South beach (14 page)

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CHAPTER EIGHT

Surprises

The insistent ringing of Holly's cell phone woke the girls at ten the next morning.

"Damn it," Alexa groaned, pulling the sheet up over her head. It was probably Holly's obsessive-compulsive parents doing their daily check-in.

Rubbing her eyes, Holly stumbled out of bed and yanked the phone from her little black bag, where she'd left it the night before.

'"Lo?" she mumbled, blinking herself awake.

"Holly? Am I calling too early?"

That voice. Much deeper than she'd remembered it from three years back, but with the same smooth timbre and hint of a Spanish accent. Now, she was completely alert.

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"Hi, Diego," Holly said, trying to remain composed. "No, we were up."

Of course it's Diego!
Alexa fumed silently from her bed.
First he ruins my night -- and now my morning.

"Cool," Diego was saying. "You took off so fast last night. I didn't even get a chance to say 'bye."

"I know," Holly said, shooting a death glare at Alexa's shape under the sheet.

"Anyway, I wanted to check in and make sure Ida was okay about the car," Diego added.

"My grandmother?" Holly replied. She'd almost forgotten about the car; in the harsh light of morning, last night's events seemed hazy. "I didn't call her yet. I haven't really started my day," she admitted sheepishly.

She heard a smile in Diego's voice. "What were your plans for today?" he asked.

"Oh, this and that," Holly replied.
Calm,
she told herself.
Zen-like calm.

"I'm around this morning," Diego said casually. "Would you want to meet up?"

Holly wanted to throw down the phone and turn cartwheels across the small room. But that wouldn't exactly be too smooth, considering Alexa wasn't supposed to know how she felt about Diego.

"Sure," Holly replied lightly, as if she made dates with boys every day. "What do you want to do?"

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"There's this new exhibit at the Latin American Art Museum in Little Havana that I've been wanting to check out," Diego said. "We could drive over there."

Holly bit her lip, hesitating. She wasn't much for museums. And if she and Diego were going to hang out, she wanted to be able to really
talk
to him. To tell him about her life now, and find out about his. It would be hard for them to reconnect while whispering in a sterile gallery.

"Or we could just grab some coffee," Diego offered after Holly had been silent for several seconds.

"Well," Holly replied, feeling torn. Having coffee with Diego seemed almost
too
intimate and chatty; sitting across from him at a small table meant they'd be forced to make constant conversation. Holly wanted to do something in-between -- something that felt neutral and safe. Something that would keep her in motion.

"Do you feel like going for a bike ride?" Holly suggested, sitting up straighter. She loved biking: her strong legs working the pedals, the sun warming her hair, the sense of control as she steered the handlebars. Plus, she and Diego had gone bike-riding a few times during that week in June; it might be kind of sweet to recreate their shared activity.

Diego agreed to the biking plan, and they decided to meet at the Bicycle Center on 5
th
street at eleven

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o'clock. Holly shut her cell phone and flopped back on her pillow, in a daze.

"Why are you seeing him today?" Alexa asked disgustedly, her voice muffled by the sheet over her head.

"Oh, just to catch up on old times," Holly replied blithely, as if Diego were nothing more than a childhood chum. Just like she and Alexa were.

"Well, don't forget our shopping date," Alexa said, scooting farther under the sheet.

Right,
Holly thought. Darn. She'd planned to be decked out in a tiny bikini when she saw Diego again. But she wouldn't have time to get one in the next hour. It was fine, she assured herself. Bikinis weren't really right for bike-riding, anyway. She'd simply have to wear the cutest shorts and tank top she owned.

An hour later, Holly and Diego were biking down the cement promenade that ran along the beach. Holly had decided on a red tank and camouflage short shorts, and dabbed on a bit of her own sheer lip gloss.
I've never given so much thought to my clothes before,
Holly realized as she looked down to examine her berry-red Adidas.

"Hey, slow down, okay?" Diego said, laughing. "This isn't a race, girl."

