A Sweet Life-kindle

by Andre, Bella

  “Your wish is my command.” Preston jumps to his feet and trots toward the wetter sand.

  “What are you doing?” I yell. Apparently, I’m going to have to chase after him if I want to know.

  “I’m going to build you a castle,” he answers as if it’s a normal response.

  “No, you’re not,” I say, panicking.

  “Yes, I think I am. I just need to find a good place. Though, I can’t start on it now, what with me not having a bucket and all, but don’t you worry. By the end of the trip, you will have your castle.” He looks pleased with this idea.

  A tear spills down my cheek. I turn to walk away, but he catches me.

  “Amanda, I'm kidding. I don’t have to build you a castle.” He looks concerned as he notices my tears.

  Embarrassed, I turn my head and try to hide the emotion now ravaging my face. “It’s not your fault; I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I sit in a huff on the sand.

  “Castles make you cry?” Preston interjects. “No. That’s normal for girl, right?” He nudges me with his elbow, making me laugh.

  “It’s just,” I start to explain, “my dad used to call me his little princess. We went to the beach every year. Seaside, Oregon, was the spot,” I say, laughing at the memory. Preston listens intently as I continue. “We had lots of traditions, but one of them was to build a sandcastle. I would look forward to it every year. Not just because of the castle, though he rocked it.” I laughed. “But it was special to have time with him. He always told me that the man I marry better know how to build sandcastles or else…” I roll my eyes in remembrance. “When he died, the trip was already booked. My mom thought it would be good for us to go in honor of him.”

  I push myself off the ground and begin to walk, knowing Preston will follow. “I built him a sandcastle.” Shrugging, I turn to Preston. “I build him one every year. I want to think he can see it from heaven. So, that’s why sandcastles make me cry. You must think I’m emotionally unstable. You can say it.” My eyes rise to meet his gaze, and I notice he has tears in his eyes.

  Preston pulls me into his chest and lets me cry. It’s not until I open my eyes that I realize he has led me all the way back to our room. Without a word, he draws a warm bath for me in the tub and leaves.

  Who is this guy? There’s no way I can figure him out, but at this moment, there is nowhere I would rather be than with him.

  After a long bath, I sink into bed with dreams of sandcastles floating around in my head. Sandcastles and a certain someone who offered to build me one. Someone who is both the most irritating and the most handsome man on the planet.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I wake up the following morning with a pounding headache that is not remedied by the loud grinding going on in the kitchen. I open my doors and growl as I see Preston making coffee and pulling pastries off a large tray. What? He orders breakfast for us too?

  “Morning, sunshine! Get in a fight with a semi-truck?” Preston says as I sink into the barstool. I let out a low grunt before holding my hand out for coffee.

  “Bite me,” I say before I take my first sip.

  “That can be arranged.” He smiles as he hands me a hot pastry.

  “You’re like Diet Pepsi,” I say.

  “Um, I prefer being compared to things like wine, but okay, Diet Pepsi, it is,” he says sitting down next to me.

  I can’t help that my voice is extremely low in the morning, so I just go for it. “Fine wine means you get better with age. Diet Pepsi is the beverage that pretends to be something else, but actually it’s just pop,” I say, meeting his gaze.

  “I’m sorry. Do you always talk philosophy in the morning?” He shakes his head. “We’ll have to fix that when we get married.”

  My eyes bug out as if he has just said my coffee had poison in it. “WE ARE NOT GETTING MARRIED!” I yell a little too loud for my headache.

  “Ooo, this is fun! See, I’ve decided that I like bothering you. I am attaching myself to you for forever. Like a leech.” He looks bemused as I continue to glare at him.

  “Leeches suck the life out of people,” I state dryly.

  “Yes, I believe they do,” he answers. “So, why Diet? Why can’t I be normal Pepsi?”

  At least he can keep up with me this much. “Because,” I say while grabbing the pastry with one hand and my coffee with the other, “Diet makes people think it’s better for you when actually the fake sugar causes cancer. So in reality, it’s just as bad as the real thing. Only people don’t know it, because on the outside it says Zero Calories.” I’m shaking my head, why doesn’t he get this? I walk out toward the patio and sit with my breakfast.

