South beach (4 page)

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"South Beach?" Alexa cut in. Now, there was tremor of excitement in her voice. "South Beach is supposed to be this amazing up-and-coming spring break spot. And I think it got written up in
Elle
as one of the world's sexiest getaways!" Holly heard Alexa rustling about in her room, most likely going through her giant stack of fashion magazines.

"Here it is," Alexa said after a minute, then read aloud: '"South Beach, Florida. The land of rhythm, rumba, and rum margaritas!'"

"Does it really say that?" Holly asked, laughing.

"Let me finish," Alexa said. '"South Beach is a glamorous, glitzy town with an unmistakable Latin flavor. SoBe, as it's commonly called, overflows with sandy beaches for sun-worshiping, and spicy clubs for dancing the night away'" Alexa giggled with delight. "And there's this photo of the ritzy Rose Bar, in the Delano hotel. Holly, it sounds perfect! Let's do it."

Holly was overwhelmed. South Beach did sound appealing... and very grown-up. Not Disneyland at all. Holly was still unsure about Alexa, but going to Florida with her would definitely be an improvement over staying home with her entire family.

At that instant, both Holly's parents entered the kitchen: Her dad walked through the back door with Mia, and her mom came in from the den and opened the refrigerator.

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"Holly, would you start breading the chicken cutlets?" her mother asked, pulling out a carton of eggs as Mia barked loudly.

"Uh, hang on," Holly whispered to Alexa, flustered by all the commotion. She turned to her mom and said, "I'll be back in a second. I'm -- I'm having an important conversation." Holding the phone to her ear, Holly hurried out of the kitchen and upstairs to her room. She was surprised by herself. When her mom asked her to get off the phone, she usually did it immediately.

In her bedroom, Holly shut and locked the door, then plopped down on her plaid bedspread. "Okay," she said to Alexa. "I'm back."

"Great," Alexa said. Holly could hear the clickety-clack of her fingers on a keyboard. "I'm on Orbitz right now. I can look up flights for Miami and--"

"Wait," Holly interrupted. This was moving way too fast for her. "I need to think about it a little. And ask my grandmother if we can stay with her.
And
ask my parents if I can even go." She dreaded the mere thought of that.

"Okay," Alexa said. "You think, and take care of all the yucky permission stuff. Meanwhile, I'm going to find us cheap flights. Call me back!" Then she clicked off.

Holly remembered her childhood nickname for

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Alexa: "Little Miss Bossy." She wondered how that aspect of Alexa's personality might play out on their trip -- if they did end up going.

Holly snapped her phone shut and stretched across her twin bed, hugging a stuffed panda to her chest. She looked at the framed photo that hung above the bed, of her, Meghan, and Jess. Sweaty and triumphant after a track meet, they stood with their arms around one another's shoulders. Holly's friends would probably freak if she told them she was going away with Alexa. They thought of Alexa and her impeccably dressed crowd as total snobs.

But now that the kernel of Miami Beach was in Holly's head, she could feel it expanding and growing, taking the shape of reality. She wanted to go, she realized. With or without Alexa. But, because Holly's parents didn't let her fly anywhere alone, Alexa's being there was a necessity.

If Holly was being completely honest with herself, her desire to go to Miami had something to do with a boy. The boy she'd met down there, three years ago. Holly felt a flush spreading up her neck into her face. She hadn't thought about Diego in a while. But talking about Florida had triggered all the old memories. They rushed back now, as vivid as ever.

Diego Felipe Mendieta. He'd been fourteen at the

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time, but tall for his age. His skin was the color of cocoa butter, his eyes were black as olives, and his hair was dark and glossy. Whenever he smiled, the two deepest, most adorable dimples appeared in his cheeks. Diego lived in her grandmother's apartment building and he'd introduced himself in the lobby one day, which had absolutely floored Holly. Boys like Diego never talked to her. But the two of them had ended up spending the whole week together -- surfing on Haulover Beach, bike-riding north to Sunny Isles, eating triple-scoop ice-cream cones on the boardwalk. Then, on Holly's last night, Diego had given Holly her first -- and, so far, only -- kiss.

