“He invited us to the Rose Bar at the Delano?” Alexa asked as she and Holly walked into the bikini shop that afternoon. “It’s only the trendiest hotel bar in Miami.” Alexa had been hoping for a chance to go to the Delano this week, though hanging out there with Holly’s dorky friend seemed less than ideal.
She wants to come? Holly worried as she checked the price tag on an orange bandeau bikini. Holly had been hoping that Alexa would turn down the option so Holly could slink out to meet Diego alone. But now she was realizing that it might not hurt to have some other people with her tonight. She’d feel more secure surrounded by her Flamingo friends. She and Diego could always ditch the others if things got hot and heavy.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Holly said casually, joining Alexa at a colorful rack. “And we can bring Daisy and Kaitlin, too.”
“But we won’t have to actually talk to Car Crash Boy, will we?” Alexa asked, rolling her eyes.
“Of course not,” Holly said, feigning interest in a burgundy tankini.
“Good,” Alexa said. “Because I guarantee you that there will be lots of delicious boys there and we won’t want to be associated with someone like Diego.” She shuddered, then held up a bright, lime-green halter bikini. “Try this on, Hol. The color will look pretty with your eyes.”
“I don’t know,” Holly said. The bikini wasn’t her style at all. The bottoms were cut high up the leg, there were ribbons on each of the hips, and the top half looked like no more than two little triangles of fabric.
But when Holly tried on the bikini in the dressing room, she had to admit it fit her well. The summery color was eye-catching, and the price was right for her tight budget. Would Diego like it? she wondered, then chided herself for being such a girly-girl. It shouldn’t matter what Diego thought. She was buying the bikini for herself.
Right?
Feeling bold, Holly asked the saleswoman to cut the tags off after she’d paid. She wore the bikini out of the store, under her tank and shorts. She and Alexa drove to Lummus Park Beach. The beach was within walking distance from the shop, but the girls were savoring the privilege of the car. They had called Grandma Ida earlier that afternoon; to Holly’s immense relief—and as Alexa had secretly expected—Ida was low-key about the minor fender bender, and told the girls that they could still keep the car for the week.
The beach was crowded at this hour—people were packed together on the sand, towels vying for space with beach chairs. There was a volleyball game going on down near the shore. As Alexa and Holly crossed the sand, Holly thought she noticed a gaggle of teenage guys ogling her. No, they’re looking at Alexa, she told herself, tucking her hair behind her ears.
They set their towels down in a narrow space between a large family and a canoodling couple. Alexa watched as Holly took off her shorts and settled down on the towel. Holly was totally working the new bikini—but seemed unaware of the effect she was having on the guys around her. Even the boy next to them, who was kissing his girlfriend, paused to gape at Holly. Alexa grinned.
The girls were reaching for their respective sunscreens when a volleyball bounced onto Alexa’s towel, and rolled to a stop at Holly’s feet. Alexa was miffed. She didn’t like it when sports-type people invaded her personal space. A girl in a flowered two-piece jogged toward them, her long dark braid swinging from side to side. “Sorry,” she said as she bent to retrieve the ball. “Hey, are either of you up for a game?”
“No, thanks,” Alexa said, lying back on her towel. She was heinous at volleyball. Plus, all that grunting and jumping around was so inappropriate for the beach—the whole point of sunbathing was to lie still for as long as possible.
Normally, Holly might have shied away from a stranger’s invitation, but her date with Diego that morning, combined with the new bikini, was making her feel bizarrely confident. And next to track, volleyball was her favorite sport.
“I am,” Holly said, getting to her feet. She asked Alexa to watch her stuff, and followed the girl down to the volleyball net. There was a nice mix of guys and girls on both sides, and Holly spotted some eye candy on the opposite team: a boy with shoulder-length brown hair and the lanky, fit shape of a surfer. When everyone went around and said his or her name, the guy introduced himself as Shane.
Holly dove into the game, spiking and serving with verve. There was hot sand beneath her feet, surf just inches away, and seagulls sailing overhead. Holly could feel the muscles working in her legs. The sweat trickling down her bare back felt good and healthy. What a day she’d had already—Diego, this game, and, possibly, kisses to look forward to tonight. Holly couldn’t remember feeling this satisfied in a long time.
