Holly gasped, frozen. She was totally nude, sopping wet, and had absolutely nowhere to hide. She watched in shock as Aaron’s eyes swept over her body, and she thought she saw the corner of his mouth curl up in a smile. But it was so quick, she was sure she’d imagined it. Then, she sprang into action and grabbed her towel, wrapping it around herself as fast as she could. Her swimsuit fell onto the shower tiles. She bent down and snatched it up, along with the soap and shampoo.
“Oh, man, I’m so sorry,” Aaron said, covering his eyes. “I honestly had no idea someone was in here. Kaitlin told me the outside shower was free.”
Holly was shaking uncontrollably. A random boy had seen her naked. It had to be the single most embarrassing moment of her entire sixteen years.
“She—she must have meant her shower,” Holly stammered. She felt goose bumps rising up on her arms. “I have to go,” she said, pushing past Aaron and running like mad back toward the motel.
“What’s the matter with you?” Alexa asked as Holly burst into the room, her teeth chattering and her eyes enormous. Alexa had long since finished her shower and was standing in front of the mirror, wearing a delicately beaded baby-blue camisole from Arden B. over a ruffly white miniskirt and high-heeled metallic silver mules. She held a Nars eyebrow pencil in one hand, in mid-makeup procedure.
“Aaron just saw me naked!” Holly exclaimed. She hadn’t planned on telling Alexa, but it was impossible to keep the humiliation to herself.
Alexa threw her head back and laughed. “You’re so lucky!” she said. “Now he’s going to want you even more.”
“He doesn’t want me,” Holly mumbled. What was Alexa talking about? She stepped around Alexa to get to the bed, and her half-unpacked bags. Then she noticed the window shade was up and the window was wide open. Holly could hear horns honking and a group of guys drunkenly singing a Black Eyed Peas song down on Ocean Drive.
“Oh, my God, Alexa, close the window,” Holly gasped, wrapping her towel around herself even tighter. “What if someone sees us changing?” She’d had enough exposure for one night.
“Would you chill?” Alexa said. “I like seeing the beach when it’s dark.” But she climbed over her bed and did as Holly had asked, rolling her eyes all the while.
Holly turned her attention to her bags. She was so eager to get into some clothes—any clothes—that she pulled out whatever she could find: red capri pants and a white sleeveless T-shirt. She dressed quickly and was jamming her feet into black slides when she heard Alexa clear her throat. She was standing by the dresser, looking Holly up and down.
“Uh-uh,” Alexa said. “You are not wearing that on our first night out in SoBe.”
“Why not?” Holly asked, feeling defensive. Her outfit might not be as slinky as Alexa’s, but it wasn’t hideous or anything. Couldn’t Alexa just lay off?
Alexa tossed her mascara tube down with a clatter, then walked over to Holly’s bed. She started sorting through Holly’s clothes, shaking her head in exasperation. She refused to be seen with someone who couldn’t dress well. Finally, Alexa plucked out a strappy black tank top and held it up. “This isn’t bad,” she said.
Holly took the top from Alexa. Jess had convinced her to buy it on sale from Urban Outfitters last year, but Holly didn’t wear it very often because it was more low-cut than most of her tops.
“Put that on with the capris,” Alexa ordered. “I’ll get you some accessories.”
“Look, Alexa,” Holly began, trying to stand her ground. Just because Alexa used to boss her around when they were little didn’t mean the same rules had to apply now. “I think my outfit’s fine.” Though, even as she spoke, she was thinking that the black top would look pretty nice with the red pants.
Alexa didn’t respond. She was back at the dresser, where she started looking through an array of earrings, bracelets, rings, and belts. She selected a pair of dangly silver earrings and a sparkly belt.
“Holly,” Alexa said as she walked over, slipped the earrings into Holly’s ears, and looped the belt around her waist. “You need to trust me on this. You want some boy attention tonight, don’t you?” She looked at Holly’s amended outfit approvingly. “When you change your top, I’ll do your makeup,” she added, heading back to the dresser.