Holly closed her eyes, summoning that one yummy memory. It had been around ten o'clock, a muggy, sticky Miami night. She and Diego had gotten chocolate chip ice-cream cones, and decided to bring them down to the beach. The full moon had cast its pale reflection on the surface of the ocean. Holly remembered the feel of the cold ice cream on her tongue and the foamy water on her bare toes. She and Diego had fallen silent, gazing up in wonder at the moon, and Holly had felt an odd shift between them -- a kind of electric spark. She'd never felt that happen with a boy before. And she'd suddenly become aware of Diego's arm so close to hers. She'd resisted the urge

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to touch him -- to rest her hand on the sleeve of his T-shirt but then Diego had touched
her.
He leaned over, brought his fingers to her lips, and lightly wiped the corner of Holly's mouth.

"Ice cream," he explained with a half smile. Holly wanted to die of mortification, but before she could, Diego kissed her. Really kissed her. The fullness of his lips and the salty-sweet taste of his mouth, and his warm hand on her waist made Holly's knees wobble. She almost dropped her cone in the sand. Kissing was so much better than Holly had ever imagined -- soft and warm and easy. She'd wanted the kiss to last forever, but Diego had gently ended it, smiled at Holly, and turned back to the ocean. Still, when they'd walked back to the building, their fingers had brushed together as if they were about to hold hands. And when they parted ways in the elevator, Diego had given her another kiss, this time on the cheek, and promised to stay in touch.

And they had, Holly remembered as she lay on her bed. They'd e-mailed and IMed for the rest of the summer and into the school year, trading reminisces about their week in Miami. Holly remembered how her heart would bang against her ribs whenever she saw his name pop up on her screen. But, as the year went on, their correspondence had petered out. After

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some time, Diego faded in Holly's mind, remaining a blissful, if distant, memory.

Holly opened her eyes and swung her legs off the bed. She looked at herself in the round mirror above her desk. Her green-gray eyes were very bright and her freckled cheeks dark pink. Holly
had
sometimes teased herself with the thought that she'd go back to Miami Beach one day and have a romantic reunion with Diego. But she'd gotten so busy with schoolwork and track, and sports camp in the summer, that there hadn't been another chance to visit Grandma Ida.

Until now.

Sure, things were weird with Alexa. The setup was far from ideal. But Holly knew she'd be insane to throw away this opportunity to reconnect with her old crush. Maybe it was fated that she see Diego again. There was a very good chance she'd run into him in Grandma Ida's building. Diego would be seventeen now, probably even hotter, and most likely an even better kisser. The answer was staring Holly right in the face. She grinned at her reflection. She was going to Miami.

"Holly Rebecca!" Her mother's voice thundered from the kitchen. "Are you still on the phone?"

"Are you upstairs?" her dad chimed in. Holly took a deep breath. Right. She still had to

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clear the hurdle of her parents. They'd probably be okay with the Grandma Ida plan, but the Alexa element was a wild card. Holly's mom had never been a fan of Alexa's; she had been ecstatic when the girls' friendship faded. Alexa was a good student at Oakridge High, and never got into any trouble, but, as assistant principal, Holly's mom had personally busted a few of Alexa's friends for smoking on school grounds. As far as Holly's mom was concerned, Alexa was still nothing but trouble. So Holly was somehow going to have to make her old friend seem otherwise.

Before Holly turned to go downstairs, she closed her eyes and rehearsed a brief speech in her mind:
Mom and Dad, I miss Grandma Ida so much! She must be lonely down in Florida. I thought, since I'll be on break next week, I could go see her. And I wouldn't be traveling alone. Alexa St. Laurent asked if she could come along, too. Just her, none of her friends. She's much more down-to-earth than she seems at school, and I think Grandma Ida would really like her....

Will that work?
Holly wondered. Holly knew this sudden urge to see her grandmother might seem suspicious. But her parents would likely be so impressed with Holly showing, as her mother called it, "family commitment," that they wouldn't think twice.

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Holly tightened her ponytail, straightened her shoulders, and strode out of the bedroom. She'd march into the kitchen, and sit her mom and dad down. She'd make this thing happen. She had to. Holly was fed up with watching her friends do exciting things while she sat at home, life passing her by. It was time to take her destiny into her own hands.

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CHAPTER THREE

Like Paradise

"Welcome aboard American Airlines Flight 320, with nonstop service from Newark to Miami."

