A Place In This Life

Chapter 1

At what age does a girl get to make her own decisions? Like whether to hang out with her parents, or not? I mean, at 17, I surely thought I'd be allowed to stay home while my family went on their usual summer vacation to Santa Catalina Island.

"What if you needed to reach us?" asked my mother, shooting questions laden with guilt out of her mouth when I tried to argue my reasons for staying home.

"Isn't that what cell phones are for?" I said, waving mine around.

"You know what I mean," she responded, hands on her hips and a big no on her lips.

"But I know how to cook. I won't answer the door to strangers. And I'll dial 911 if there's an emergency."

"Nope."

"But I don't fit in the bunk. My feet touch one end and my head the other," I moaned, pulling at straws in a final attempt to ditch the vacation.

"Bend your legs," said Taylor, my 13-year-old brother. Even at the crest of puberty, he still had a girly voice and plenty of zits for five other people, and I wasn't looking forward to having him sleep in the bunk above me. He smelled like he never bathed, which was true, and had a gas problem that only compounded the issue.

"Pack your bag, Natalie," she said, turning to walk away from me as I stuck out my tongue.

No matter which way I argued my case, I wasn't in the majority with that decision, hence the reason I was now stuck in the middle of the God-forsaken Catalina Channel on a small boat, somewhere between the California coast and Catalina Island.

"See? Isn't this better than staying home alone?" said my mom, slathering her arms with thick gobs of sunscreen.

"Yeah, much better," I replied, looking out over the dark blue water as the wind chopped little waves on the surface. A few flying fish whizzed by.

I tried to think of what I did like about going to Catalina Island, to keep me focused on the positive so I wouldn't be so pissed-off about the trip. I was fond of the gay men in Speedos loitering on the Avalon boardwalk, as well as the drunk people hanging out of Luau Larry's bar window, Wicki Wackers in their hands with more rounds on the way. And then there were the dime-a-dozen pervs standing outside the gift shops, their hands deep in their pockets, while the wives were inside buying something for the dog babysitters back home.

Then there was Two Harbors... the only other city on Catalina aside from Avalon. It was dusty and I think there were only three or four residents, tops. The place had a huge buffalo population, so there was crap all over the hills and trails. I even saw gold-dipped poop being sold as a souvenir once. But as for people my age, I was in the negative, instead surrounded by the mid-life crisis crowd and its Botox mentality.

To deal with it all, I would snag one of my dad's beers whenever possible and chug it in the boat bathroom to enhance my mood. If I could get two, my mood would become even better. My parents never seemed to notice when I was a little buzzed, but I sure did. It felt good and naughty. In fact, I liked being naughty, having matured a bit in both body and mind since the previous year's vacation. For one, my boobs finally got bigger, but unfortunately so did my hips. Even so, I bought my first bikini for this trip, making sure it at least covered my hips and butt. The thought of my father seeing me in it made me think twice, so I packed my one-piece and a million cover-ups as well.

On this particular trip, I was more of a woman than a girl, which made me nervous as hell but really excited, too. The prospect of attracting the opposite sex was heavy on my mind. I wondered about boys a lot, having never really dated one myself. I was feeling reasonably attractive, being rather tall and of medium-build, with long brown hair and, unfortunately, big feet. Not a jock or an extrovert, I preferred spending time at the library, bookstores and coffee shops, debating oddities with the friends in my head. Needless to say, that didn't make for a very vibrant social life back home, but at least I could pretend while on vacation.