I'm so sorry this took me forever to update! Between dancing six-out-of-seven days of the week, along with piles of homework in classes that I'm struggling to keep up with, and just the basic needs of sleeping and eating... I haven't had time or energy to write. Along with an annoying case of Writer's Block that I didn't get over until a few days ago...
Anyway, I loved everyone's reviews - you guys are amazing! I really hope you enjoy, because the story is just beginning...
"How was dinner for everyone?" Gran asks from the head of the table, glancing at the nine other people scattered around the room.
Alfie, Amber, and I sit at the breakfast bar, while our six other housemates are seated around two small tables that Gran and I pushed together. Since it is usually just Gran and I, the one table is only as big for four, but because of the number of people that have been invited over, we needed to use one of the foldable card tables to combine with our regular table.
Everyone murmurs words of praise, making Gran smile. I stand up, taking mine, Alfie, and Amber's empty plates and bring them to the sink, where Gran meets me with the other seven plates.
"Do you want me to help you clean up, Gran?" I say, turning on the faucet to wash the dishes.
Before I can dump my hands into the water, she stops me. "Don't worry, Nina, I've got it. Go have fun with your friends," she says.
"But-" I protest.*
"Nina, the only reason they are here is to hang out with you. I can do all of these chores for now," Gran insists. "I want you to have fun during the three weeks that they are here. After all, summer doesn't last forever."
I nod, pondering her last words and thinking that they are the perfect lyrics for the song that I had started to write. I leave the kitchen, only to meet Fabian in the hallway, studying a photo of my parents.
He turns to me when I stand beside him, whispering softly, "Are those them?"
He does not even need to clarify who "they" are, I already know. I don't even have to nod, he can see in my eyes, glimmering with sadness, that that is the truth. I can only just stare at the pictures of my parents, their smiling faces that just had to be taken away by one collision in one terrible storm. I realized how much I missed their hugs, their laughs, their smiles. Even my mother's terrible cooking, usually burned to a crisp, was missed.
"Your mother looks just like you," he says.
I scoff. "No, she doesn't. My mother was gorgeous."
"So are you, Nina," Fabian insists.
I roll my eyes at him, though cannot help blushing a little at his compliment. I take his arm, putting my head on his shoulder, shaking off the sad memories that still linger in the back of my mind. "Have you finished unpacking?"
"Actually, not yet. Your Gran's cooking smelled too amazing for me to bother to unpack," he replies.
I smile. "You just play the perfect boyfriend part brilliantly, don't you?"
"'Brilliantly', Nina? Looks like I'm rubbing off on you."
"Yeah, you most definitely are," I laugh. "But seriously, why are you so perfect?"
"I'm perfect?" he smirks, faking mock surprise.
"Don't pretend like you don't know what you're doing," I say. "Complimenting Gran's cooking, complimenting me. You want something, don't you?"
"I'm not trying to be the perfect boyfriend, I'm just telling the truth," he says.
I shake my head at him, but I still cannot stop smiling. "Of course you are." I put my arms around his neck, and he wraps his arms around my waist. "Do want me to be truthful?"
"It would be preferable, I suppose," he says.
"You're the most perfect boyfriend in the world, with a heart of gold, and an amazing smile," I compliment.
"I must be quite the catch then, hmm?" he questions.
"You know it," I say. And then I kiss him, because it just feels right, and perfect.
We have only been kissing for a minute, and then a yell makes us break apart in surprise. I can only recognize the yell as being from Amber, who is angrily saying, "Jerome, give that back!"
I groan in frustration, dropping my hands from around Fabian's neck, grumbling, "Always. Happens."
"Can we expect nothing less of our housemates?" Fabian answers, and I have to agree. For as long as Fabian and I have been together or had a moment, we have always been interrupted.
"I guess not. Should we go see what Amber and Jerome are up to?" I inquire.
He nods, taking my hand and squeezing it gently.