  “So wait.” He follows me. “Are you saying I’m a fake? Not as good as the real thing, even though I pretend to be?” he asks innocently. He puts his hand over his heart with a wounded look. “I think you’re projecting,” he says as takes the newspaper off the chair.

  “Wow, thanks, doctor,” I answer with sarcasm.

  “No, seriously. I think you want me to be fake so you don’t have to like me. It would just be easier for you. You wouldn’t have to put yourself out there and be vulnerable.” He looks at me seriously then goes on. “Like I said before, you’re afraid of me. But it’s okay. I’ll get you through it.” Suddenly he gets up and goes back into the kitchen.

  How in the world did this conversation turn on me so fast?

  I’m scowling after him when I hear a knock on the door. Preston rushes to open it and in walks Kristin and Brad. Kristin immediately walks toward me and sits down, taking my coffee and pastry in the process.

  “Whoa, rough night?” Brad asks as he joins us on the patio.

  “You have no idea,” I say, squinting my eyes toward Preston, who gives me the I-have-no-idea-what-you-are-talking-about look as I pull my coffee from Kristin’s hands.

  Kristin looks as animated as ever. “You will NEVER guess what happened last night!” she says, looking back and forth between us.

  “I’m sure I could.” Preston coughs to himself, masking the words, while I hide a chuckle.

  “We saw THEM!” Kristin exclaims, throwing her hands in the air. “And they were so nice, and we brought them champagne, and they toasted to us!” She is now yelling, making my headache all the worse.

  “You don’t say!” Preston plays along, making me smile even harder.

  “Yes!” Kristin says, totally not getting Preston’s sarcasm. “And you know what’s so great?” She turns back to me. “I hear they’re going to be staying the rest of the week!”

  “They are?” I say through clenched teeth, glaring at Preston.

  “Yes!” Kristin does a little fist pump.

  I never knew she was so into celebrities — must be the new-mom thing. She definitely needs to get out more, poor thing.

  “So, you guys ready to go or what?” Brad asks, looking directly at me and my train-wreck face and just-rolled-out-of-bed clothes.

  “Ready for…?” I ask.

  “Snorkeling,” Brad says, standing up. “I thought Preston told you. The boat leaves in like a half-hour.”

  I bite my lip so I won’t lunge for Preston’s face then smile. “Of course, I’ll go grab my stuff.”

  I hurry into the bathroom, throw on my swimsuit, brush my teeth, put on waterproof mascara and am out the door. I’m wearing my new swimsuit cover-up as well as my giant sunglasses to hide my swollen eyes.

  “For later,” Preston whispers and drops something into my beach bag.

  Okay — I know I am supposed to hate him, but it’s hard not to feel totally 007 right now, with us sneaking around together. I mean it’s fun pretending to be someone else, and it’s not like I am going to marry the guy. Clearly he’s not marriage material. Plus, he’s probably just stringing me along until he can embarrass me like I did him; although, in his defense, he had many opportunities to do so already.

  Today he’s wearing longboard shorts and a tight muscle tee. His skin is more bronzed than mine, mak
ing me all-the-more-pathetic-looking next to him.

  We drive our rental car to the spot where the boat is waiting and get out. Preston and I are the last to leave the car, but only because Brad is chasing down Kristin as she charges toward the boat. Like I said, she needs to get out more.

  “I think you’re wine,” Preston says and takes my bag from the trunk.

  “What do you mean?” I fall into step with him, and we head toward the boat.

  “I mean,” he says — Wait, is he turning red? — “you are anything but Diet.” It was as if the mask, which was once in place — the mask dripping with selfish pride and sarcasm — had fallen away, and it is just us. Me and Preston. I stop and look him square in the face and smile. He returns the smile, and before I know it, he leans over and kisses my cheek.

  “But don’t go around telling people about this side of me. It might ruin my reputation,” he says, Then he playfully trips me as we walk onto the dock.

