It was actually kind of a big deal, but of course everything was decided behind closed doors in a really political kind of way. No one even asked the Student Action Committee what they thought.
“There’s red tide today?” Izzy says. She pulls out her phone and starts googling. “They didn’t post any warnings.”
“Um, it’s gone now, I think,” I say. “I just have some, you know, ah, lingering effects. It was just down the beach.”
“Oh.” She sounds doubtful, but she puts her phone away.
“Anyway, what are you doing here?” I say. “I thought you had a headache.”
“It never materialized,” she says. She sits down on Quinn’s bed. I hope she doesn’t mess it up. Quinn will think I did it.
“Oh. Well, that’s good.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I wanted to say I’m sorry for just leaving you there like that, you know, at the café.”
“That’s okay,” I say. “You weren’t feeling well.”
“Yeah.” She takes in a deep breath. “And I hope . . . I mean, I know you were Liam’s friend first and everything, but I hope we can still be friends, Aven. You mean a lot to me, and even though Liam and I are broken up, I want to make sure you and I stay friends. I don’t want it to be awkward.”
“Me neither.”
She smiles.
I smile back. “Are you . . . I mean, are you okay?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I mean, maybe it just hasn’t hit me yet, but . . . me and Liam, we were never . . . we just didn’t make that much sense. I never understood him the way you do.”
She gives me a look, and my heart catches in my throat. Does she know? Should I tell her? She nods at me, almost like she’s giving me her permission. Or maybe I’m reading into it too much. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Liam doesn’t think of me as anything more than a friend, and he made that perfectly clear. So whether or not I have Izzy’s blessing means nothing. I stay quiet, and after a second, the moment passes.
“Anyway,” she says, “I just wanted to come and apologize.”
“Okay.” I wait for her to ask me what I’m doing for the rest of the day, if I want to hang out or do something. But she doesn’t. She just squeezes my shoulder and then walks out the door.
And once she’s gone, I realize it. Izzy and I probably won’t be friends anymore. And it has nothing to do with Liam and how I feel about him. The truth is, Izzy and I were only friends because of Liam, the way people are only friends when they have something holding them together. Once that thing is gone, so is the friendship.
It’s not the kind of friendship I had with Quinn and Lyla, the kind of friendship that’s true and deep and built to stand the test of time. But then again, the thing I had with Quinn and Lyla didn’t stand the test of time, either. And if that’s true, then how can anyone’s friendship survive?
The whole thing is making my head spin.
I sit down on my cot and look around the empty room. Even though everything’s messy and strewn about—Quinn’s shoes on the floor, Lyla’s covers disheveled and hanging off the bed—the room somehow still seems lonely. It looks like it should be filled with three girls on their senior trip, laughing and talking and making plans. It’s just how I feel inside, messy and empty.
My phone buzzes.
If it’s that email, I’m going to throw it across the room.
But it’s not. It’s a text.
From Colin.
Who’s Colin? Oh! The bartender from yesterday.
Hey! Just wondering if you’re up for the sunset cruise tonight? It’s going to be really fun. Hit me back.
I start to type back a no with some excuse about how I have plans, but then I realize just how much of a lie that would actually be—I have no plans. Absolutely none. All I have is this empty room and a broken heart.
And I’m in Florida.
I’m tempted to curl up under the covers and just go to sleep, but I know deep down that will make me feel worse.
And what’s the harm in going out with a guy I met on vacation? It sounds fun. Unless, of course, he turns out to be a serial killer who wants to dump me overboard.
Hmmm.
What’s your last name? I type back.
The reply comes immediately.
Wallace ☺
I do a quick google. He checks out—student at USF, server on Siesta Key.
Then I google “Siesta Key sunset cruise.” There’s only one, and it looks fun, kind of like a party boat but not as crazy. And it seems like the boat gets filled with a lot of people, at least according to the pictures online. So if Colin’s a psycho stalker, this probably wouldn’t be the kind of thing he would invite me to.
I hesitate for a second, and then, before I can change my mind, I text back.
I’m in.
A few hours later, as I’m wandering down the streets of Siesta Key, looking for the place where this sunset cruise is supposed to set sail, I’m starting to realize what a truly horrible idea this was.
First, I had no idea what, exactly, I was supposed to wear on a sunset cruise, and I was pretty sure that anything I’d brought with me was totally inappropriate. And not the good kind of inappropriate either, where you’d be walking down the street and maybe some mom with her little kids would give you a look like, Are you seriously showing that much skin in public? No, all my clothes were inappropriate in a you can’t wear that on a sunset cruise because people will think you’re a fourth grader and kick you off the boat kind of way.
So I spent my afternoon shopping. The shopping was actually kind of fun—there were all these cute little boutiques filled with cool things like earrings made out of shells and flowing beach wraps and starfish paintings and boat shoes. It was the perfect way to spend the day, just strolling along from store to store.
The only problem was that all the salespeople were so friendly.