Holly was preparing to protest when suddenly a crazy notion struck her. Diego lived in South Beach now. What if she ran into him in a bar? She’d want to look her best. So Holly took off her T-shirt, slipped on the black tank, and joined Alexa at the mirror. She had to admit that the outfit she had on now was definitely more going-out appropriate. And the long silver earrings looked dramatic with her short hair. Holly let Alexa line her eyes with black pencil and swipe some gloss on her lips. The makeup felt thick and unfamiliar on Holly’s face.
“See?” Alexa said. “Much improved.” Done with Holly, she applied Trish McEvoy gloss to her own lips, sprayed herself with True Star, then stepped back and smiled at her reflection, satisfied. Her skin was glowing from the shower and her still-damp, wavy flaxen hair tumbled over her shoulders. She was primed for a night out in the country’s most sizzling party town.
“You girls all set?” Kaitlin called from outside their door. “The boys are almost ready, so we’re heading off soon.”
“Wait for us!” Alexa called, slipping on her dangly sapphire earrings.
Holly hurriedly brushed her hair, put on her silver ring, scooped up her tiny black bag, and headed for the door. Alexa picked up her silver clutch and followed Holly into the hall, locking the door behind them. Kaitlin, Daisy, and the boys slowly congregated, teasing and laughing. Holly made a point of not looking at Aaron as the raucous group of seven made their way downstairs and into the lobby.
“Let’s get this party started!” Jonathan called as they left the Flamingo.
Alexa, who was walking ahead of everyone else, stopped to soak up South Beach at night. Darkness had fallen, and Ocean Drive was neon-spangled and fiery with color. Every bar and restaurant was brightly lit, with people pouring in and out in big groups. The cars driving by blared hip-hop, and the streets were throbbing with beautiful, scantily clad people. The very air felt seductive, alive, magical. So this is South Beach, Alexa thought. It was just as she’d imagined it. She held her breath, anticipating the delicious night ahead. All she had to do was dive in.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Truth About Body Shots
“Check her out—think those are real?” Jonathan asked, pointing to a woman who had emerged from an elegant, Art Deco-style hotel. The group from the Flamingo was heading up Collins Avenue toward Lincoln Road. Alexa and Daisy were in the lead with the boys, and Kaitlin and Holly were trailing behind.
Holly turned to look. The woman was petite and deeply tanned, with long, frosty blonde hair. She was walking next to a suave older gentleman, and she wore a gold sequined sundress that hugged her curves and barely covered her enormous breasts. Holly tried not to stare. She’d never seen anyone like that back in Oakridge.
“If they look that good, who cares?” Thomas laughed.
“Whatever,” Alexa said, flashing Thomas a flirty grin. “Nothing’s better than the real thing.”
Alexa couldn’t help it; South Beach’s sensual vibe was making her feel reckless. She, too, glanced back at the woman in gold. The woman’s older boyfriend was now guiding her into a white stretch limo, which promptly slid off into the glittery night. Alexa wondered what sort of exciting places the woman and her sugar daddy were heading toward. For a second, she imagined herself in the backseat of a limo, sipping Cristal and being fed black caviar by some rich and famous guy—though preferably one who was under forty.
“You’re right about that,” Aaron said, nodding in agreement with Alexa as the group crossed Collins over to Washington Avenue.
Holly unintentionally locked eyes with Aaron, and her cheeks reddened. It was hard not to think about the fact that he had recently seen her non-enhanced boobs. As they walked up Washington Avenue toward Española Way
, Holly willed herself to relax. She was not going to have any fun tonight if she kept obsessing over the shower incident. All around her, gorgeous guys and girls were working it, strutting along in their most sultry outfits and heading toward various glam locales. Holly had never experienced this sensation before: Every person in the vicinity was going out to have a good time. There were definitely no homebodies in South Beach. It was exhilarating—and a little intimidating.
By the time they reached Lincoln Road, an outdoor pedestrian mall full of trendy shops and cafés, Holly felt a little calmer. The group nabbed a big outdoor table at a restaurant on a bustling corner. They ordered a pitcher of sangria and a bunch of appetizers to share, then settled back to watch the parade of people.
Alexa spotted musicians strumming their guitars in the street, mimes performing, and lots of wide-eyed wandering tourists. Alexa decided to come back here and take photographs of all the fascinating passersby. When she saw several more flashy couples—usually a stunning, voluptuous younger woman and a welldressed older man—she smiled to herself.
