by Alison Ryan
I sure hope so, I thought.
The Holts were listening to Aaron Neville up front, Mr. Holt singing softly off key to Mrs. Holt, who was reading a thick paperback and chewing on a Slim Jim. Looking at them I thought about how nice it must be to be married. You can sit in a car for hours and not get nervous about how you look or what you’re eating, because if he married you, there was nothing to hide anymore. Mrs. Holt didn’t look like she had a care in the world. She was driving to the beach in a station wagon with her soulmate and the human being their love had made together. And her friend. It seemed like a good life to have, and I envied it.
“So what did you and Ryan do last night?” McKenna whispered over to me.
“Just hung out by the water tower,” I said. “It was pretty much the most romantic night of my life.”
“Did you… you know?” McKenna pointed to the word sex, which happened to be emblazoned on a YM quiz- Sex: Are you REALLY ready?
I shook my head, “No. But he did tell me he loved me.”
McKenna’s eyes widened, “I’m so jealous! That’s a thousand times better than sex. And to be clear I’m not jealous because it was Ryan. I’m just jealous that you’ve had someone say it to you. Did you say it back?”
I nodded, a little embarrassed, “I did. I actually said it first.”
“What?” McKenna said loudly, causing her mother to glance back at us.
“Is that wrong?” I said.
“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s risky. No one wants to be the first one to say it. That’s in every magazine quiz I’ve ever read, anyway. You are so badass.” McKenna looked at me, a newfound respect evident from her expression.
A couple hours and magazines later, we stopped at a rest stop in Rocky Mount, North Carolina. Mr. Holt sprinted to the bathroom (“I’ve been holding it since we crossed the state line!”) and Mrs. Holt went to the vending machine to get a Snickers. McKenna and I sat on a bench and watched the people coming in and out of the restrooms.
“I hope we meet boys at the beach,” McKenna sighed. “I need a self-esteem boost.”
I looked at McKenna. She was model beautiful in short chinos and a Carolina blue tank top trimmed with lace. Her skin was blemish free and tan. Her blonde hair was half up with tendrils hanging around her face and ears. She had the face of an angel and the body of Nikki Taylor. How anyone like her needed a self-esteem boost was a complete mystery to me. She was the girl that made other girls feel insecure about themselves, myself included.
“You don’t need a boy for that,” I said. “I’ll be glad to tell you that you’re hot.”
She laughed, “While I appreciate the compliment, I’d rather hear it from someone that immediately expresses a desire to make out with me.”
“Sorry, can’t help you there.”
We walked back towards the car after the Holts returned. As we piled in, McKenna said “I can’t believe Ryan Kidson said he loved you.”
“Why?” I asked. “Is it hard to believe because it’s me?”
“No!” McKenna protested as Mr. Holt pulled out of the parking space. “Not at all. It could be anyone on the planet and I would be shocked. You have to understand, I’ve never lived in a universe where Ryan and Rachel weren’t practically one word. But now it’s Ryan and Addie. And so fast. It’s just going to take getting used to. For the entire town. You haven’t even started school yet and everyone is going to know your name.”
“It’s not such a big deal,” I said. “You act like we’re Gwyneth and Brad. No one is going to give a damn about me.”
“That’s probably what Gwyneth thought. Did anyone know who she was before Brad? No. You are dating the Rutledgeville version of Brad Pitt. You’re Gwyneth. Just be prepared for the onslaught.”
“I’m not skinny enough to be Gwyneth,” I mumbled. “Or blonde enough. You’re actually closer to that ideal.”
“Well, Kyle Joel didn’t seem to be impressed with that,” McKenna said.
“But you don’t give a damn about that loser,” I said. “You are definitely meeting a boy this week. You need to get out of this delusional funk where you’re somehow the one not worthy. Kyle Joel is not worthy. I guarantee you in ten years he’s not going to have changed much from his current incarnation. And you? You’ll have trouble even remembering his last name.”
“I hope so.”