Her team was rotating when a bearded guy in his fifties, wearing a sun visor and carrying a megaphone, walked smack into the middle of the game, followed by another guy holding a television camera. Holly’s teammates looked at one another, surprised at the interruption.
The guy with the sun visor spoke into the megaphone. “Good afternoon, all. I’m Mike Koch from the Pulse Network and we’re filming our annual spring break special here in South Beach.”
A buzz rippled through the crowd and Holly glanced at her teammates excitedly. Pulse was a trendy new cable network that showed music videos, documentaries about teens, and reality shows set in high schools. Pretty much everyone at Oakridge High watched Pulse. Holly had seen some of last year’s spring break special, which they’d filmed in Fort Lauderdale.
“We’re holding a bikini contest over there,” the man continued. He pointed toward the other end of the beach, where Holly saw a television crew assembling lights and cameras. “Would any of you ladies care to volunteer? The first-place winner gets two free passes to a new nightclub.”
The girls on Holly’s team pushed forward, chattering eagerly. Holly hung back, studying her toes. She didn’t like to volunteer for anything, and the idea of a bikini contest seemed ridiculous to her. She just wanted to go back to playing volleyball. Suddenly, she heard the Pulse guy say, “What about you, miss?” When Holly glanced up, he was pointing straight at her.
“Me?” Holly stammered. She’d almost forgotten that she was even wearing a bikini. She looked back up the beach, wanting to ask Alexa what she should do, but couldn’t find her friend in the sea of sunbathers. “Yeah, you,” Mike grinned, waving her over. “Come this way. We’ll just need you to sign some release forms—”
Holly took a few steps forward. They wanted her? Through her fog of disbelief, she felt a shiver of pleasure. She—bland, stay-at-home Holly Jacobson—was going to be on TV!
Alexa was sitting on her towel and fiddling with her tiny digital camera—she’d packed it in her tote, hoping she’d be inspired to take some photos today—when she heard a commotion from the other end of the beach. She squinted into the distance. A makeshift catwalk had been constructed on an elevated platform, and there was a huge television crew. Swarms of people were gathering around the set, and Jay-Z was blaring out of tall speakers.
“What’s going on?” Alexa asked the couple next to her, who had stopped feeling each other up long enough to check out the action.
“I think it’s Pulse TV,” the girl said. “They’re filming some kind of contest.”
“Really?” Her curiosity piqued, Alexa stood and picked up her tote. This she had to see. She lifted Holly’s tote, too, then glanced down to the volleyball net. There were no longer any players in sight. Alexa shrugged. Maybe they had all gone down to watch the contest, though it was weird Holly hadn’t come by beforehand. And Alexa was mildly annoyed that she was saddled with Holly’s beach gear.
Alexa looped Holly’s bag over her other shoulder and trudged across the sand to the catwalk. She had to push past hordes of curious spectators in order to get a good view of the stage. There were cameras everywhere, trained on the catwalk. Clearly, a bikini contest was under way. The girl with the long braid who’d invited Holly to play volleyball was strutting her stuff across the catwalk, holding a small cardboard sign bear
ing the number 3 out in front of her. There were whistles and catcalls from the crowd. The girl paused on the edge, thrust out her hip, and pouted at the three judges who were seated at a table right off the catwalk. Alexa recognized the judges: one was a famous swimsuit model, the other was a hip-hop producer, and the last was a B-list sitcom star. It’s a real show! Alexa thought, looking around the crowd for Holly. This would be a great story to tell the kids in Oakridge when they were back home.
The guy standing next to Alexa nudged his buddy and pointed to the catwalk. “That one’s on fire!” he commented. Alexa turned back to the catwalk. And there was Holly.
Alexa’s mouth fell open in shock as she watched her friend walk across the elevated platform. Holly looked a little tentative, taking small steps and hesitantly holding out her “Number 4” sign. But, as the cheers and whistles around her grew in volume, Alexa could see Holly relax and become more confident. She tossed her shoulders back and put one hand on her hip, striding along in time to the thumping hiphop beat. She looked from side to side, her face breaking into a wide smile, her gray-green eyes shining. She looked like a girl who was realizing for the first time how attractive she could be.
