Chapter 31
The beach was deserted. It was the closest coastline to Utuado, which, being at the top of a mountain, still meant it was about forty-five minutes away. Lilly said it was a local hangout. Not too many tourists strayed this far from San Juan, which was their loss.
The beige sand flowed for miles, disturbed only by lush green trees and a few jagged rock jetties reminiscent of New England. The turquoise water rolled in low, lazy waves filling the air with a clean salty breeze. It was a strong contrast to the Jersey shores I frequented back home. Depending on the shore point, the beach was either two feet from the boardwalk or two miles. The water was a murky, unnatural shade of brownish green, and the scene was far from abandoned.
So far, I liked the Puerto Rican coast better.
I snuck a peek at Lilly’s freakishly developed fifteen-year-old figure. She looked like a swimsuit model in her red string bikini with unlined triangle cups filled to perfection. My suit, however, came with the boobs already included. There was enough padding on my chest to act as a flotation device in case of an emergency.
“You can’t tell that they’re not real.” Lilly sighed, after catching me staring at her again.
“Okay, let’s not talk about my boobs while you look like Pamela Anderson.”
“Oh, please. You look fine. Of course, he may notice that you’ve grown a few sizes since last night,” Lilly stated cautiously. “But guys are stupid.”
“Gee, thanks. I feel so much better.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
We had been plopped on the beach for almost an hour. Lilly was peacefully basking in the sun while Vince swam in the ocean and I adjusted my swimsuit again and again. My foot was bouncing uncontrollably and I could almost hear the second hand on my watch ticking.
“He’ll be here. Will you relax?” Lilly said, as she held her hand to her forehead to block the rays.
“I wasn’t thinking about him.”
I had already considered the idea that he might stand me up. His friends might not have told him about the plans or he could have decided not to meet us. He might have forgotten all about me, or he might have woken up this morning and decided he just didn’t want to see me again.
“No, you’re just posing on your towel and fixing your top for the benefit of Vince and me.”
“I’m not posing! I’m just uncomfortable. At home we usually bring chairs to the beach.”
“Oh, yeah. Back in Spring Mills . . .” Lilly droned.
“What? I don’t talk about home that much!” I screeched, kicking sand on her feet,
“Oh, really? Then how come I know that Madison wore a silver dress to her party and that some girl showed up in the same color, and that her cake looked like designer purses and that some movie star showed up and stole the show, and . . .”
“All right, all right! At least I don’t talk about it as much . . . anymore,” I defended, pushing my sunglasses up on the bridge of my nose.
“Fine, I’ll give you that. Plus, we now have my party to talk about! So, how awesome was last night?”
Surprisingly, I did think her party was awesome, even with the homemade food and plastic cups, and folding chairs and sweltering heat. It was probably the most fun I’d ever had and I barely knew a single person. No Emily, no Madison, just a bunch of relatives and complete strangers salsa dancing to Spanish music and enjoying each other without pretenses. As much as I loved my best friend, I doubted her Sweet Sixteen could have matched Lilly’s Quinceañera in atmosphere—Orlando Bloom or not.
“Ya know, it really was great.” I smiled.
“See, and you thought you were missing out back home,” Lilly said as she rolled over on her towel. “I can top a ritzy Sweet Sixteen any day.”
I chuckled and reached into Lilly’s beach bag. All she had was SPF 4 sun oil. It seemed that skin cancer hadn’t yet hit Puerto Rico and Lilly swore she didn’t burn (must have been some recessive gene I didn’t inherit). She packed the oil on my behalf, thinking it qualified as sun protection. Given that my freckled skin glowed a ghostly shade of white, I had no choice but to smear myself repeatedly in the only liquid available. My hope was that if I continuously reapplied, it would up its potency (like, could an SPF 4 become an 8 if I reapply it twice in thirty minutes; how about a 12 if I reapply once more after that?).
Thankfully it was cloudy, and the sun wasn’t blasting with nearly as much heat as usual. But it was still high noon and temperatures were probably in the upper eighties. If Alex didn’t get here soon, I feared I’d be a puddle of boiling water by the time he saw me.
“Here I come!” screamed Vince as he suddenly ran towards us dripping wet and shaking water like a grungy dog. “Dah-hhh !”
His hair whizzed back and forth, spraying us with a mist that actually felt kind of refreshing though I was kicking my legs and swinging my arms at him with full force. I wasn’t big on swimming in the ocean. The thought that I could drift out into a vast body of water and be unable to swim back was terrifying—and so was the seaweed. I hated not knowing what I was stepping on: shells, crabs, seaweed, jellyfish, hypodermic needles. Sure, the oceans here were crystal clear on a bad day, but it was still hard to wipe away fifteen years of Jersey shore experiences. I preferred to lie on the sand in peace just staring at the sea.
“Hey, it looks like your friends are here,” Vince said as he grabbed a pink-and-yellow towel from Lilly’s bag and wiped his face.
I spun around and saw two cars pulling up next to Aunt Carmen’s beat-up brown sedan. I bit my lip and looked away, trying to pretend it didn’t matter. When I glanced back, Alex and his friends were strutting toward us. He looked taller than I remembered, and his calves were skinny and hairy as they poked out of his black-and-gray board shorts. I immediately adjusted the wide band that ran along the bottom of my halter bikini top and glanced down to make sure nothing was peeking out that shouldn’t be.
“Hola, chicas,” Alex said as he approached, staring straight at me.
I watched his eyes scan me up and down.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hola, mi amor.” Lilly batted her mascara-caked eyelashes as she called Alex “her love.” I hoped she was kidding.
The guys immediately took turns kissing Lilly on the cheek before fighting for towel space as close to her as possible.
“Mind if I sit here?” Alex asked, as he unfolded his green towel beside me.
I shook my head.
“So this is your first day at the beach,” he stated matter-of-factly as he sat down.
“How’d you know?”
“Your tan needs a little work.”
“Uh!” I grunted. “Maybe I just like the pale look? I’m going for the whole ‘Nicole Kidman’ thing.”
“Sure you are.”
“Hey, I could be. Anyway, I think tanning is on its way out.”
“For who?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“For everyone. I’m calling for a comeback of the Renaissance era when fat women with pasty skin were all the rage.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “I like your body the way it is.”
“Oh, please. Did you practice that line?”
He looked at me with a crooked grin. There weren’t too many people who I could banter with so easily and I was glad that he was one of them.
“You have fun last night?” he asked, ignoring my dig.
“Of course. I had a blast.”
“You’re a great dancer.”
“Not at salsa,” I groaned, flicking my hand at him. “You’re just a great partner.”
“There you go again not accepting compliments.”
“Fine. Then let me thank you for complimenting my phenomenal dance skills. I believe you will see me popping up in salsa videos sometime very soon,” I teased.
“No, not videos. But I could see you on TV. Maybe on a soap opera.”
“A Spanish soap opera? Because I’ve been working on my dramatic pauses and you should see me slap someone across the face. Now there’s a talent I need to share with the world.”
Alex reached over and let his arm fall next to mine. He slowly inched his fingers toward me, and lightly brushed the sand off the back of my hand. My arms flooded with goose bumps. I looked at him, his dark eyes sparkling.
“You’re funny,” he said.
“Oh, wait. Let me be sure to accept the compliment. I don’t want to seem too American.”