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Two weeks ago
It is so, so hot here.
And muggy. I hate humidity, not just for the mess it makes of my hair, but also because the air's so heavy and wet I might as well be breathing underwater. I suppose it's a small price to pay, though. It's not every day we're living it up in the Sunshine State.
"Fix your face," says Tanya, tucking her hair behind her ears. Her bun keeps coming loose; not even perfect girls like my sister do well in weather like this. "Negativity is unattractive."
"Guess we're lucky there's no one around to see, then."
"I'm around," she snorts, punching my arm lightly. "But seriously. You've been in a funk all morning, baby Bell."
"I know," I sigh, ignoring her stupid nickname. It's her "cute" way of letting me know she thinks I'm being whiny. "I'm sorry. I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm not made for this type of heat."
"Don't be ridiculous. We're in Miami Beach. Everyone's made for this."
I blow my bangs from my face. "Maybe."
"Definitely." Tanya pulls a tank top on over her suit. "Not that we'd know, because we've been indoors for days. We need to be on the beach, already. Let's go."
"Bree said no tan lines..." In four days, our cousin Bree is getting married, and we're bridesmaids. Her stress levels are epic, and she's become demanding and impossible to please, so we've started making ourselves scarce. We're staying in her childhood home, though, so she knows where to find us.
Tanya cocks her head at me. "Right."
I shrug, smirking, because I don't care either. We didn't come all way from Seattle just to avoid the sun. Slipping on a sundress, I follow Tanya out of the bedroom and down the hall of Uncle Marcus' palatial beachside villa.
Back home in Seattle, Daddy's chief of police, and life is good. Really good; Tanya and I have never wanted for anything. The extravagance of this place, though, is mind blowing; it's hard to believe Bree grew up here. Uncle Marcus is a lawyer, and apparently a really successful one - lots of high profile cases. We've always heard whispers that he has a hand in shady dealings, and now there's little doubt in my mind.
I'm not concerned with any of that right now, though, because I'm following my sister through sliding glass doors and into a dream framed by palm trees. The sun is high in a heartbreak blue sky, so golden and bright it blinds. Across the yard, and over a carefully manicured wall of shrubbery, glimmers the Atlantic. Towels and beach bags in hand, we make our way to the shore.
"I should've come to college down here," mutters Tanya, shading her eyes even though she's got on sunglasses. "Damn."
There's public access to the beach a little further up, and most schools are out for summer break, so there's quite a crowd. We wend our way through umbrellas and blankets, picnics and sandcastles, squealing children and frisbee games, the air savory with scent of suntan lotion.
"Tan-tan!" someone yells, right before we're nearly bowled over by an exuberant blonde in a neon green bikini. "I knew it! Knew it was you!"
"Irina," laughs Tanya, hugging her. I glance around, grinning hard when I spy Kate and Rachel, two more of our cousins. Their flight came in just this morning; they didn't waste any time in hitting the beach.
"Did you even stop at your hotel?" I ask, giving Irina a hug.
"Barely. Mom and Dad are there, sleeping off their jet leg." She pulls her white blonde hair into a ponytail. "I can sleep when I'm dead, you know?"
I nod, amused at her pep.
"So what've we missed?" she asks.
"Not a thing. You're lucky you're only now getting in," I mutter. "We've been doing wedding prep for days."
"Ugh, I bet. Aunt Renalda said Bree's being a total bridezilla."
We make our way to the network of blankets the girls've set up nearby, dropping gratefully to the ground. I toss my dress aside and start applying sunblock, nervous that the scorching sun will wreak havoc on my pale skin. Forget tan lines; Bree would kill me if I got a sunburn.
"We've been here since like ten," Irina says, gesturing. "And it's been like this almost all day. Where were you guys?"
"Sleeping in, trying to recover from the past couple days," Tanya snarks, launching into something that happened yesterday with Bree's floral arrangements.
Tucking my flip flops into my bag so they won't get lost, I stretch my legs out and breathe deeply, feeling relaxed for the first time since we got to Florida. Also, the heat's not so obnoxious when coupled with an ocean breeze and minimal clothing.
"Hey, do you want anything to drink?" Rachel asks, grabbing her wallet. "There's a bar a little ways up the beach, but the waiters work the shore, too. They'll bring anything if you tip them enough."
I squint up at her, shrugging. "What're you guys having?"
"Coke," she says, smirking. "I have the rum in my bag."
"Then get me two," Tanya butts in, peeling her shirt off.
I nod. "Yeah, me too."
I'm not drunk.
I'm not.
Well, all right, I'm a little more than tipsy - but I'm not quite drunk.
We're all feeling a little merry, though.
To everyone's surprise, Bree herself showed up a little while ago. Apparently, her maid of honor, Emily, gave her an ultimatum: get drunk and happy or find another MOH. So that's what she did – and we've had no problem helping out. Between drinks and frolicking in the water, flirting with random guys and several rounds of Mad Libs (courtesy of Kate's iPhone app), it's been a good day.
