12. Rock My World

12

ROCK MY WORLD

TERESA

" T eresa!" Taara yells, breaking me out of my trance. "Where did you go? Why are you out here?"

"Huh?" I ask.

"Did you find him?" she asks.

"Who?"

"The ‘hottie with the dog'—what did you say his name was? Paca?"

"…Paca…Pacari," I say.

I sort of remember. It feels like I haven't eaten enough. Like the brain fog I had all the time when the Hollywood people finally got to me and I stopped eating. It sort of feels like that, too, because it feels like something is missing. A big pit in my guts.

"We saw him, then you started doing some weird fucked up flirting by making out with another guy," Taara explains.

"Michael," I say, the name easier to recall than Pa…cari's. "Where'd he go?"

Taara shrugs. "No idea. When I realized you were gone, I ran around looking for you."

I grin, reading between the lines. "So your relationship ban is going well, then."

"Yes," she glares. "Especially thanks to my concern for you."

"Don't abandon your future with a pretty girl on my behalf," I laugh.

"Let's just go home. You're acting weird," Taara huffs.

"C'mon, you're so much more fun when you're getting laid."

"You're the only pretty girl I have a future with right now, and that's us getting back to Zephyr's in one piece," Taara grumbles, pulling me along with her.

"Aw, you called me pretty."

I wake up with an embarrassingly loud moan. Thank fuck Zephyr's grandmother's house is huge. Even still, I really hope I didn't wake anyone up .

But my more immediate problem is that I'm wet as fuck. I can't believe I had a sex dream so intense I woke up soaked and moaning. I can only half-remember it, just a swirling mess of color and bodies and…

Pacari.

What's so strange about him is that my memories of him feel like a dream—like the real, lived memories. I remember my orgasm in the sex cave, but everything about him feels like wisps and tendrils. I can't even remember what color his eyes were, but it feels like once they were so clear.

There's something seriously wrong with me.

After showering off so I'm no longer sticky between my legs—and after replaying every single possible memory—I realize what I need to do.

I need to find the fucking sex cave.

As soon as the realization hits, I can't think about anything else. Before I know it, I'm throwing on rain boots and a swimsuit and a coverup so I can slosh about in the water as necessary. This time I won't have Pacari between my legs, showing me the way. I also pack some water and snacks in my water purse—no clue how long I'll be searching for. There's also an insane part of me that checks to make sure I have condoms—because if I find this guy, I'm not kidding, I'm going to destroy him.

I don't remember Pacari, not really. I remember the feelings. The tension. And all of that is twisted up inside me as if he was still here.

The path towards the cliff isn't too difficult to see, luckily. Following carefully, using my phone light to guide my steps, navigating the path proves surprisingly easy. Zephyr's grandmother must have come this way often—the path is still deeply worn. The steps too, before the cliff juts out, are well taken care of. The ocean is a mass of black before me, with waves here and there catching the light, shining back a dim white.

Pacari walked me home the other night, but I was so cum drunk I can barely remember where we came from. This path is somewhat familiar—but it's not the first time I've gone down it completely lucid. My eyes rake the cliff for any familiar markings. I step over rocks and plants and debris, keeping my hand out to feel for a break in the rocks as I walk further and further along the beach.

Then my hand slips. I shriek as I fall into a gap in the rocky cliff face.

This isn't far enough away, I don't think. At least it feels unfamiliar. The rocks aren't the same, the tightness of the cave entrance is too close compared to the open expanse of the Sex Cave. I wipe my phone off on my coverup and shine the light in to see how deep it goes.

The cave expands out, getting wider past the initial skinny section. I'm about to turn back when my eyes catch a glimpse of something shiny and man-made. Glaring at the rocks that jut towards me, pinching together, I suck in like a Miss America pageant winner and push past them. They scrape my front and back as I go in sideways, but luckily it's not that bad, especially with the coverup to protect my skin. Once I'm past, I look around the inside of this cave.

My jaw drops.

All around the cave is a painting like the night sky. There's a handful of bright, yellow stars that blink as I pass my phone across them. When I step close, I can see the glass embedded in the stone, the source of the twinkling lights. What's more, there's broken crates scattered all around here. Broken glass bottles litter the floor.

As I step further into the cave, a sense of fear strikes through me—an innate warning that if the earth quakes, I'm trapped. But I can't help it. I'm mystified. It's a shame Dawn isn't here to see this. I start snapping photos to show her—I couldn't squeeze through the gap without a few scrapes, so she really won't be able to. If I had cell service, I'd straight up call her. She'd be so excited to see this. I keep glancing between the crates, the bottles, the wall, to try and put it all together. What was this place? Clearly I wasn't the first human to find it, but it also doesn't seem like whoever used to use this cave was here too long ago.

As I do another sweep, my eyes catch on a heart engraved in the stone. With the phone light, I can make out letters, too.

C ute, I guess? Not that I know what it says. Me and languages have never gotten along. I barely even know Tagalog even though Lola tried to get me to learn. In high school, I did Spanish for a year and it fell right out. They don't look like actual names, though.

What's super weird is the lines scratched across the words. The only reason I can read them is because someone filled in the engraving with paint that's half flicked off from weathering. I snap a picture of it to give to our resident Mistress of Mystery. Looking around, it's hard to see if there's more I can collect for Dawn before feeling anxious about being in here alone. It's cold and wet. The sound of water drops falling in the cave fills me with such a sense of dread. It feels nothing like the Sex Cave. Not cozy or welcoming at all. The vibes here are bad .

I swallow hard, not wanting to be in here much longer. If Dawn decides she wants more clues, I can come back with Taara or someone—but not alone.

To make matters worse, an awful, disgustingly bad rotten fish smell enters the cave and I know it's time to bounce. I make my way for the entrance, and prep myself to squeeze through the tiny opening.

And then the ground starts to shake.

I scream and curl up into a position where I can protect my head—not that it'll do much good if this place caves in. It's not even a bad earthquake—but I've never been underground during one! A few things fall over, I hear some rocks grind against each other… and then it's over.

Shaking, I rise slowly, unsure if this has become a death trap. All I know is it's time to go . As I slide my arm through the gap, I try to slide through just like I did before.

But now, no matter how much I expel my lungs, I can't get past. My knees scratch along the sides of the rock, my breasts and stomach and back—

Okay, this isn't happening.

Well, shit.

I pull up my phone and not even the SOS icon is showing. Just a flat line of nothing.

The panic sets in pretty fast. This was so dumb.

I'm alone. I'm trapped. And there's probably going to be aftershocks—and maybe worse.

I try again and again to get through the opening, because it's my only path out. Whenever I take a break, I pause to look at my cell only to see that it's dropped below ten percent and I feel like the dumbest idiot to ever grace this Earth. How did I let myself get so dickmatized I'm gonna die in a cave—and not even the fancy sex cave?

Great. Cool.

With nothing else to do, I scream through the opening.