“What’s up with all the sugar daddies?” Alexa asked the group at large. She reached over and grabbed a mini-slice of pizza from all the food in the center of the table. She and Holly hadn’t had time for lunch that day, and Alexa was ravenous. She noticed that Holly, though, was only picking at her food and hadn’t poured herself any sangria.
“I think it’s a South Beach thing,” Kaitlin said. “There’s a lot of bling here.”
“Last year we went to Daytona Beach for spring break and it wasn’t like that at all,” Daisy said, nibbling on a chicken wing. “But, oh, my God, Daytona is amazing! Remember when those guys did body shots off us, Kait?”
“Duh. Of course I remember. That was the best night of my life!” Kaitlin exclaimed, tossing back her red curls.
Everyone at the table laughed, and Jonathan whistled loudly. Only Holly was silent.
Kaitlin noticed Holly sitting quietly and leaned across the table, grinning.
“Holly!” she said. “What’s up? Haven’t you ever done a body shot?”
“Well…” Holly hedged. Done them? She’d never even heard of them before. She felt a dead-giveaway blush creeping into her cheeks.
“Oh, my God, do you even know what they are?” Daisy squealed. The rest of the group broke up laughing again. Except for Alexa, who was watching Holly carefully.
“Wow, welcome to reality!” Jonathan called to Holly from down the table. “What planet have you been living on?”
“Hey, shut up, bro,” Aaron said, jabbing his shoulder.
“Yeah, shut up everyone,” Alexa said imperiously. She leaned forward and squeezed Holly’s elbow. It was embarrassing how innocent Holly could be, but Alexa suddenly felt protective of her old friend. Holly pulled her elbow away, regarding Alexa suspiciously.
“There are lots of ways to do a body shot,” Alexa explained. “But I have a preferred method.” She grinned. “You know when you do a tequila shot—with the salt and the lime?” Holly didn’t know, but she nodded, anyway.
“Okay. So the guy puts some salt on your belly or your leg,” Alexa went on, caressing her own leg to demonstrate. “Then he pours a shot of tequila on your stomach. He licks off the salt, and does the shot off you. If you want, you can hold the wedge of lime in your mouth for him to take out with his mouth when he’s done. It’s very sexy!” Alexa giggled, thinking back to her first body-shot experience, when she was in Turks and Caicos with Portia two summers ago. Sure, it had felt a little trashy, but it was definitely memorable.
“I’ll drink to that,” Thomas said, reaching for the sangria pitcher. He’d already had three glasses.
Holly nodded again. Body shots sounded disgusting to her, but she didn’t say that. She was sure everyone already thought she was a total prude.
“You have a lot to learn,” Daisy said, patting Holly’s shoulder. “But that’s okay. We’re gonna have fun teaching you.”
Once again, Holly wondered if it was her imagination, but she thought she saw Aaron smiling.
After dinner, the Flamingo group tried to get into Rumi, a swank-looking club off Lincoln Road, but the bouncer standing in front of the velvet rope chuckled and told them, “Go back to high school.” Alexa was miffed, since she was sure she looked better than the twenty-something models who were lined up outside, chain-smoking.
“Asshole,” Kaitlin muttered, striding back toward Washington Avenue. “Come on, you guys. Let’s go to Ohio’s.”
Ohio’s was a lively bar on Ocean Drive, right near the Flamingo. There was a line outside, too, but the crowd here was definitely more casual: boys in cargo shorts and white hats; sunburned girls in halter dresses. The bouncer was a tall, dark-skinned guy who wore a newsboy cap over his long dreadlocks. And he seemed more laid-back than the Vin Diesel wannabe at Rumi, Alexa observed as she and the others got in line.
Alexa and Thomas were in front, with Kaitlin, Daisy, Jonathan, and Aaron right behind them. Alexa craned her neck, looking for Holly, and felt relieved when she saw her standing by Jonathan. Alexa could just picture Holly getting lost and wandering the streets alone all night. The line surged forward. Alexa stepped up to the bouncer, gave him her most dazzling smile, and flashed her fake ID. She’d gotten it two years ago in New York City, and, according to the birth date, she was twenty-three. She knew she could pull off that age, especially in her flouncy skirt and heels.