Alexa felt a sudden burst of jealousy. She wanted to be up there, working it for the judges in her redand-white checked bikini. Am I actually envious of Holly? Alexa wondered. She never would have expected feeling like that. But it was as if the girl strutting across the catwalk wasn’t Holly at all—at least not the same Holly who’d clutched Alexa’s arm on the airplane two days ago. Alexa smiled as Holly stopped in front of the judges and gave a little curtsy. She had to admit that her friend looked pretty adorable up there.
Holly stepped off the catwalk and went to rejoin the other contestants, and Alexa could hear everyone buzzing about the girl in the lime bikini. Alexa felt a flash of pride. She’d told Holly to get that green twopiece.
Alexa was nothing if not a fashion connoisseur. Another girl, a voluptuous redhead in a tiger-print bikini, wiggled across the catwalk. She was definitely hot, Alexa thought, but she had nothing on Holly’s genuine vibe. After Tiger Girl had descended, a baby-faced, spiky-haired guy wearing shades got up on the catwalk with a microphone. Alexa recognized him as Zack Ferguson, the crushworthy host of Pulse’s music video hour.
“Very nice!” Zack exclaimed. “This is a tough call. Let’s have all our lovely contestants back onstage while the judges make their decision.”
Tiger Girl, Volleyball Girl, Holly, and two others filed onto the catwalk as the judges huddled. Holly was chewing on her lip, Alexa noticed. She had to be beyond nervous up there. Imagining how her supremely shy friend must be feeling in front of this crowd and all the cameras, Alexa felt a rush of sympathetic butterflies.
“It’s time for our judges to tell us who our first-, second-, and third-place winners are,” Zack announced. “Delilah, let’s start with you. Who did you guys pick for third place?”
The swimsuit model stood up and held up a cardboard sign with “Number 1” on it. Cheers erupted from the crowd as one of the girls Alexa hadn’t seen walk leaped up and down in excitement.
“Congrats to Kelli from Chicago,” Zack said. “You win a free beach ball! And who’s in second place?”
Alexa realized she was wringing her hands. She watched with bated breath as the hip-hop producer held his sign aloft. “Contestant Number five,” he announced.
Tiger Girl smiled with her lips closed. It was clear she’d expected to win first place. Zack congratulated her on winning a year’s supply of suntan lotion. Then a loud drumroll came over the speakers.
“All our contestants are extremely smoking,” Zack called into the microphone. “But we can have only one winner. This lucky girl will win two free passes to Yacht—the hottest new club in town. Bob, can you tell us who that winner is?”
The sitcom star flipped over his sign and held it up to the crowd. Number 4. Everyone burst into wild cheers and applause.
Alexa didn’t register that Number 4 meant Holly until she saw the expression on her friend’s face. Holly looked dumbstruck and her cheeks turned crimson. Every camera in the vicinity zoomed in on her. The host took her hand and pumped it in the air.
“Yes, Holly!” Alexa cried. All her earlier jealousy had vanished, and was replaced with pure excitement. She tapped the guy next to her on the shoulder. “That’s my oldest friend up there!” she exclaimed, bursting with pride.
“Go congratulate her,” the guy replied, gesturing toward the catwalk.
Alexa elbowed bystanders out of the way, and leaped onto the catwalk, not caring if she was allowed up there or not. She set down the two tote bags, then tore toward Holly and enveloped her in a huge hug.
“Alexa!” Holly cried. She was surprised at how happy she was to see her old friend on the catwalk. “I won!” They hugged each other and jumped up and down, an act they’d perfected back when they were ten years old.
The other contestants were milling about on the catwalk, casting envious glances in Holly’s direction. Some of the kids from the volleyball game had climbed onto the stage, dancing to the music while the cameras continued to film.
Alexa squeezed Holly’s hand. “This is unreal, Hol,” she whispered, then drifted off to dance.
Holly shook her head dazedly. Unreal was right. If she told anybody back home, they wouldn’t believe her. But home was so far away—and so were her parents. They had no idea what she was doing down here.
