she's almost horizontal, I don't know who she'd be if she got caught up in that scene. The fact that I'm referring to myself in the third person even thinking about it cannot be a good thing. Isn't referring to yourself in the third person supposed to be a sign of madness, along with looking for hair on your toes? Or was that talking to yourself, because I do that too.

"Hmm." Witness the extreme and almost impressive brevity of my response.

It was a conversation killer, because for the next few minutes or so we both stare out at the barely visible horizon. Occasionally I take a glance back at Justin, and idly I wonder what all his tattoos are for. Remind me to ask him when we're in better light and I can see more. Thinking about LA and what I'd be like there again makes me wonder who Justin is when he's at home. For all the melancholy and confusion he talks to me about, he just shows no sign of it. He smiles more than he frowns, he's active, he's funny and apart from his refusal to leave the town he's been pretty sociable and friendly; these are not traditional symptoms of depression. Someone shrewd might ask if that's because he's more chilled out here or just because he's used to swallowing bad moods and acting like he's fine.

I don't know why I even think about it, maybe I'm just a nosy broad, but the more time I spend with him the more I wonder who he is. The other reason I'm usually so wary of tourists is that even the most well intentioned person in the world is not the same on vacation in foreign territory as they are at home. People will do things on vacation they'd never think of back home - sometimes in good ways, sometimes in bad. I've seen chicks who are clearly good little girls at home go wild, and I've seen stuffy repressed types loosen up and start conga lines or the Macarena. As well as you get to know somebody while they're on holiday, if you went and visited them at home you could find a slightly different person or a completely different person, you just never know.

I wonder if this is the real Justin letting loose when out from under the pressure or if this is just him pretending to be someone else for a few weeks to get away from his life. You can never tell.

"So what do you think you'll wind up doing?" Justin asks me when he can't stand the silence any more.

"I don't know. I think I do need to get off this island for a while at some point but I'm not sure if now is the time. Guess it depends on how brave I feel."

"Heh. I hear that." His voice trails off quietly.

"That how you feel about going home? You need to feel braver? Because I'm afraid the only courage I can provide is the Dutch kind and they don't let people fly drunk."

It was a bad joke that I only made to cover up some awkwardness, but he's polite enough to give that a chuckle too.

"After I got my mom's email I did think about going straight back, but I don't feel any more insightful about shit than I did when I got here. So I figure if I can't work anything out at least I can relax a little more and maybe it'll make it easier to work out when I do go home; I think maybe a couple of weeks max though, I've probably been here too long already."

"Ah. People always fall in love with it here and never want to leave."

"I can see why. Fresh fruit in the morning, sun, waves, nice people, practically zero social problems, nobody bugging you for time… I could so live here if I could sit still long enough."

"Heh. I knew it."

"Knew what?" I get an eyebrow arched in my direction.

"I had you figured for the type who works a lot."

He heaves a sigh. "That's me. Always gotta be doing something."

I stretch my arms over my head and then hug my knees to my chest. "Well you came to the right spot. Nobody around here could be like that if they tried, the place just doesn't let you."

"Yeah, it's good for the soul. Still, there's something to be said for being busy and productive."

"Definitely… so long as you enjoy it." Okay, I admit it, I'm fishing. I'm manipulative like that.

"So long as you do." He nods and goes quiet again for a moment before continuing. "My mom always said that. Like, through my life, anything I wanted to do with like activities or after school stuff or whatever she always said that she'd support me with anything so long as it was fun. Same with the career stuff, too."

"So when'd it stop being fun?" I ask softly.

Justin shrugs, dropping his shoulders with a sigh and rubbing a hand over his head. "Not even sure what stopped being fun. It's not for lack of new shit though… I, uhh, kind of branch out into a lot of things, I guess you could say I'm kind of an entrepreneur on top of the day job."

See, I was right, definitely a workaholic and somebody who stretches himself thin. Of course, from what he says that used to be good for him. I'd hate it, I'm a 'one thing at a time' kind of girl, but some people thrive on it.

"That's cool," I say lightly. "Got to pay the bills, right?"

Again a wry smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "True. Can't say money's a problem though."

"Are you going to tell me you're one of those rich playboy types? Can't say I had you pegged for such a cliché," I joke with a light elbow to his side.

"Actually I'm a millionaire."

It took me a few moments before I realised that he wasn't joking. I was all prepared to laugh and start cracking sarcastic jokes, but then I realised he hadn't been sarcastic to begin with. It was all flat, deadpan, not a hint of playing on it. God, now I know he must be a workaholic - you can kind of tell when somebody was born rich and Justin clearly wasn't.

"Wow." It takes me a few seconds to think up a response, and typically it's a wise crack to cover up how uncomfortable I am. "And to think I actually paid for your drinks when you were all rich and shit."

Oh, bad thing to say, he's getting all defensive and the shoulders are hunching up. "Well I'm sorry if…"

"No, no, it was a joke, don't be sorry. Lily's rich as hell and I still buy her stuff."

"Nah, nah, it's okay… I swear I don't normally drop that in conversation like I'm confessing to murder."

"No, no, it's no big deal, really. Still, I suppose it explains why you can afford lots of time off. My only excuse for that is the school year running out."

Once again, uncomfortable silence falls. In those moments the sound of the waves seems to become deafening, like somebody's playing with the volume control. You concentrate on talking and it goes down, you stop and they dial it right back up. My foot taps involuntarily against the sound, and I'm very conscious of the way my chest rises and falls with every breath. I honestly don't care if he's got money, I'm just very aware that I did not handle the news in the most smooth and elegant fashion that I could have. Making him feel awkward would be bad, he's my only entertainment and respite from 'well Antonio would be a great idea, he needs to move out.'

"Do you think I should go back?" He suddenly asks, a slight tone of misery to his voice. Crap, my joke was so bad it's driving him off the island.

"Well… do you feel ready?"

"No."

"Then don't," I reply, tentatively rubbing his arm the way I do Nina when she's upset. "Wait until you're ready."

"What if I miss being ready?"

"If I think you're ready and just avoiding it I'll kidnap you and drive you to the airport myself."

"Thanks, Addy," he says suddenly, clasping his other hand over mine on his arm. "I think I would have gone crazy if I hadn't had somebody out here to talk to."

"Well I would have gone crazy if I'd had nobody to hang out with, so this was a mutually beneficial relationship."

He rushes on, his line of the conversation jumping around a little. "You know, if you wanted to test LA out and try before you buy or whatever, you'd be more than welcome at my house. It's the least I can do, I really…"

"Boy, you're good. Quit worrying. This is Adora, we don't worry here. We merely…"

"What?" Clearly I'm getting too obvious, because from the look on his face he's waiting for a joke. Maybe I should look for a new defence mechanism here.

"Ruminate."

"Ruminate?"

"Ruminate."

He sounds sceptical. "Do you even know what that means?"

"Ye… probably. I think. A dictionary check might not go amiss."

"God, woman, your jokes are lame." He slings an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze, so I put mine around his waist and squeeze back.

"So I've been told."