The bouncer smiled back at her, obviously charmed. He barely glanced at the ID, and waved her in. As Alexa sauntered through the door, she saw throngs of rowdy kids grouped around the long, curved bar. Most everyone seemed to be her age, or maybe in college. Straight ahead, the room opened up to a good-sized dance floor. The DJ was spinning Pitbull—the perfect music to welcome her to Miami, Alexa realized with a grin. People were dancing in big groups, and couples were grinding. Spring break has officially begun, Alexa thought, and headed straight for the bar.
Meanwhile, outside, Aaron, Kaitlin, Daisy, Jonathan, and Thomas were flashing their own fake IDs at the bouncer. Holly watched them troop into the bar. She’d purposely stood at the back of the line to avoid being near Aaron. As she stepped forward, there were serious butterflies in her stomach. It hadn’t occurred to her until now that the bouncer might not let her in. She remembered her conversation with Alexa on the plane. Why didn’t I ever get a fake ID? Holly berated herself. Of course, she never anticipated ending up in a situation quite like this one.
Her palms clammy, Holly reached into her purse and pulled out her New Jersey driver’s permit. She glanced down at it, then quickly stuffed it back in her bag. The bouncer would never let her in if he saw she was sixteen.
“Um, hi,” she said. She hadn’t noticed from the back of the line how tall the bouncer was. “I feel really stupid, but I forgot my ID in my motel room…”
“Sorry, miss,” the bouncer interrupted. “No ID, no entrance.”
Holly was seized by panic. She couldn’t be left outside the bar like a loser. “But—but I swear I’m twenty-one! And all my friends just went in and…” What was she going to do? Did the rest of the group even realize she was stuck out here?
“Rules are rules, miss,” the bouncer said, shaking his head. “I can’t let you in. Now, please step aside.”
A sharp elbow in Holly’s side sent her stumbling out of line. She whirled around and saw a long-faced girl with her hair in pigtails saunter by, shove her ID in the bouncer’s face, and amble into Ohio’s, shooting a snide look back at Holly. There were titters from other people on line, who had clearly witnessed Holly’s exchange with the bouncer.
Near tears, Holly walked to the corner, away from the laughter. Suddenly, a boozy-looking boy with curly orange hair, wearing a backward Red Sox cap, came over to her.
“Hey, you,” he said, slinging an arm around Holly. “What’s wrong? Why didn’t the bouncer let you in?”
“Leave…me…alone,” Holly said through gritted teeth, trying to get his arm off
her. She was shaking a little. This creep was the last thing she needed right now.
“Yeah, baby,” Red Sox boy went on, as if she hadn’t said anything. “I can make your night a whole lot better.”
Boy attention. Holly had wanted boy attention, but not this kind. She shoved him away as forcefully as she could. Fortunately, he was so drunk he stumbled off the curb and wobbled away, but not before yelling, “Good luck scoring tonight!” back at her.
Hot tears pricked at Holly’s eyes. She turned to face the beach across the street, telling herself not to cry. God, she missed her friends. She’d give anything for Meghan or Jess to be here. They wouldn’t have even wanted to go to a place like Ohio’s. They’d decide to go back to the motel room, where they’d stay up late eating junk food and talking.
But I can’t go back to the Flamingo, Holly thought miserably. Alexa has the only key to our room. The full reality of the situation hit her, and she almost started crying all over again. I’m stranded in South Beach.
“Can I get you another drink?”
A short, muscular boy with a blond buzz cut, wearing a white polo shirt, leered at Alexa. She’d been hanging out at the bar, sipping a dirty martini, when he’d loped over to her. Thomas, Aaron, and the others stood nearby, fighting for a bartender’s attention.
Buzz-cut boy practically screamed “Delta Gamma Phi,” Alexa thought as she sized him up, but he wasn’t terrible. And she could get a free drink out of him. What was so bad about that? The sangria at dinner, combined with the martini she had now, made her feel warm and open to anything.
“Sure,” Alexa said, taking another sip of her drink. “How about a Cuba Libre?”
“What’s that?” the frat boy asked.
Alexa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “It’s a rum drink,” she said.
“Rock on,” the boy said, reaching for his wallet. “I’m Colby.” Then he leaned in and kissed her quickly on the lips. “And you’re beautiful,” he breathed.