by Maree Green
Taking a sip of my beer, I tried to work out how I could get her to have a proper conversation with me, then I laughed at the thought. Who would’ve thought I’d ever have to worry about how to get a girl to talk to me? It seemed so ridiculous that it was funny.
As the sound of the front door slamming closed pierced the air, I paused my thoughts, waiting. A second later, Daniel and Amy appeared.
“Oh my God,” Amy said. “We seriously only just made it back in time.”
I was confused. Where did they go?
Daniel sat down and met my gaze. “We met the girl.”
That’s all it took for him to have my complete attention. I hoped he wasn’t going to give me any bad news. “And?”
He rubbed his chin, worry creasing his brow. “She’s here for at least a month.”
I tried to feel the disappointment his words should bring, but it was overshadowed by the happiness singing in my veins. I was a glutton for punishment, apparently.
“Jesus,” Amy said, rolling her eyes. “You have no sense of self-preservation, do you?”
“What do you mean?” I said, doing my best to look innocent.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I mean, you’re not going to be so excited when the street is crawling with hundreds of screaming girls, and you can’t go out surfing because there’ll be a dozen creeps with telescopic cameras clicking away at your every move.”
I knew she was right, and I should be concerned about the possibility of that happening, but that was my everyday life. I was used to it.
“Do you want to know what Mom always says to me?” I said softly. “If I stressed about every moment being destroyed by the public, then every moment would be destroyed by the public—regardless of whether they were there to see it or not.”
Her gaze searched mine as she allowed my words to sink in. “Your mom’s pretty smart.”
I smirked. “She has her moments. But don’t tell her I said that.”
Daniel sighed. “So, what do you want to do?”
Dropping my feet to the floor, I sat forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “I don’t know, man. I really don’t think she’s going to be a problem. Call it a gut feeling if you want, but there’s just something about her that makes me think it’ll work out.” I shrugged. “Let’s just take it a day at a time, all right? I know we’ve all been looking forward to this vacation, but this is just a part of my life. I can either let it piss me off, or I can go with it.”
I watched him press his lips together. I knew he didn’t like not having a plan in place, but this wasn’t something I wanted to label and categorize. I wanted to experience spontaneity for a change. It just felt like the right thing to do.
He nodded his acceptance and pushed himself to his feet. “All right. But, just so you know, I’ll be making a plan in case the worst happens.”
I grinned. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
As they disappeared inside, I felt content with my answer. I didn’t know what was going to happen any more than the next man, but I refused to stress about it any more. Whatever was going to happen, would happen. And I would roll along with it.
Chapter 11
Olivia
The night after Aunt Jenny came home, we decided to stay up and watch old movies in her small home theater. She’d been a massive fan of Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn her whole life, and regularly felt the need to instill some respect of the classics in me whenever she got the chance.
It was close to dawn when we finally managed to get ourselves into bed, so neither of us made it up until eleven o’clock the next morning. I was a little horrified about the time, but Aunt Jenny just laughed. We sat quietly eating our breakfast—or maybe it was lunch—like we were both seriously hung over or something. It was my first real taste of how different life on my own might be like.
When I finished off the last bit of my fruit salad, Aunt Jenny took my plate and rinsed it in the sink. “So, what do you want to do today?” she asked.
I raised my eyebrow at her. All I’d heard when she got home from LA, was how much shit she had to do to fix what Jeremy had stuffed up. “Don’t you have to work?”
Her lips pressed together as she drew in a long, slow breath. “Yes,” she said cautiously. “But you’re on vacation. I should be doing stuff with you.”
“I’m okay. Dad told me you’d have work to do while I was here. I feel lucky just to be in such a beautiful place and not have any chores to do.”
She eyed me dubiously for a while before answering. “All right. If you’re sure.” I nodded to reassure her, but she still looked as though she was struggling with the whole thing. “Okay. I’ll just go get ready.”
I sat in the living room after she left, listening to the sounds of the ocean outside. The sky outside the window was a soft icy blue, with barely a cloud in sight. You really wouldn’t have known there had been a storm here the night before. The trees were mostly still, except for a slight flutter of a leaf every now and again. It was the perfect weather for a walk.
The new denim shorts Aunt Jenny had bought me were wonderfully soft, like they’d already been worn for years, and sat low on my hips. They fit very snugly, which I’d been a little worried about, but Aunt Jenny had reassured me it was the way teenagers liked to wear them these days. As much as I didn’t care about trends anymore, I also didn’t want to stand out like an oddity.
Grabbing one of the tanks we’d bought to go with them—a baby blue one that Aunt Jenny said matched my eyes—I ripped the tag off and pulled it on. I didn’t worry about shoes. Barefoot was always the best option for the beach.
Leaving my cell on the table beside the bed, I wandered down the grassy trail to the beach. The sand was cool between my toes, but it felt nice as I made my way along the golden stretch to the rocks at the other end. When I was almost directly in front of the other house, the boy came walking down the trail, surprising me. He stopped when he reached the spot where the grass ended, and just stared out at the ocean, a frown on his pretty face.
