Book cover help! I’m super suckish at finding anything remotely cute and designing it. So help? Post the link below in the comments if you want (:
Anthony can pull off wet hair. Let me tell that much. His hair looks like he just stepped out of the shower and its a really cute look. This irritates me a lot.
And now he got me coffee even though I basically banned him from the room yesterday. Mixed signals much? One second we’re at each other’s throats, the next totally calm. I can’t tell if he’s trying to knock me off my track and get me coffee. Now he has something to use against me later.
Is that why he got me the coffee?
I sit there in the chair next to him in silence. I can’t tell if it’s a good silence or a bad silence. He’s not telling me much. I take another sip.
“When do you think the actual reunion is?” I ask and look at Anthony, gripping my paper coffee cup lightly and will myself not to run my hands through hair.
“Probably one of the last days in the get together,” Anthony looks at me.
“That’s true. If my mom makes me do anything remotely about her high school life I’m not doing it,” I say and take a sip of my drink, looking anywhere but Anthony.
“You and me both,” Anthony agrees.
I glance back at the hotel room and don’t see any movement. They must’ve been really out. It’s already past nine and they aren’t waking up. Or moving at all. I didn’t think they would have that much, even if they were gone almost the whole day. Apparently they really trust Anthony and I to be left alone.
“Do you think they’re okay?” I look back, leaning my shoulder against the chair and turning.
“They should be...” Anthony looks back. I ignore the fact we’re only a little apart and shoot back to my position. Every time we’re within a little bit of space it feels like the world is tilted and everything is just wrong. Like we shouldn’t be next to each other at all.
I pick up my coffee from the chair arm and drink it smoothly. I’m going to have to pee so bad after finishing this. I stand up and walk inside, the air conditioning swallowing me. Goosebumps rise on my arms and legs and I shiver. Whoa. I didn’t think there was that much of a difference between outside and inside.
“Mom?” I whisper and knock on her door lightly. I don’t hear anything and open the door extremely slowly, hoping it doesn’t creak. Mom is completely out on the bed, gripping her pillow and rolled under the covers. I feel like I’m four again, waking up so early reguarly and going into my parents room, waking them up. I walk over and sit down, crossing my legs Indian style.
“Mom?”
“What?” She says quietly and sounding annoyed.
“Are you okay?”
“Just fine.” she says and groans a little.
“Are you sure?” I ask her and look at the small light coming in from the open door.
“Completely.”
“What’s the plan for today?” I whisper.
“Sleep,” she rolls over to her other side.
“Not sleeping. I didn’t come all the way to Florida just to spend the whole time in a hotel.” I can’t believe I just said that! I don’t want to join my mom on anything remotely high school like. This basically just gave her free reign to drag me on stuff like that.
“How about we go to the beach?”
“So you don’t have high school stuff planned the whole time?”
“Dear God no. There’s not much to see. The high school and my old house. Most other things I can’t show you or were replaced with other things. Like all the old stores I shopped at, small cafes I ate at, bars me and my friends went too...” she trails off when she realizes she basically just admitted underage drinking to me.
“Mom!” I say, this time in a normal voice. I can see her body tighten and lower my voice again. “Not supposed to say that!”
“Well sorry for saying the truth. How about you and Anthony head out to the beach. It’s not hard. A short walk,” my mom says and yawns.
I sigh. “Really?”
“Yes. Go.”
“Fine mom. Whatever,” I stand up and walk over, closing the door and looking at Anthony’s mom sitting on the couch. She looks like a model. It’s crazy. Even when she’s practically drooling more then a bull dog she can make it look graceful and poised.
It’s fine to ask Anthony to join me for the beach, right? I mean I bet he would have better things to do like text his friends and do what guys do. I don’t know what he would do but it’s better then joining me at the beach.
I can’t even imagine what I would do when I see Anthony in a bathing suit either.
I look at the clock and slide open the door again.
“Want to go to the beach?” I ask and sit down on my chair.
“Um, sure?” Anthony says, looking confused.
“I don’t think either of our moms are getting up and I need something to do,” I take a sip of my coffee.
“Sounds good,” he says and I nearly choke. I didn’t think he would actually say yes. I wouldn’t mind sitting on the sand with a blanket and reading a book while sun tanning. That’s what the beach is about anyway, right? Sitting and not doing much but relaxing? It’s a white sand beach too so it’s going to be gorgeous and soft.
“Alright. I’ll go get changed,” I stand up and bring my coffee with me, my heart racing. Why is it such a big deal he said yes? I don’t get it. It was a simple question he said yes to. Why am I so nervous? It’s not like we have to communicate! I could read he could swim or surf or something. Just because we’re going to the beach together doesn’t mean we’re friends or anything. I’m just sick of sitting around and waiting for something to do.
I change quickly out of my bathing suit and pull a pair of denim shorts on. My heart isn’t slowing down at all. Not when I think about fat old hairy men or dogs or anything. I won’t relax in any way. I toss my coffee in the trash can and go back outside. As soon as I sit down Anthony stands up, not looking at me.
What did I do? Are we going to return back into enemy territory? I don’t even know what I did this time!
He brushes by my chair and closes the door. I tap my nails against the chair and prop my legs up on the wire framing on the balcony, part of my legs dangling off.
Anthony comes out probably a minute and half later wearing a ‘bikini inspector’ shirt and swim trunks. I refrain from rolling my eyes. What a mature shirt.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Don’t we need towels and stuff?” Anthony looks at me.
“That would make sense.” I go into the closet where the towels from the hotel and from our homes are kept. I pull two out and look at Anthony, handing one to him. I hold the sun screen that was put on top of the pile.
“Ready now?” I ask him.
“All good,” Anthony tells me and opens the hotel door. “Ladies first.”
“Thanks,” I smile but on the inside, I’m absolutely shaking.