14
The Holts had rented a cottage on the beach in North Myrtle, where it was quieter. It was a duplex, so we shared half the deck and porches with the other side, which we assumed would be another family, and were not so unpleasantly surprised when we saw three shirtless college guys hanging out in the driveway, on their way to throw a Frisbee from the looks of it.
“Dream. Come. True.” McKenna whispered to me, as we practically pressed our noses against her window. Mr. Holt didn’t seem too psyched.
“The property management company told me this was for families only,” he muttered to Mrs. Holt. “I don’t need to have a bunch of drunk punks up all night when we’re trying to sleep.”
Mrs. Holt looked back at us, a knowing smile on her face, “Well, you’re the only one who feels that way, honey.”
He looked over at us and sighed. Poor Mr. Holt. He had his work cut out for him.
McKenna and I shared a small room on the end of the house that had two sets of bunk beds. We threw our luggage on the bottom of each and within ten minutes the room looked like a hurricane had hit it. Our clothes were strewn everywhere, McKenna’s Caboodle was spilled out on the dresser drawers and the attached bathroom was littered with our million hair accessories and face lotions. It looked like Bath and Bodyworks had thrown up in there.
The rest of the townhouse was decorated in Golden Girls furniture. Lots of wicker and stiff, floral couch cushions. Seashell art lined every room. The wallpaper in the kitchen was lighthouses and seagulls. It was very Myrtle Beach.
We peeked out the window which gave us a great view of the beach and the three boys, who sure enough, were throwing a Frisbee back and forth.
“So should we go out there?” asked McKenna as she looked in the mirror, running her hands through her hair. “And should I wear a bikini and a cover up or just a bikini? Or should I just wear shorts and a crop top? I don’t want to look like a try-hard.”
I laughed, “You think way too much about this stuff.”
“Well, it sets the tone for the rest of the week.” She lifted up the venetian blinds again. “I call dibs on the one that looks like Dean Cain.”
“Well, you don’t really need to call dibs,” I reminded her. “I have a boyfriend.” It felt so weird to say that sentence.
“Just saying,” she said. “Wow. We really hit the jackpot. I wonder how old they are. Let’s go find out!”
We threw on our swimsuits (McKenna chose her hot pink one, the one she’d worn at the lake) and cover ups, and casually walked down the steps of the wooden deck, our foam flip flops noisily announcing our descent.
The guys stopped throwing as we approached, each giving us a nod and a smile. Despite being a “taken” girl, I couldn’t help but enjoy the attention. The Dean Cain look-alike spoke up first.
“Where y’all from?” he asked, walking over. “I’m Brent, by the way.”
“He so looks like a Brent,” McKenna whispered to me before calling out, “We’re from Virginia! Near Richmond. How about y’all?”
“Same,” Brent said. He pointed to a blonde guy and a tall auburn haired boy who I noticed was staring right at me. “That’s Josh and that tall doofus is my brother Brandon. We go to Tech but we live outside of Charlottesville. Well, Josh and I go to Tech, Brandon’s a senior in high school this year.”
Josh and Brandon walked over, tossing the Frisbee onto the sand. My heart thumped a bit as Brandon got closer. He was incredibly tall, at least 6’5. He held out his hand.
“I’m Brandon and if anyone’s the doofus it’s Brent. He’s an engineering major so his social skills are close to non-existent.” When he
smiled I could see he had deep dimples in both cheeks.
“Brent and I have that in common,” I replied. “At least the social skills part. And I’m Addie. This is McKenna.”
McKenna stood with one hand on her hip, her cover up conveniently opened enough for the boys to check out her figure. Brent was not so discreet in his appreciation of it, eyeing her up and down.
“Well, hello, McKenna,” he said. “Pink is your color.”
“Thanks, Brent. That’s kind of you to say.”
I found it funny McKenna even bothered to call dibs. When it came to her, there was no competing. Kyle Joel really was a dumbass. I could already see she was going to have a very good week.
The five of us sauntered over to the shoreline. The boys had a couple of towels laid out and they offered us space, which we gladly accepted. Josh, who wasn’t so hard to look at himself, dived into the waves, not seeming very interested in making small talk.
