Kissing Frogs - A Tropical Fairytale

Spiders and Haters and Hot Boys, Oh My!

Chapter Four

A hand reaches out to steady me. It's Travis's. Confronted by faces ranging in expression from curiosity to severe animosity, I almost wish he'd let me fall in.

"Well, it wasn't exactly free," I say in a small voice. "I paid for my ticket."

"You mean your parents paid." Kiki narrows her eyes. "We fund-raised for half a year."

Actually, Dad and Mom did make me pay with the money I'd saved for Miami, but Kiki doesn't look like she's in the mood to hear it.

Chrissy shakes her short cap of white-blonde hair. "And that is so not the point anyways."

"The disappearance of frogs could trigger a chain reaction of unforeseen consequences, all the way up the ecosystem," Juan adds, having recovered enough to respond.

Right.

"Okay, let's get set up in our casas," Mr. A calls over. I slink behind the others, my new backpack feeling heavy. Chrissy whispers something to Kiki. Both of them cackle and look back. No one else meets my eyes as we are assigned our villas. "Girls on the left, boys on the right with me," Mr. A says.

"What?" Shaggy exclaims. "Dude, how come they don't get a chaperone?"

"Because we're more mature than you, Steven." Kiki flips her straight black hair and sticks out her tongue.

"Oh yeah, real mature," Travis says, giving her a light shot in the arm. Kiki stares down at her bicep then back up at Travis. Her almond eyes follow him as he walks over to Mr. A, whistling.

"Carlita will check in on the girls from time to time," Mr. A says. We've yet to meet Hector's wife, but from the mouthwatering smells coming from their villa, I gather she's busy preparing our lunch. My stomach rumbles. The last thing I ate was a stale muffin and some rubbery eggs on the plane. We separate from the boys at a fork in the path.

Chrissy and Kiki push on the door and walk in, followed by Harp. I stand back, admiring the beautiful stonework and spiraling staircase. The house is a mix of dreamy Tuscan villa, castle and tree house. It's the house Romeo would have built for Juliet if they'd run away to the jungle and lived happily ever after.

The club must have had a lot of bake sales.

I step inside. Burnt orange tiles pave the floor and the ceilings are high, fans blowing cool air down. The living room is to our right, along with a small dining area and kitchen, walls painted in bright yellows and blues. The staircase I'd seen from the outside leads up to a second floor. Chrissy and Kiki sprint up the stairs, probably to get dibs on the best bedroom. Harp and I follow them. We reach the landing. There are two rooms, each with twin beds, and a washroom in between.

"Kiki and I are taking the one on the left," Chrissy says, then flounces back to her room.

"I guess you're stuck with me." I give Harp a weak smile.

"Well, I snore," she says, walking into the room, "so maybe you're the one stuck with me."

"It's okay." I follow her in. "You should hear my dad."

"My dad has a sleep apnea machine," she confides. "He looks like an Indian Darth Vader."

I laugh for the first time in weeks.

We set our bags down. The ceiling in here is low, slanting down at an angle. Everything is made of burnished wood. Green curtains hang at windows that look out into gardens and a giant tree outside winds its way down and around to the ground.