When we go upstairs, we see Amber standing in a tightly-wrapped pink towel, her hair still damp, making me guess that she just took a shower. She glowers at Jerome who is holding up a bundle of blue clothing in his hand. He keeps faking right and left to try and get around Amber, but she is too quick for him and will not let him pass.
"What happened to your sense of humor, Amber?" he teases.
"That's my favorite swimsuit, Jerome! And if you get it dirty I swear I will kill you," Amber threatens.
"Oh really?" Jerome asks, stepping back a few feet.
"Where are you going?" Amber hisses, anger lacing her voice.
"Oh nowhere," he replies causally. All of a sudden, he dashes toward the stairs, almost knocking into me down them.* I see Eddie catch Jerome's arm before he can run down, the latter having to clutch the railing so as to not slip and hit his head on the stairs.
"Hold on, Jerry," Eddie scolds, pulling him back to the enraged Amber. "You're not going anywhere."
"Really, Eddie? You of all people?" Jerome stares at him in surprise.
"Whoa. When did you get responsible?" Patricia questions, stunned.
"Always the tone of surprise," he mutters, pushing Jerome towards Amber. "Jerry, I'd suggest you give those clothes back to Amber."
"Can no one take a joke anymore?" Jerome exclaims. No one answers, so he sighs in exasperation and throws the bundle of clothing at Amber. "Here. Take it."
He trudges off to his room, and Eddie and Patricia go off to their rooms, leaving me and Fabian to look at a slightly frazzled Amber smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothes. I notice that she is holding a bikini top and bottom, along with a sheer dress of knitted blue thread.
"Going swimming, Amber?" I say.
"Not really. More tanning, than anything. Would you two like to join me?"
Fabian and I exchange glances, recalling the heavy, humid air of the summer outside. It would be nice, getting out of the heat and relaxing in the cool water. We both nod, making Amber grin and say, "I'll meet you at the pool in a bit!"
She hurries to the room that she shares with me, slamming the door behind her so she can get changed. I turn back to Fabian, and he smiles at me, nodding for me to go on. I give him a quick kiss, saying, "I'll see you in a few minutes."
I am about to open the door, but realize it is locked tight. I jiggle the handle, but nothing happens. I bang on the door.
"Amber, let me in!" I say.
"Hold on, I'm changing!" Amber says.
"I need to change, too!" I retort.
"Nina, just hold on," Amber replies calmly.
I tap my foot, occasionally glancing at my phone to check the time. Five minutes pass. Ten. Fifteen.
I knock on the door again. "Amber, what are you doing in there that takes fifteen minutes?"
"Makeup."
"But you're going into the pool," I say slowly, trying to grasp her idea. It's not coming to me.
Her voice sounds closer to the door, "No, silly. I'm going to sun bathe. This porcelain white skin needs a bit of color."
She opens the door, and I see her final ensemble. A dark blue bikini top that ties at the back, with a matching bottom that ties on the sides; sparkling thread is embroidered in swirling designs on the edges of each piece. Over the bikini is a sheer, creamy-gold halter dress that shimmers with every movement, the same dress that I saw earlier.
"Nice. It's a good color on you," I compliment.
"I know, right? I knew that I needed something that would compliment my skin color, but was also really stylish that would portray my figure beautifully. And this one was perfect, so I just had to buy it!" She looks me over. "You're wearing that?"
I ignore her comment about my clothes and reply, "Not if I can get into our room to change."
"Oh. Right." She makes room for me to get past her, closing the door behind her. "Do you have anything pink?"
"Nope," I reply, digging through the neat piles of clothes sitting in my dresser's drawers.
"What are you wearing then?" Amber asks.
"This." I hold up my own swimsuit: a red one-piece with a sharp v-neck, the back cut-away in a diamond shape, with gold beading along the top.
"Ooh, pretty. I still think you would have looked better in a bikini*," Amber praises.
I blush softly. I'm not going to get into a bikini because I would look idiotic. "Thanks, but no thanks, Amber."
