Not Another Summer Love Story

Chapter 3 - Who's Most Likely to...

Another jagged splinter of lightening struck out at sea a few kilometres away. It separated the sky from the water, lining the horizon with its brilliant flash of blue. Each time it struck, the underside of the jetty where we had found refuge lit up as bright as day, illuminating our faces and triggering awe-struck comments from the crowd.

On either side of us, rain periodically bucketed down, running along the sand in miniature torrential rivers. It dripped from the cracks in the wood above us and made a constant drumming sound against the jetty, almost like a soothing song from the sky. Unlike Maisie, who was clutching Daniel's hand for support each time a particular loud thud of thunder occurred, I was enjoying it. Something about these electrifying light shows made me content.

We'd lasted another hour or so uncovered, sharing light banter and listening to music from a small speaker set. Eventually, the rain grew heavy enough to force us under the jetty. We were huddled close to where it started, so that the platform was not far from our heads. We'd managed to drag the deck chairs and esky under with us before they became saturated, so we were able to contiue our social event despite the storm's tormenting us.

"So wait, your family owns hotels?" Zoe asked Alastair, twisting her thin black hair between her fingers.

"Yeah," Alastair replied to her casually. "Our grandfather started the business, our first hotel was a little bed and breakfast in the country side. Our most recent addition is a forty-five storey sky scraper in Tokyo."

We'd drifted into a routine of asking the twins questions, which they were almost too keen to answer. I guess having someone new with us provided exciting entertainment for a group of small town teenagers like us. Zoe was being ever so welcoming with her not-so subtle way of flirting, batting her thick lashes and exposing her soft skin where possible. It was amusing though, and I gulped back some more cider and continued to watch.

"Do you have a hotel nearby?" She asked him, with a girlish chuckle.

"Nah, we're staying at a holiday house further up the beach."

Alastair had sat beside me again once we'd settled down on the dryer sand. I think he possibly did it to prove he was interested, or simply because everyone else could be making him uncomfortable. Everyone here was a little quirky, much quirkier than I imagined his sophisticated English friends would be. Zoe sat on the other side of him, quick to strike conversation where possible.

Beside us, Lottie sat with Maisie and Daniel, which irked me only a little. Maisie was my best friend and it sometimes bothered me when she got close with other people. It was mostly because, unlike her, I had little to nobody else to confide in, and I found it difficult to trust someone to begin with.

"With your parents?" Zoe continued the conversation, leaning a little closer and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Yeah," Alastair told her with a handsome smile. It wasn't difficult to see why she was flirting with him. Really, he would be an excellent catch for any girl around here. He was clearly rich from the way he boasted, he was very handsome and easy to get along with, which I was learning quickly by the way everyone seemed to adore him and his sister. You'd think being from an almost different world would make for some awkwardness. But, they fitted in pretty seamlessly.

"Which is why we wanted to hang out with you guys," Lottie said, sipping her beer gingerly. "Parents aren't that cool to spend three months with."

Quite a lot of alcohol had been consumed, by me included. Even though the humidity kept the temperature high, the breeze was starting to become cooler as the night progressed. The alcohol kept us warm and chatty.

"We should play a game," Logan suggested. He flung an arm around Lottie's delicate shoulders, making her flinch slightly.

"What are you suggesting?" Maisie asked as lightening flashed behind her. Her hair was now gathered in the hood of Dan's jumper, which he'd gallantly surrendered when the humidity became too much for her golden locks.