I slowed when I got close enough to talk. “No surfing today?”
His gaze flashed my way and he smiled, but the curious crease to his brow, and the way his head tilted to the side a little, made me think he was assessing me for something. “I think my board might get broken if I tried to take on those dumpers,” he said, his eyes darting back out to the ocean.
I looked out at the waves, trying to determine how they might’ve looked different from the waves I’d seen yesterday. They did look a little more explosive when they broke, I guessed. Meeting his gaze again, I decided it was time to at least know his name. I wasn’t sure how much his friends would’ve told him, if anything, so I just went with the whole story.
“Um . . . I’m Olivia, by the way. I’m staying with my aunt until my parents get back from overseas,” I said, gesturing toward Aunt Jenny’s house.
He searched my face for a while, looking for something I didn’t know the answer to. His hands were buried deep in the pockets of his cargo shorts. He looked like he was trying to make a decision of some sort. Eventually, he took a breath. “Ah . . . I’m Joshua.”
Joshua. Hmm . . . I narrowed my eyes and cocked my head to the side, trying to fit the name with the face. I just couldn’t see it.
“What?” he asked.
My cheeks flushed a little. God, what was I going to say? I’m sorry, I just don’t think your name suits you. “Nothing.”
“Just say it,” he said, his voice a little forceful, although more resigned than anything else.
“It’s just . . . you don’t really look like a Joshua.” I pursed my lips as I looked him over again. His face seemed to have changed into one of surprise. “Josh, maybe. That suits you better.”
He stared at me for a while longer with the same surprised look on his face, then he burst out laughing. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
I frowned, biting my bottom lip, and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
offend you. Joshua’s a nice name. I like it. I just think Josh fits you better. It’s more relaxed and casual.”
His eyes never left my face as I spoke. They gazed at me with what looked like suspicion. I didn’t understand it at all. And this was why Aunt Jenny was so very wrong. “Um . . . it’s nice to meet you anyway, Joshua. I’ll be on my way now, so I don’t embarrass myself any more.” I flashed him a bright smile as an offer of apology, and turned to leave.
“You can call me Josh,” he said, halting my escape. “I don’t mind. Most of my friends do.”
I smiled in response, still poised, ready for a quick getaway.
“Would you mind if I joined you on your walk?” he said suddenly.
Okay. Not what I was expecting. “Oh, um . . . sure, I guess that would be fine. I didn’t really have a destination in mind, though. I was just going to enjoy the peacefulness.”
“Sounds perfect.” He smiled at me, then came to stand beside me, nodding his head in the direction I was heading.
I blinked, realizing I was just standing there like an idiot. Taking a step forward, I started slowly walking as he moved beside me. Glancing back at his house, I was startled to find the guy who’d come to my door yesterday staring down at me from the balcony. I was about to wave, but the intense expression on his face didn’t look anywhere near as friendly as it had the day before.
“So, where are you from?” he asked casually, interrupting my worrying.
“Oh, I’m originally from Salt Creek Beach, but I’ve been living in Uganda for the last six years.”
He stopped walking altogether and turned fully around to stare at me. “In Uganda?” he asked with a touch of incredulity.
I laughed at his shocked expression. “Yeah, my parents joined this World Aid group when I was thirteen and decided we should go help out as a family. We were stationed in a shanty town just north of Gulu. It was a pretty wild experience.”
He was still staring at me, disbelief coloring his expression. “You were living in a shanty town?”
I didn’t laugh this time. The memory of the people I’d met, and come to love, who lived in that shanty town, made me too emotional. “Mmmhmm. I worked with them, went to school with them, helped them try to cultivate the land to feed them, gave them medical relief, tried to encourage the girls to stay in school. I even entertained them.” I laughed at that last part. Some of those girls had become some of Taylor Swift’s biggest fans.
Josh was quiet for a while as he watched me, then he cleared his throat softly. “Entertained them how?”
I gave him a knowing glance full of self-importance. “With my musical prowess, of course.”
He looked taken aback for a second, but then I laughed, and his expression turned to confusion. “You’re a singer?”
“Oh, God no,” I said quickly. “I learned the guitar when I was a kid, so it was just a way to help keep spirits up. The younger ones liked it. Some of them even learned to play a bit themselves.”
He shook his head. “Wow. That’s . . . incredible. I think I’m a little speechless right now.”
I blushed. I didn’t really see it that way, so I didn’t say anything in response. We started walking again, this time in silence. I guessed he was trying to wrap his mind around it all or something. After a while, he cleared his throat again. “So, six years. I’m assuming you came home for vacations and stuff?”
“Oh, no. We never felt the need.”
He frowned a little, as if in thought. “So, what about your own entertainment? Did you get to go to the movies, or read the typical girly magazines? You would’ve kept in contact with your friends, surely?”