While I get dressed, Amber rambles on about what she has been doing in the two weeks we had been apart. She came home to find an early birthday present for her, an adorable French poodle puppy. She named the puppy Truffles, because apparently that's the perfect name for a poodle.
Once I am clad in my red swimsuit, I pick up a beach towel from the back of my chair, along with a bottle of sunscreen, while slipping on a pair of black flip flops that my aunt gave me for my birthday last year.
"Ready?" I say, interrupting Amber's babbling.
"Wh- Oh, yeah. Let's go."
. . .
Jumping into the pool, I swear I splashed Amber by accident, judging by the squeak I heard right before my ears were surrounded by water. It makes the area around me completely silent, and I remember all of the great times I had when I was younger, going swimming during the hot, summer months and loving the feel of the refreshing water on my skin.
I open my eyes - even in the chlorine water, my eyes don't sting after years of being subjected to the irritating solution - and look around the pool, seeing small air bubbles floating around my head. My hair swirls around my face, the brown tresses reflecting gold light in the crystal clear water. I am always amazed at the beauty of the water around me: the slow, undulating movements that surround my body, the light sparkling in every direction possible.
Soon, a slight ache begins to gnaw at the bottom of my chest, slowly building until it's almost unbearable. I surface, my hair slicking to my face and shoulders as I take in a deep breath and relish in the crisp wind that has appeared while I was underwater.
"Oh, thank goodness," Mara says, worry written all over her features. She is peering at me from the edge of the pool, her hair in a loose braid, falling over her shoulder, with thin strands fluttering in front of her face. It is obvious that she has not gone into the pool yet: her hair is not glistening from moisture, her skin still not covered in beads of water.
"What?" I say, my voice finally calm after recovering my breath.
"You were down there for a while, so I was afraid you had drowned or something," Mara explains.
"Oh," I answer. "Sorry. I've swam for as long as I can remember, so I have learned how to hold my breath for a while."
"You used to swim?" Fabian asks, coming towards us in a set of swim shorts, looking as lean and geek-chic-ish as ever.
"Yeah. It was a hobby I had before coming to England." I know I give out a huge open answer by leaving the last part out, but I really do not want to share the reason why I quit swimming.
"Why did you stop?" Fabian's question rings in my ears, asking the question that I dread the most.
I disregard the question and say, "So, who's coming in with me?"
Fabian locks eyes with me for a minute, a bit of confusion in his eyes. I smile sheepishly, trying to dissuade him from pushing the subject. He looks away, beginning to rub sunscreen on his arms.
I keep my uneasy smile on my face for a moment longer, before it disappears, changing into a small frown. I don't want to keep the reason from him, but in front of everyone here? No, that was just too personal. I would share it with Fabian or Amber, since they are the closest people I know, but that's it. Everyone else are friends, but just that.
"Cannonball!" I hear someone shout.
I turn, just in time to see Eddie catapult himself into the water, drenching me from head-to-toe, and making Amber screech in surprise.
"Oh. My. God. Now, I am completely soaking wet, and I have to go fix my makeup. Thanks a lot!" She stomps off, her hair hanging in blonde curtains around her face, so I cannot read her expression.
I laugh at Eddie's stunt, seeing him clearly soaked from his jump: his spiky hair now laden with sparkling beads of water. "Nice one," I say wryly. I push the back of my hand against the water, causing a small wave to spray his face. "But that's for splashing my best friend!"
He smacks his palm on the top of the water, causing a ripple effect and splattering me with water in return, making me yelp. Then, we engage in a massive splashing fight, all the while laughing and feeling the warmth of the summer sun on our backs.
1st *: I figured that Nina, being the Mary Sue she is, would offer to help, even though most teens would just leave and not care.
2nd *: I'm not sure if they have specific terms for swimsuits or whatnot in England, so I sort of just went with the American terms... Sorry.
3rd *: I thought Jerome was going to throw the clothes into the garden and get them dirty, or whatever...
I honestly don't like the name of this story, so please review and send in a new name for it. I'll post the names next chapter, and you guys can vote on your favorite. So, once again, please review!
~Ary