  “That’s the last thing you should be worried about,” I say, returning the trip and causing his flip flop to sail into the water.

  “Go get it,” he orders seriously.

  “No, you get it.”

  “Children?” Kristin comes up to us. “A problem?”

  “Yes.” I point at Preston. “He just called me stupid and tripped me. When he tripped me, his flip flop fell into the water, and now he wants me to go get it. And you know how much I hate the water.” I stomp my foot for effect and shed a fake tear.

  All the while, Preston stares at me mouth open in shock.

  “Preston! Be nice to her! She has a legitimate fear. Now stop being a bully and get your shoe out of the water. We’re going to be late for our snorkeling appointment.” She pulls me into her side and escorts me safely to the boat.

  I turn quickly to stick my tongue out at Preston.

  He smirks then wades through the shallow water to retrieve his flip flop.

  Two can play that game buddy, I think.

  ***

  I should never underestimate him. I don’t know how I get myself into these situations. Honestly, I don’t. I mean, sometimes, in hindsight, I can see myself make the choice, and I want to yell at myself to stop: YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING! But it’s always too late, and, seriously, how was I supposed to know the boat actually has a high dive?

  Stupid Preston and his dares. He knows how much I hate water. Yet here I am, standing on what I would like to refer to as the Plank of Death, waiting to jump into the dark abyss.

  “Jump! Jump! Jump!” I hear the voices chant, but all I feel like doing is passing out. Heights and water do not mix. This is at least thirty feet, and I feel like I might be sick.

  “You know you don’t have to do this,” Preston teases and leans over the edge next to me.

  “Shut up!” I squeak. “I’m doing this.”

  “Smart girl.” He jumps from the side.

  You see, it happened like this. Preston dared me to fit a whole chip into my mouth at the snack bar on the boat, which — let’s be honest — was a stupid dare. I did it then proceeded to dare him to take a swig of Tabasco sauce. We went around the boat, daring each other to do things until we reached the top, where he noticed the high dive. He immediately suckered me into it before I had the chance to say no. I mean, I was winning the game. It was PRESTON who didn’t’ have enough guts to down the whole bottle of Tabasco. I’m the one who proved it and did it myself. I was winning… until the high-dive incident. Now, here I am, shaking at the top of this giant boat, listening to complete strangers chant my name.

  Far below me, I can see Preston treading water and joining in the chant. I immediately start to pray for a thunderstorm. Maybe lightning will strike his smug little face. The visual brings a smile to my lips. Okay, I can do this. I can do this. I close my eyes and jump. I feel my stomach heave as I hit the water, forgetting to pencil my legs and making a big slap. The sting runs all the way down my now-throbbing red legs. I swim up, gasping for air, and see Preston swimming toward me like he’s fighting for a role in Bay Watch.

  “Nice,” he says breathlessly as he notes my shaking body.

  “I…”

  “Hate me, I know. Save it for later though. We should get you and your bruised body back on the boat. I thought I told you to pencil it?” He laughs and swims ahead so he can pull me onto the back of the boat.

  “I think you’re hazardous to her health, buddy,” Brad says while Preston pulls me onto the boat. I feel like a beached whale.

  My legs are not just red anymore. They are now swelling to the size of… Well, I don’t want to give you that visual. It’s too depressing.

  “Hey, at least you did it!” Preston tries to sound encouraging.

  I give him the look of death reserved for only the worst of mankind.

  “So not the point,” I say, teeth chattering. Suddenly, I don’t feel so well.

  “Let’s go inside and get you dry.” He helps me to my feet.

  We move inside to the covered part of the boat and sit. I watch in awe as Preston winks at the snack-bar lady, who then brings us free snacks.

  “Sure you aren’t a wizard?” I ask. Must be the trauma of the fall talking.

  “A wizard? As in Harry Potter? I feel like I should be offended.” He hands me my drink.

  “You could be, but he is the best magician at Hogwarts,” I say defensively.