“Don’t mind Josh,” Brandon said, leaning into me. “He’s kind of anti-girls at the moment. Bad breakup.”
“Oh, that sucks,” I said. The way Brandon looked at me and how close he was sitting made me realize I should probably tell him I was taken, but somehow it seemed too awkward to bring up. Besides, sitting next to another guy wasn’t so wrong. And McKenna was clearly distracted next to me. I had a feeling I would be second fiddle to Brent this week who was already flirting with her heavily on the striped towel next to us.
“Addie, I was just telling Brent,” McKenna said, her voice different than it normally would be with me and Rhiannon, “That we’re seniors this year too.”
“Oh really?” I couldn’t help saying. “Right. Seniors.”
Lying about our age. What a great way to start a romance.
Brent added, “I’m going to be a sophomore this year. It’s good to hang out with some ladies who aren’t obsessed with what frat I’m not in.”
“Frats? Ugh,” I couldn’t help but say. This seemed to be the right response.
“I like you, Addie,” Brent said, tipping his head towards me. “And I really like you, McKenna.” McKenna smiled coyly.
We’d known these guys five minutes and I could already tell McKenna was smitten. I’d never known someone that could become infatuated so easily. But that’s what happens with girls like us. We’re in love with love. So there’s just no hope.
We sat on the beach for a while until Mr. Holt called for us from the deck.
“Let’s have some lunch, ladies! Your momma ordered sandwiches.”
“Coming, Daddy!” McKenna called back. She looked over at Brent, “What are y’all up to this afternoon?”
“We were thinking of going to the amusement park tonight,” Brent said, looking over at Brandon. “As for this afternoon? Probably just wait around for you two to come back out. Pretty sure you’re the only girls over twelve on this stretch of beach.”
“And under forty,” Brandon added, smiling at me. Those damn dimples.
“We won’t be long,” McKenna said, using Brent’s shoulder to pull herself up from the sand. Brandon held out his hand for me. I took it, standing up so I could brush sand off my butt. He held onto me a beat too long.
“See ya soon, Addie.” Brandon waved as we walked away.
McKenna grabbed my arm as we quickly crossed the sand, “How hot are they? And they seem to like us, huh? I mean, do you think?”
“I definitely think Brent is into you. Very obvious. And not shocking,” I said. “But don’t ditch me for a dude, okay? Or, at least, don’t ditch me too much.”
As we walked up the stairs onto the deck, Mr. Holt stood against the sliding glass door. He was staring out at the boys on the beach who were back to throwing a Frisbee again. He didn’t look super pleased.
“Make some friends?” he asked, letting us through into the kitchen.
“Yep,” McKenna said. “They’re Virginia boys.”
“Well, just remember, this is a family vacation. I don’t want you running off with some boys and not spending time with us,” he said. Mrs. Holt looked up from her tuna melt and winked.
“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Holt said, “They’ll be plenty of family time. Let them have some fun. And those boys are very cute.”
“Yeah. Adorable.” Mr. Holt’s sarcasm was not lost on us.
McKenna ate her turkey and provolone sub faster than I had ever seen anyone eat anything. She gulped down a Sprite and then waited impatiently for me to finish my ham and swiss.
“You’re staring lasers into my soul,” I observed. “I don’t want to get indigestion. Give me some time here. They’re not going anywhere.”
But I was wrong. As soon as we sauntered out to the beach twenty minutes later, they were nowhere to be seen. And the Jeep Wrangler that had been parked next to us was gone too.
“Dammit,” McKenna huffed, sitting down in the sand. She’d changed into a turquoise two piece with matching flip flops.
“They’ll be back,” I said. “Geez, you really need some love, huh?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “It’s hard seeing your two best friends have boyfriends. I feel like everyone on the planet has someone but me.”
“But why is that so important?” I asked. “You’re probably going to have plenty of boyfriends, McKenna. You’re sixteen, not some old spinster.”
