A Narration from the Brain of Jewel Quinn

Chapter 13: Why girls go to the bathroom in packs

Chapter 13: Why Girls go to the Bathroom in packs

I walked out of Odette's room in a daze and ran smack into Brandon. Blake's younger less attractive younger twin brother.

Everyone seems to forget about him. Blake, being buff and hot, kind of grabs all the attention.

"Christ, Quinn," he said as we both scrammbled around to pick up the chess pieces he dropped when I bumped into him. "What happened to you?"

Brandon is freakishly smart. The kind of smart that would warrant skipping a couple of grades but Brandon says that he wants a few more years to observe the degradation of America's school system in small towns.

"Nothing. I was just a little dazed that's all."

"I got that." Brandon said pushing a pair of old tortoise shell glasses up his nose. "I mean what's with the face paint?"

I gave handed him the last chess piece. "Don't tell Jenny."

"Don't tell Jenny what?" I stood up and he noticed what I was wearing.

"Jesus, Quinn. Where are you going?"

"Nowhere." Must I really be forced to stand here while he finishes talking. I really wish he would just go away. Plus his nerdy jewish friend Isaac was staring at me like I was an insect he'd like to discect and it was making me really uncomfortable.

"Nobody goes nowhere like that." Brandon says his gray eyes staring at the flowers in my hair, then got this funny look on his face. "Quinn, are you going on a date?"

"Yes I am. Because I always go on dates nearly naked." I said sarcastically while adjusting the white sarong that rested low on my hips.

"You didn't answer the question." Brandon pointed out.

I guess I could have stood there and explained to him that Odette had threatened to inflict bodily pain (well practically) if I didn't wear the things she put out for me. But I don't think he'd believe me. So instead I said, "Look just don't tell Jenny, okay?" before running away.

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The beach was emptier than I expected it to be at three in the afternoon. I headed into the beach using one of the side entrances, making sure to stick close to the walls and avoid being seen by Stephanie Laurens and her cronies.

Odette wouldn't let me wear a shirt on top of the skimpiest bikini in the world so I was going to have to go to Cordova, a surf shop on the dock, to grab a rash guard.

The shop was empty except for a blonde haired guy behind the counter who was franatically punching at his cell. As I came closer, I read his name tag. Mark.

As I introduced myself and stated my purpose for coming into the store, he looked up from his cell. "Ryan and his buddies are by the shack.", he said.

The shack was basically a hut where all the cool kids hung out when they went to the beach. It was sort of like the VIP section. There wasn't an actual rule that states you can't stay there. It's just that when you do, all the 'cool' kids stare you down and you end up walking the walk of shame all the way to the other side of the beach.

I pushed the rash guard closer to him. Gently nudging him to get off his phone and do his job.

"Ryan had specific instructions not to let anyone buy anything." he said briefly looking up.

"Nobody has to know. I just really need the rash guard." I said desperately.

"Look. I don't really have a beef with you and all and" he said giving me an apologetic look. "there must be a reason for Ryan to do this so I'm sure that if you explain everything to him and tell him about whatever jizz you're in he'll even offer to buy it for you."