  “Please don’t tell me you’ve read the entire series of Harry Potter.” He laughs and shoots me a look reserved for small children who’ve been naughty.

  “Fine, I have NOT read the entire series… only parts.” I sip my ginger ale. At least he had enough common sense to bring me something to calm my stomach.

  “So, why would I be a wizard anyway?”

  “The magical powers you have over people. It’s wizardy,” I say.

  “Wizardy is not a word.”

  “It’s in my dictionary.”

  “Doubtful you’ve ever even seen one,” he retorts.

  “Whatever.” I cross my arms.

  “What are you? Five?” he says, noticing my body language.

  “Six. Now go away.”

  “Is that any way to treat your future husband?” He leans closer, and I can feel his body heat radiating from him.

  “I would never marry you.” I look down at my hands. My voice sounds surprisingly convincing.

  “But you would at least go out with me?” He leans closer to my lips.

  “When pigs fly,” I say, glaring at him.

  “Good to know.” He gets up from his seat and clasps his hands together. “Now for our plan.”

  I’m confused, I look around as if to ask “What exactly is our plan?” But he is already digging through my bag.

  “Ah-ha!” He pulls out a black bathing suit with rhinestones. “Go put this on with the sunglasses and high heels and meet me out here.”

  “We are not doing this now,” I say flatly and stare at the gorgeous swimsuit.

  “Yes we are. Remember? You promised? Plus, Brad and Angelina are staying the whole week. I figure we can change quick then make an appearance as we are leaving the boat in about ten minutes.” He checks his watch. “Make that nine minutes. You in?”

  I bite my lip. He’s right. It was fun last night. “Fine.” I snatch the swimsuit out of his hands. “But no kissing this time.”

  He pulls my body back toward his and whispers into my hair, “I won’t kiss you unless you ask.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” I pull away and walk off toward the girls’ bathroom.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Our boat arrives within the next nine minutes. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this again. I don’t know what it is about Preston, but I can’t bring myself to say no to him. And the more I get to know him, the more I think he might actually be just a good guy with a bad-guy habit. I look in the mirror and smile. Okay, so maybe I won’t marry him, but one date can't hurt.

  I open up the bathroom door and scurry t
o the meeting place to find Brad Pitt, I mean, Preston waiting for me. We link arms and traipse off the boat as if we own the place. People are watching and taking pictures. Then I see Kristin squint at me questioningly as if to ask Do I know you? I quickly duck my head into Preston’s arm and walk faster toward the other side of the dock.

  “Did you tell them?” I ask Preston as we near the next corner.

  He’s grinning from ear to ear. “Of course. They think you aren't feeling well, and we’re going to stay behind to talk with the on-call doctor. They have no idea. Trust me.”

  I nod my head and smile as we pass a few more starstruck teenagers on the dock.

  “Beach?” he asks, leading me down toward the water.

  “Actually,” I say, stopping him, ”I want food. I mean, is that okay?”

  “A girl after my own heart,” he teases, and he pulls me back toward the dock and into the first restaurant on the boardwalk.

  It is one of those little restaurants with sand as a floor, and I love it.

  “Spill,” I say, taking a sip of water. I am actually enjoying all the weird stares and camera-phones pointed our way. I think I could get used to this.

  “What?” he asks, confused.

  “Why are you being nice to me, when all you actually want to do is get back at me for what I did to you in high school?” There. I said it.

  “Wow. You still thinking about that? Because it was such a long time ago…” He smiles.

  “Ha. Ha. Very funny,” I mock.

  “Amanda, you need to learn how to trust people. My plan is not to date you then dump you in front of the entire school. That would just be weird. Plus, we aren’t even in school anymore, and it would be a lot of work to get all of those people together again for a reunion.”

  The man has a point. “Sure. Okay, if you say so.” I grab a tortilla chip from the basket. Mexican food in Hawaii? That’s just weird. As I dip into the salsa, the table begins to vibrate strangely. “Oh my gosh! It’s an earthquake!” I shriek.

  His look is anything but panicked. “Um… try… a cell phone?” He picks up his phone and waves it in the air at me.