“I know but I’m only sixteen once. And all the Sweet Valley High books I’ve read since fourth grade told me that it’s supposed to be your most important year. I’m ready for my love affair.”
I rolled my eyes, “Was that Sweet Valley High or Danielle Steele you’ve been reading? I mean, a love affair? You sound like a character on Melrose Place.”
“I’m just saying,” she continued, shifting the sand with her toes, “I want to have a story. I’m ready for mine to begin.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon laying out. When the heat would get to be too much we’d jump into the ocean. The salt made our hair wavy and we were giggling over a Cosmopolitan article when we noticed the boys were back.
“Hello, ladies.” Brent sat down closest to McKenna. He had a shirt on now, something that was disappointing to both of us.
“Hi,” we both said. Brandon sat on the side closest to me, a brown paper bag in his hand.
“We came down here to invite you over to our place tonight,” Brandon said. “We have somehow lucked into some beer and wine coolers. I know it’s kind of lame but we’d be glad to make dinner for y’all. And just hang out and stuff.”
I looked up at Brandon, my hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun that was directly behind him, “What happened to the amusement park?”
“They closed it down!” Brent exclaimed. “Such a disappointment. But that was our plan A before we knew two very beautiful girls would be our neighbors this week.”
I rolled my eyes, “Right. Where’s poor Josh?”
“He’s in his room on the phone with his ex,” Brent said. “I wish they would just either get back together or stop talking to one another. It’s pretty damn irritating.”
McKenna and I exchanged glances.
“Well,” she said. “We can’t let my parents know about the alcohol. But as long as we keep the party to a dull roar, I don’t see why we couldn’t come over for a bit.”
Brent smiled, “We can be dull. We’re very good at that. Right, Brandon?”
“Speak for yourself,” Brandon said. He was still staring at me, which made me slightly uncomfortable. Mostly because I kind of liked it.
“Alright, sounds good!” Brent popped back up. “See you around seven?”
“Sure,” we both said.
The hot brother duo meandered back to their side of the house, leaving us to contemplate what we were getting ourselves into.
The Holts decided to go on a date being that we had our own plans. Mrs. Holt came downstairs in a long skirt and very frilly blouse, her perfume trailing behind her. Mr. Holt followed after her looking a little uncomfortable in khakis and a collared shi
rt. Probably because the shirt was tucked in, making his stomach paunch out.
“Tomorrow night we have dinner as a family,” he said to both of us, his voice stern. “Your momma and I are going to a seafood buffet and movie. You are not to leave the confines of this property while we’re gone. You are absolutely not to enter any bedroom with another male. Kitchen and living room. That’s it. Understood? I still don’t love the idea-“
“Sweetheart,” Mrs. Holt interrupted, “We need to get going. They’re fine. Enjoy a night with your wife.”
He took one last look at us. We tried to put our most innocent faces on but he didn’t seem to buy it.
“Oh, Addie,” Mrs. Holt said as they were walking out the door, “Call your momma and just check in, okay? There’s a phone card on the counter.”
“Sure thing,” I said, feeling guilty I hadn’t already called.
As soon as the door was shut, McKenna was a ball of excitement.
“We’ve gotta get ready!” she squealed.
“You go ahead. I’ll be there in a sec, I’m gonna call Mom and Grandma.”
I listened to her barrel up the steps to our room. The radio switched on, and a No Doubt song screamed down to me in the kitchen.
“Shut the door!” I called up. “I’m not going to be able to hear a damn thing.”
The door slammed shut and muted Gwen Stefani. Slightly.
I dialed the million numbers from the phone card and then my own phone number, listening to it ring so long that I started to get nervous. But finally, Mom picked up.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, relieved.
“Hey, Addie! We were just wondering when we might hear from you,” she said. “Grandma says hello.”
“How’s she doing?” I asked. “Everything okay?”
“She’s just fine,” Mom reassured me. “She took a great nap today and we sat out back and read together for a while.”
“Good,” I smiled through the receiver, “That makes me happy.”
“Y’all have a good drive down?” It sounded like she was distracted.
“Yeah, fine. What are you doing?”