In Connecticut, you’re lucky if you can get someone to pay attention to you when you walk into a store, but here it was a completely different story. Not only did someone offer to help me as soon as I walked in anywhere, but they actually seemed like they cared about whether I found something I liked. A little too much, actually.
I ended up showing everything I tried on to this salesgirl, Mona, who oohed and aahed and made me feel like a model. But then she convinced me to buy this really cute chevron-print sundress because she told me it would be perfect for a sunset cruise, and of course I needed high-heeled sandals to go with it, and even though I really couldn’t afford any of it, I said screw it and bought everything anyway.
I mean, it wasn’t like I’d spent that much money on the trip so far—I hadn’t been eating out and having fun and blowing money on stupid stuff the way I thought I’d be. So I figured it was okay to splurge a little.
Plus, I was going on a date.
A real date with a real boy on a real sunset cruise.
The only problem was that now I was about to be late and I had no idea where I was going. I had my phone out and was trying to follow google maps, but I couldn’t figure out how to get it off the driving directions, which were different from the walking directions because of things like one-way streets. Not that I’d seen many one-way streets around here.
But still, there was no way these directions were right.
It said the boat was taking off from two miles away.
Two miles away? How could that be right? I thought Siesta Key was supposed to be small. And my hotel’s right on the ocean. Shouldn’t the boat just, you know, take off from somewhere close by? Of course, I know the ocean’s big, but you’d still think—
The sound of laughter fills the street, and I turn around to see a pedicab go whizzing by. Quinn’s sitting in the back with her two friends, Celia and Paige. Her hair whips back as they fly by, talking and giggling. Well. She certainly looks like she’s having fun. I shake my head and marvel at the fact that I risked my place on the Student Action Committee (which, let’s face it, wasn’t that big of a sacrifice, but still
) to make sure I got to room with Lyla and Quinn, and those two don’t even care.
Nope.
They’re just off gallivanting around in the back of pedicabs, their hair all shiny and flying. Okay, so Lyla wasn’t there. But she’s probably out somewhere, too, laughing and giggling as she juggles all the boys who want her, totally over her mini meltdown this morning.
Meanwhile, here I am, getting sweaty and muggy, my hair turning into a complete mess because I didn’t realize how far I’d have to walk.
I’m never going to make it before the boat leaves.
I try to walk faster, but it’s definitely not happening in these shoes.
I look around for a pedicab, but there are none. Of course not. Quinn and her stupid friends probably took the last one.
Finally, I spot a regular cab in front of one of the hotels on the strip. A guy in a suit gets out and talks to the driver for a moment before handing him a few bills. The cabbie counts the money and then starts to pull away, but I start calling for him to stop.
“Wait, wait!” I scream. “Please, wait!”
The cabbie looks annoyed, but he pulls over next to the sidewalk where I’m standing.
“Hi,” I say, leaning down so I can talk to him through the passenger-side window. My breathing is heavy, and I’m shocked to realize how totally out of shape I am. I really need to start doing some cardio. I’ll have plenty of time now that I won’t be hanging out with Liam and Izzy anymore. Maybe I’ll get into crazy good shape and then write an e-book about my transformation and get rich off it. It will give me a chance to do some writing now that my romance novel is on the back burner.
“What can I do for you?’ the cabbie asks.
“I need a ride.”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m an airport-only service.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“It means I only go back and forth from the airport.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like a very good business plan. You should be able to get fares on your way back to the airport if you want. Otherwise it’s just a waste.”
“They factor that into the price,” he says.
“Yeah, but think about all the tips you’re missing out on.”
This seems to perk him up. Not that I can blame him—it really is a terrible business plan, only taking people back and forth to the airport. What a waste of a cab. Not to mention all the gas fumes. It’s horrible for the environment.
“Anyway,” I say, “uh, maybe you could take me as a fare. You know, on your way back to the airport.”
“I just told you—”
“I have money!” I cry. “I’ll pay double, please, it’s not even that far.”
He sighs again, like he can’t believe he’s been put in the position of possibly having to strand a girl on the side of the road.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
I rattle off the address.
“That’s on the other side of the key!” he says.
“It’s only two miles.” I hold up my phone to show him, even though since he’s a cabbie I’m sure he knows exactly where everything is around here.
“It’s not on the way to the airport.”
“It won’t take that long.” I can feel something building inside me, and I’m shocked to realize that if he says no, I might actually start crying. I’ve been able to keep the whole Liam thing out of my mind all day by focusing on tonight, by thinking about the fact that I was going to be spending the night on a boat with another guy. But now that it might not be happening, I can feel the wound in my heart starting to open just a little bit, like a stitch that’s holding on desperately but might be under too much pressure to stay closed.
“Please,” I say.
The driver sighs, and then says, “Fine. But no luggage.”
“No luggage!” I say, getting in the car before he can change his mind. “I don’t have any luggage!”
He looks at me. “You’re sitting in front.”