I laughed a little at that. “Nope, nope, and nope. We did put on movie nights every now and again, but they were from an old video collection left from the many people before us. VHS and all. I’m pretty sure everything in there was pre-millennia. And girly mags?” I gave him a withering look. “The last thing I wanted to do was look at the rich and famous in glorious locations, while I was standing knee-deep in mud.”
“And friends?” he asked.
I sighed. “I tried. We used to e-mail and text, but after a while our contact grew less and less, until it just stopped altogether. And to be honest, I think I was actually glad, you know? All they ever wanted to talk about was which boys they thought were hot, who I was missing out on drooling over, and which celebrities they’d like to do. After spending the day trying to convince a fourteen-year-old girl that it would be better for her to come to school than go sleep with some AIDS-infested forty-year-old for ten dollars, I really couldn’t stand listening to them.”
He stopped walking again, so I did too. I gave him a questioning look, wondering what he was doing. He was just standing there, staring at me. I couldn’t even decipher his expression, but it gave me a chance to gaze at him unabashedly. He really was very good-looking.
Suddenly, Aunt Jenny’s idea of a little holiday fling didn’t seem so ridiculous. If only I could be bold enough to follow through with it.
Chapter 12
Josh
I was honestly speechless. This girl had actually rendered me mute.
Taking a minute to gather my thoughts, I gave her a warm smile. “Wow. I think I’m actually a little in awe of you.”
Her cheeks filled with a soft pinky color. It was just beautiful. She was just beautiful. Without makeup, without her hair styled or straightened, without any sparkling accessories. She was simply perfect the way she was.
She shook her head and laughed. “I’m not special, Josh. I’m just an ordinary nineteen-year-old girl. That’s it.”
I inhaled deeply. Fuck. She had no idea. And that threw my emotions completely off kilter. And as for being ordinary . . . she was no more ordinary than I was, but her uniqueness was much more remarkable than mine. Much more.
Without any words between us, we both turned and started the slow walk back again. “So, what brings you back?” I asked.
She groaned a little. “My parents decided it was time I carved my own path in life. To be honest, I think they’ve just had enough and wanted to come help with things in their own backyard, so to speak.” She inhaled deeply. “So, after the summer, I’m off to my first paid job.” She threw me a withering look, then laughed. “Wish me luck.”
I laughed at her carefree view of the situation. God, she was so easy to talk to. “Where are you going to be working?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Dad got me a job at a magazine called World Aid Matters. It’s a humanitarian magazine that mostly focuses on the work U-WAG does.”
I frowned. “U-WAG?”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, laughing. “United World Aid Group. I’ve always just called it U-WAG for short.”
“Ah, I see. So is this something you’re interested in, then? Journalism?” I asked.
She wobbled her head side to side. “Not really. I love writing, but I’m a daydreamer. I love fiction. This is just a job until I can get a full-time writing gig.”
Her smile was contagious. I could instantly tell that writing was her passion. “That’s great. Have you written anything yet?”
“Heaps. I write all the time. I’ve had a few short stories published in a couple of magazines, so that was a big thing for me. What about you? Do you live here, or are you just vacationing?” she asked.
Her expression was so blasé. She had no idea how complicated her question was for me. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I really didn’t want her to know who I was, either. For the first time in I couldn’t remember how long, I was just a guy. Having a normal conversation. With a girl who looked at me with just kindness and curiosity. “I’m just on vacation for a little while before I have to go back to work.”
She nodded. “What do you do?”
I inhaled a deep breath. “I’m actually an actor.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Really? I hear that’s a hard industry to crack. Do you get much work?”
I tried to keep my expression neutral. “
It’s regular enough, I guess.”
She laughed then. “I’d ask if you’re in anything I’ve seen, but I haven’t seen anything new in six years.”
I laughed, a little relieved she wasn’t pushing the issue.
“Who’s your idol? Who do you aspire to be like?” she asked, her head cocking to the side as she looked at me.
That was an easy question. “Tom Hanks or Robert De Niro.”
She nodded, her face thoughtful. “Yeah, I can see that. I think it’s great that you’re doing what you love. My parents have always told me to do what I enjoy—that it doesn’t matter about the money, because what’s the point in having a lot of money if you’re not happy, right? I think that’s a pretty good motto.”
I pursed my lips, trying and failing to hide a smile. “It is.” And I was. I loved what I did. The whole lack of privacy thing was a definite downside, but I didn’t think it overshadowed my love of acting. As we climbed over the rocks and back onto our beach, I smiled. When did it become our beach?
When we reached the stretch of beach that fronted my house, she slowed, but I wasn’t ready to let her go yet, so I kept walking with her.
“I met Daniel and Amy yesterday,” she said, looking up to the house, where all the guys now stood, pretending not to be watching my every move. “They seem really nice. Are they friends or family?”
“Friends,” I said, purposely keeping my gaze away from them. “I went to school with Amy and Ryan, Daniel’s brother.”
“Their baby is adorable. She’s so tiny.”
“Yeah, Mae’s precious. She was a preemie. She’s lucky to be here. Of course, she gets spoiled ridiculously.” I laughed at how true that was.