And for the first time in her life, Holly Jacobson felt blissfully, completely and simply…free.
A warm hand on her back made her spin around. Shane from the volleyball game was grinning at her.
“Hey, Holly. Congrats!” he exclaimed. “You were incredible.” Without warning, he leaned over to give her a hug and kiss her cheek. Holly, panicked by the sudden attention, turned her head to the side and accidentally brushed her lips against Shane’s. She immediately stepped back, mortified, her hands flying to her mouth.
“Whoa, relax,” Shane said, smiling. “It’s cool. We’re all sharing the love here.” Then he winked and loped off, utterly unruffled by the encounter.
“Did that guy try to make out with you?” Alexa asked, sidling up to Holly. She’d been flirting with Zack Ferguson—who’d turned out to be totally dense—when she’d seen Holly sort-of kissing a boy. Was that her first kiss? Alexa wondered, curious. But she knew she couldn’t ask Holly that type of question in public.
“It was an accident,” Holly mumbled, overcome. Suddenly it was all too much. The blinding sun and the cameras and the roar of the crowd. Holly wanted to escape from the beach and unwind somewhere, but she knew she had to talk to the Pulse producers and pick up her prize. She made her way off the catwalk toward Mike and the people from Pulse, with Alexa at her side.
Mike handed Holly the two passes to Yacht and told her that the bikini contest would be airing that night at ten o’clock.
“Too bad there’s no TV at the Flamingo,” Alexa said to Holly. “I’ll call my dad and have him TiVo the show so we can watch it when we’re back home.”
“Okay,” Holly said slowly, unsure if she wanted to see herself on-screen.
“Besides,” Alexa added, “we’ll be at the Delano by ten tonight, won’t we?”
The Delano, Holly thought, remembering Diego. She drew a breath. As much as she was looking forward to the night ahead, she hoped it would be a laid-back evening. After everything that had happened today, she couldn’t handle any more surprises.
CHAPTER NINE
Under the Stars
At a quarter to ten that night, Alexa and Holly glided into the lobby of the Delano hotel, looking their most glam. Holly was wearing a brand-new white lace dress, with flutter sleeves and a black sash cinching the waist—definitely the girliest article of clothing she had ever owned. Holly had bought the dress that afternoon, with Alexa’s help, at the Intermix on Collins, deciding she needed something special for her big night out. The dress had been on sale, but as H
olly had handed over the cash, she’d felt mildly worried; her funds were rapidly dwindling.
But money was the last thing on Holly’s mind as she strode across the Delano’s cherrywood floor in Kaitlin’s strappy black sandals. She had gotten a slight sunburn from her long day at the beach, but Alexa had assured Holly that the color gave her a healthy glow. With Daisy’s faux diamond studs in her ears, and makeup expertly applied by Alexa, Holly felt like an impostor—but a desirable impostor. She was anxious for Diego to see her. In her black bag, she’d secretly tucked her two free passes to Yacht. She figured that if she and Diego wanted to make their escape from the others, the two of them could sneak off to the nightclub alone.
“We look so much hotter than those girls,” Alexa whispered to Holly with a devilish grin, motioning to a cluster of Prada-clad models who stood in line for the bathroom. Holly grinned in return; she did think she looked pretty good, but she wished she could carry off Alexa’s complete confidence.
Alexa had decided that a visit to the Delano was the ideal occasion to debut her floaty, ethereal Laundry strapless dress; its dusty rose color perfectly set off her tan. Her hair was done up in a loose bun and she’d lined her eyes to make them look smokey, but left her lips pale, with just a hint of gloss. It had taken her a while to get ready that night, but the effort was worthwhile. The Delano’s lobby was just as luxe in real life as it had appeared in the Elle photo.
Flowing, gauzy white drapes cascaded down from the high ceiling and white columns lined the main corridor. There was a sushi bar and the fancy Blue Door restaurant, and on Alexa’s immediate right, the crowded, dimly lit Rose Bar. At the very end of the lobby was a set of a doors leading out to the lush back orchard and pool.
Suddenly, Alexa felt a hand on her shoulder and she gave a start.