When lunch time rolls around, Bree insists on ordering lunch for the group, and a pair of pretty-boy waiters from the bar deliver the food right into our laps. Tanya has a thing for one of them, and I'm pretty sure I see her getting – or maybe giving – a phone number.
I can't recall the last time we were all together like this, so it's been fun, soaking up the sun while we chat. Bree's always lived down here, but the rest of us grew up in the greater Seattle area. Sometime back, though, Irina, Kate and Rachel moved with their brothers and parents to Portland. These days, the only times we see them are during the holidays or for family gatherings like this one.
Kate and I are deep in conversation when wet, freezing cold fingers poke viciously at my sides, making me shriek mid-sentence. Whipping around, I find Tanya on her knees behind me, glassy eyed and giggling.
"What?" I laugh, trying to wipe my back.
"I've been calling you for like ten minutes," she gasps, finally getting a grip.
"Don't exaggerate."
"I'm not. Shut up. Anyway, listen - we're leaving soon. Did you want anything else? To drink?" She asks, doing something weird with her eyes.
"Um, no...I'm good." I say, shaking my head.
I'm about to ask if she has sand in her eye when she says, all pushy, "you sure?"
Glancing around, I finally clue in. One of the waiters is standing nearby, hands in his pockets, smiling faintly as he waits for us to get it together. I assume his shift has just started, because we've been here all day now and I haven't seen him before.
But he's one of those guys.
Dimples and a killer smile.
Sunset hair and sun-kissed skin.
One of the beautiful ones.
"I, okay," I stammer, even though I'm a little light headed. The sun's going down, but it's still really hot, and I've been drinking all day. "Just club soda. With lime. Please."
"And a cherry," Tanya purrs, playing with my hair.
She's so full of shit. I roll my eyes, trying to stifle a laugh. Shaking his head, the waiter chuckles anyway, bright green eyes full of mirth. "Four Cokes, two Sprites, and a club soda with lime. Is that it?"
"That's it," Tanya says, perched like a pin up girl in her indecent red one-piece and matching sunglasses.
"You got it. I'll be right back."
His eyes flicker from Tanya to me, and for a second, it feels like he's checking me out. But then he nods, and turns back down the beach, relaxed and casual like he's not at work... like he's not being flirted with and checked out by half the girls on this beach. I'm trying to force my eyes away when he glances back, just once, and smiles.
Yeah. I'm definitely feeling lightheaded.
Knowing my cousins and Tanya, they'll want to go out later. I'm not opposed to that, but a quick nap at the house would do me good. Grabbing my bag, I start shoving the detritus of the day back inside: phone, cherry Chapstick, waterproof camera, gum...
"You gotta wait til he comes back, Bell," Tanya murmurs.
I look up, caught off guard. "What?"
"I said wait til he comes back with your drink." She swipes my beach bag from me.
"I'm done drinking," I huff. "I'm exhausted."
"You ordered a club soda! And anyway, no one said you had to drink. I just said wait - "
"Why? So I can watch you run game on some guy?"
She makes a face. "I don't even know how we're related. No. Not me, doofus. You. You're the one he was looking at."
Now I'm the one making faces. "Right."
"Rina," she says suddenly. "Wasn't that guy checking Bella out?"
"Who, the guy from the bar?" Irina looks at me, nodding. "Totally. You were too busy geeking out with Kate, though."
I squint down the beach, feeling like a fool because their words have my heart fluttering.
"Bet you'd be blushing if you weren't so sunburnt," Tanya teases, giving my hair a gentle yank.
"Thanks." I brush her off. "As if I didn't already feel like a dork."
"Bella." She's suddenly serious, pushing her sunglasses up so that I can see her pale blue eyes. "You're perfect. And he noticed. So just...stop freaking out and go with it for once."
I can see she means it, and that means something to me.
So I brush my hair back from my face, and I swipe some Chapstick on. I readjust the top of my swimsuit, and the bottom, and then I wait. He reappears eventually with another guy, carrying our drinks in to-go cups. They're talking and laughing like they're close, and maybe not just co-workers.
I try to tell myself he's just a guy. Just a waiter on a beach. He's charming because he has to be; his tips depend on it. He probably flirts with everyone – old, young, male and female. Why wouldn't he?
But then he's in front of me like an mirage in the desert, handing me my club soda. There are plenty of limes inside, and a couple of cherries too, and I can't help but smile. He smiles back, running his fingers through his hair. Tanya pays him, and he thanks her, but then he's looking at me again. I sip at my cold drink, glad for the relief it brings, but inside I'm overheating at how his pretty eyes trail over me. Guess Tanya was right. I get the feeling he might want to say something, too, but then his coworker touches his arm, nodding toward another group that needs attention, and the spell is broken.
"Have a good one, ladies," he says, flashing one last million dollar smile as he walks away. He doesn't turn around this time.
There have been boys.
But never, ever a boy like that.
thanks for reading. ;)
xoxo