At the flight attendant's announcement, Holly fastened her seat belt and glanced at Alexa, who occupied the window seat next to her. It was Saturday morning, and the girls were on a plane bound for Florida. Holly couldn't believe this trip was happening. Everything had fallen into place so quickly, it still felt surreal.

Holly's parents had reacted exactly as she'd predicted pleased about Grandma Ida, iffy about Alexa. But a phone call to Grandma Ida who said she'd be delighted to host the girls sealed the deal. In happy disbelief, Holly called Alexa (whose own dad, of course, had readily given his blessing) and they booked the tickets. There was no looking back.

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Alexa plumped the airplane pillow behind her blonde head and gazed down at her shiny mauve nails. That morning, she'd made a last-minute run to Suzy's Salon for an emergency mani-pedi. One could
not
show up on the beach with pale, ungroomed winter feet. She'd invited Holly along, too, but -- shocker -- Holly had refused, claiming she didn't see the point. Alexa snuck a glance at Holly now, sizing up her outfit: pearl-gray zip-up hoodie, Gap jeans, Adidas sneakers.
Yawn,
Alexa thought. She hoped Holly wouldn't be too much of an embarrassment to her for the next seven days.

Alexa was wearing a fuzzy, champagne-colored cowl-neck, a corduroy miniskirt, and her chocolate brown, wedge-heeled Coach boots. It was one of her favorite winter outfits, but she was
so
ready to slip into something skimpier. She'd packed a pink halter bikini in her carry-on bag, so she would be able to change as soon as they got to Miami. Alexa imagined herself ambling along a boardwalk, clad only in her bikini, returning the smiles of passing boys. Of course, Holly was conveniently
not
in that picture.

"Flight attendants, please prepare for takeoff." The captain's voice came over the loudspeaker. Alexa felt Holly tense up beside her.

"Um, so this is it," Holly said, crossing her legs. She suddenly felt all-out nervous -- about flying, as

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always, but mostly about Alexa. Sitting next to her felt familiar -- as if they'd gone back in time but also completely weird. They hadn't spoken more than a few words to each other since they'd met at the gate that morning: Holly's parents fussing over her while Alexa hid behind giant shades and sipped her latte. Their clumsy phone camaraderie from Thursday evening seemed to have evaporated. Now there was only stony silence.

What if we can't think of anything to talk about for the entire week?
Holly agonized as the plane taxied down the runway. It was becoming glaringly obvious how little she and Alexa had in common -- they barely knew each other now. And Holly kept thinking about what Meghan had said when Holly told her the news: "You know she's only going to want to do shallow things." Holly gulped, remembering how Alexa had invited her along for a manicure and pedicure that very morning. Meghan was right. This trip could be a disaster.

Alexa looked out the window, pretending not to hear Holly's stilted attempt at conversation. She was psyched to be getting away, but she was also wondering, for the umpteenth time, if taking this trip with Holly was a bad call.

"You're going with
her?
She'll be in bed by ten every night," Portia had warned Alexa on Friday morning.

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Portia was right,
Alexa thought. Holly had seemed
almost
cool on the phone on Thursday. But seeing her in the flesh reminded Alexa of how uptight her old friend could be. And the whole staying-with-Grandma plan
still
felt wrong. At least Alexa hadn't admitted that part of the scenario to Portia.

As the airplane gained momentum and began hurtling down the runway, Alexa felt a delicious tingle of anticipation and her anxieties melted away. This was the part she loved best about travel the instant before takeoff. She settled back comfortably in her seat, feeling a renewed surge of hope about the trip. Then, she looked at Holly.

Holly was sitting ramrod straight, her fingers gripping the armrests. Her cheeks were drained of all color and her lips were white.

"Are you okay?" Alexa asked, leaning forward in concern.

"Yeah," Holly said. Then she shook her head. "No, I'm not. Oh, my God, imagine if we crash?" Holly had flown only a few times before -- and had been scared out of her wits each time. And she didn't like the sensation of being trapped inside a small cabin for hours with not much room to move around.

The airplane lifted off the ground, its nose angled toward the sky. Holly reached over and clutched Alexa's arm, and Alexa tried as hard as she could not