Oh. I hadn’t realized I’d gotten into the front seat. But now that I’m in the cab, there’s no way I’m getting out.
“Yeah, so?”
He shrugs and sort of widens his eyes like he can’t believe he’s picked up such a crazy. But five minutes later he’s dropping me off in front of the dock, and I’m so relieved I can’t believe it.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I say.
I tip him ten dollars on a five-dollar ride, and then I’m out of the car and smoothing my hair and hoping I don’t look as frantic as I feel.
I spot Colin right away, standing over by the sign for Tucker’s, one of the waterfront restaurants that are flanking the dock. He’s wearing a burnt-orange sweater and baggy khaki shorts, and his hair is wet like he just got out of the shower. He’s even cuter than I remembered, taller and more built.
“Hey,” he says, smiling when he sees me.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say.
“You’re not late. And you look amazing.”
“Thanks.”
He takes my hand, and surprisingly, it doesn’t feel weird. It feels almost normal, like he’s not a complete stranger I met on the beach earlier, but someone I’ve known for a while, someone I can trust.
We start walking toward the boat.
“Have you ever gone on this cruise before?” I ask.
“A couple of times,” he says. “But not since last summer. The music is usually good, and it’s amazing to watch the sun set over the ocean.”
“Sounds awesome,” I say.
When we get to where the guy is taking people’s tickets so they can board, Colin pulls two out of his pocket. “I got the tickets while I was waiting for you,” he says. “I hope that’s okay. Sometimes these things sell out, especially during big vacation weeks.”
“Oh,” I say. “That’s totally fine.” I fumble with the purse I’m carrying and pull out my wallet. “How much were they?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, and I blush.
The guy at the door rips our tickets in half and hands us the stubs.
“Thanks,” I say, making sure to put the stub in my wallet. Who knows? This could be my first date with my future husband. I mean, how awesome would that be? That on the day Liam breaks my heart, I meet another guy, one who’s sweet and amazing and pays for things and wants to marry me. I’m already thinking about how I could fit that subplot into my book.
Colin leads me up a long ramp into a back part of the boat. The boat is crowded, but not overly so. There are enough people so that it feels like a party, but not so many that you can’t move.
We find a spot down by the end of the bow and stand there for a second, looking out over the water. It turns out I didn’t have to worry about being late, because the boat isn’t moving yet, and it doesn’t even seem like anyone’s in that much of a hurry to get it going.
“Are you having a nice trip so far?” Colin asks.
“Pretty nice,” I say, which is obviously a complete lie. Unless you count having to room with your two ex–best friends and getting rejected by the boy you love as pretty nice.
“Uh-oh,” Colin says. “Why just pretty nice? Are the frat boys of Siesta Key giving you a hard time? Did a retired golfer give you a dirty look for getting in the way of his shot? Just tell me who messed with you and I’ll make sure they don’t do it again.”
I laugh. “No, no, everyone here’s been so nice to me. It has nothing to do with the people.”
“Then what does it have to do with?” He leans over the side of the railing, and his eyes are warm, and I can tell he really does want to know—he’s not just asking to be nice or to make conversation. He’s actually really interested in me and my trip and what I have to say.
Obviously there’s no way I can tell him I’m upset over some other guy when I’m on a date with him. But I still feel like I need to say something, since he’s being so nice to me. And besides, it might be nice to talk to a neutral third party who knows nothing abou
t the situation.
“It’s just . . . did you ever build something up in your mind so much and then realize it’s not everything you thought it would be?”
He frowns. “Like realizing your parents are just people, and not these amazing humans who aren’t supposed to do anything wrong?”
“Sort of,” I say, “but it’s more like . . . I just thought this trip was going to be amazing and wonderful and perfect and it just turned out to be a mediocre normal kind of trip.”
“Well, that usually happens when you build something up in your head. And besides, you can’t say this was a mediocre normal kind of trip.” He gives me a flirtatious grin. “You met me.”
“True.” I smile.
“Do you want something to drink?” Colin asks.
“Depends,” I say. “Is it going to be as good as the drink you made me on the beach yesterday?”
“Definitely not,” he says. “But it will at least be served by me, so it’ll still be special.”
I laugh. “I’ll have a Diet Coke.”
“You got it.”
Colin disappears through the thickening crowd of people, heading toward the bar. I turn around and look back out across the ocean. The sun is starting its descent, but it’s still flaming red, shooting sparks of burnt orange into the sky. I take in a deep breath of tropical air, then lean down and watch the waves sliding lazily against the bottom of the boat.
A wave of vertigo passes over me, and I grab the railing to steady myself.
After a moment, my head feels better, but my brain starts moving. It’s like I was okay when I was standing in one place, but now that something has shifted, my whole energy has as well.
Images and thoughts start flashing through my mind one by one.
Liam, sitting there on the beach while we played tic-tac-toe, his face serious.
The way his hair flopped over his forehead, the look in his eyes when he told me he didn’t like me as anything more than a friend.