Holly noticed how fast and hard she'd been pedaling. She couldn't help it; her normal pace was

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practically warp speed. She slowed down to match Diego's and gave him an apologetic smile.

Diego didn't have his glasses on this morning -- contacts, he'd explained when they'd met at the bike rental place -- so Holly could admire his soulful, night-colored eyes. His straight black hair was boyishly tousled, and his caramel-colored skin looked even darker against his white T-shirt. He was more than six feet tall now, and his arms and legs were nicely toned.
He's all grown up,
Holly thought, her heart fluttering.

Almost gingerly, with the politeness of near strangers, she and Diego began talking as they pedaled, catching each other up on the missing years. Diego told Holly that his older sister, Marta, whom Holly remembered as intimidatingly beautiful, was now a sophomore at Wesleyan, and then he asked about Holly's own family. Holly recounted to Diego the chaos at Grandma Ida's apartment, including Miles's run-in with Alexa, and received the gift of Diego's warm laugh, and the sight of his dimples.

"I'm sure your friend didn't take that well," Diego observed. "She seems like a real spitfire."

"You could say that," Holly agreed, relaxing. Things were starting to feel more natural between them.

They exchanged a few benign comments on the weather -- Diego agreed that it was insanely humid

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for March -- but Holly was quickly noticing that it was hard to carry on an actual conversation while biking. The ocean wind was ruthless against their faces, and other cyclists kept zooming past, sometimes rudely cutting right between them. Holly was relieved when Diego suggested breaking for ice cream. They biked to a stand on Ocean Drive, then rolled their bicycles north to the boardwalk.

"This feels familiar, huh?" Holly asked as she and Diego settled on a bench with their cups of chocolate chip. There was a space between them, almost as if they were leaving room for a third party. Holly considered shifting closer to him, but that would probably seem too forward. She had no idea how things were supposed to go when one was alone with a boy. She didn't exactly have much practice.

"Does it?" Diego asked with a smile, inclining his head.

Holly nodded, nervously digging her spoon into the ice cream. "Don't you remember? Bike-riding and eating ice cream. That was, like, all we did that week ... you know ..." She trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by where this topic might lead.
Bike-riding, eating ice cream ... kissing.

"Right." Diego shook his head and laughed. "That feels like such a long time ago, doesn't it?"

"Mmm," Holly lied, busy with her ice cream.

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"And didn't we go surfing?" Diego asked. Holly nodded as Diego set his empty cup down between them. Then he leaned back against the bench, staring pensively out at the ocean. "Yeah, I remember that," he went on with a grin, clearly enjoying their reminiscing. "We were both such amateurs, but you were braver than me. You'd ride those swells like they were nothing."

"You were scared?" Holly asked, surprised. "You seemed so ... whatever."

Diego ducked his head. "You think I'd have let on if I was scared? I was trying to impress you, Holly."

Holly felt her cheeks redden. What did
that
mean? Was he admitting that he'd had a crush on her back then? And what about now? She studied Diego's profile expectantly, but he offered nothing more.

Later, when Holly had finished her ice cream and they were walking their bikes back to 5
th
street, Diego reached over and playfully pulled her ponytail. Holly tensed up; she'd read an article in
Seventeen
that said boys tried to find ways to touch you if they were interested in you.

"Hey," Diego said. "Are you free tonight? Some friends of mine will be going to this hotel bar. Maybe you could bring your friend Alexandria and those other girls from last night. I'd kind of like to apologize to them again," he added with a sheepish smile.

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Holly's felt a surge of hope. Up until that moment, she'd been unsure about how things stood with her and Diego. He'd seemed halfway flirtatious, yet somehow also cautious. But his invitation to the hotel bar held all sorts of promise. Of course they hadn't completely clicked
now,
Holly reasoned -- how sexy could things feel on a bright Monday morning? But, that evening ... over drinks, under the stars ... Holly barely listened as Diego filled her in on the location of the bar. She was too busy watching his full lips. Of course. All she and Diego needed was a more seductive setting, and then they'd pick up right where they'd left off that summer night.

"He
invited us to the Rose Bar at the Delano?" Alexa asked as she and Holly walked into the bikini shop that afternoon. "It's only the trendiest hotel bar in Miami." Alexa had been hoping for a chance to go to the Delano this week, though hanging out there with Holly's dorky friend seemed less than ideal.

She wants to come?
Holly worried as she checked the price tag on an orange bandeau bikini. Holly had been hoping that Alexa would turn down the option so Holly could slink out to meet Diego alone. But now she was realizing that it might not hurt to have some other people with her tonight. She'd feel more secure surrounded by her Flamingo friends. She and

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Diego could always ditch the others if things got hot and heavy.

"Yeah, it'll be fun," Holly said casually, joining Alexa at a colorful rack. "And we can bring Daisy and Kaitlin, too."

"But we won't have to actually talk to Car Crash Boy, will we?" Alexa asked, rolling her eyes.

"Of course not," Holly said, feigning interest in a burgundy tankini.

"Good," Alexa said. "Because I guarantee you that there will be
lots
of delicious boys there and we won't want to be associated with someone like Diego." She shuddered, then held up a bright, lime-green halter bikini. "Try this on, Hoi. The color will look pretty with your eyes."

"I don't know," Holly said. The bikini wasn't her style at all. The bottoms were cut high up the leg, there were ribbons on each of the hips, and the top half looked like no more than two little triangles of fabric.

But when Holly tried on the bikini in the dressing room, she had to admit it fit her well. The summery color was eye-catching, and the price was right for her tight budget.
Would Diego like it?
she wondered, then chided herself for being such a girly-girl. It shouldn't matter what Diego thought. She was buying the bikini for herself.

Right?

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Feeling bold, Holly asked the saleswoman to cut the tags off after she'd paid. She wore the bikini out of the store, under her tank and shorts. She and Alexa drove to Lummus Park Beach. The beach was within walking distance from the shop, but the girls were savoring the privilege of the car. They had called Grandma Ida earlier that afternoon; to Holly's immense relief -- and as Alexa had secretly expected -- Ida was low-key about the minor fender bender, and told the girls that they could still keep the car for the week.

The beach was crowded at this hour -- people were packed together on the sand, towels vying for space with beach chairs. There was a volleyball game going on down near the shore. As Alexa and Holly crossed the sand, Holly thought she noticed a gaggle of teenage guys ogling her.
No
,
they're looking at Alexa,
she told herself, tucking her hair behind her ears.

They set their towels down in a narrow space between a large family and a canoodling couple. Alexa watched as Holly took off her shorts and settled down on the towel. Holly was totally working the new bikini -- but seemed unaware of the effect she was having on the guys around her. Even the boy next to them, who was kissing his girlfriend, paused to gape at Holly. Alexa grinned.

The girls were reaching for their respective sunscreens when a volleyball bounced onto Alexa's towel,

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and rolled to a stop at Holly's feet. Alexa was miffed. She didn't like it when sports-type people invaded her personal space. A girl in a flowered two-piece jogged toward them, her long dark braid swinging from side to side. "Sorry," she said as she bent to retrieve the ball. "Hey, are either of you up for a game?"

"No, thanks," Alexa said, lying back on her towel. She was heinous at volleyball. Plus, all that grunting and jumping around was so inappropriate for the beach -- the whole point of sunbathing was to lie still for as long as possible.

Normally Holly might have shied away from a stranger's invitation, but her date with Diego that morning, combined with the new bikini, was making her feel bizarrely confident. And next to track, volleyball was her favorite sport.

"I am," Holly said, getting to her feet. She asked Alexa to watch her stuff, and followed the girl down to the volleyball net. There was a nice mix of guys and girls on both sides, and Holly spotted some eye candy on the opposite team: a boy with shoulder-length brown hair and the lanky, fit shape of a surfer. When everyone went around and said his or her name, the guy introduced himself as Shane.

Holly dove into the game, spiking and serving with verve. There was hot sand beneath her feet, surf