2

Philip

Philip yawned as he flipped channels with the TV remote. The time change between America and Great Britain was catching up to him, but he would beat it. The luxurious hotel suite helped. A lot.

The beds were enormous, with thick white comforters and a million pillows. Philip could practically get lost in the bed alone. That was exactly why he was still there, wearing his sweat pants and a t-shirt.

The change of pace was precisely what he needed after the school year he’d been having. His latest breakup had been a disaster. Mari had called him on all his mess-ups—right in front of two dozen other students. At first, he’d blown it off, but her words kept buzzing through his head.

He knew why. She was right. He’d become a jerk.

The sound of running water came from the bathroom as Dad showered, and Philip took a deep breath. This would be the perfect summer vacation, giving him the opportunity to work out all his issues. Perfect, sans the school work he had to do online, of course.

Dad had insisted he keep up. Why would any guy need to know about ancient Middle Eastern religious rituals? Doing school work only reminded him of school and the constant pressure that he had an image to protect. That any girl agreed to go out with him at this point was a miracle.

Glancing around the posh hotel room, he retracted his thought. He knew the reason the girls kept coming. Money, plain and simple. He lived in the biggest house in the area, drove an awesome car. He had the promise of a new one when they returned home, but only if he “behaved.” Whatever that meant. Of course, girls flocked to him, at least girls like Mari, who were after popularity and fun. He shouldn’t have treated her so badly, though. Mari was nice, underneath all her makeup.

The water stopped, and a moment later, Dad stepped from the bathroom. He was already dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, but water dripped from his hair. “Ready to start your first day in Europe?”

“I plan to stay in bed all day, order room service, and stop by the pool later this afternoon.”

“Don’t think so, sport.” Dad nudged the bottom of Philip’s foot. “Up and at ’em. We’re meeting Mrs. Guthrie and her daughter for breakfast.”

Breakfast with Skye? “I think I’ll pass, Dad.”

Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Because I thought you actually wanted that new car.” He shrugged and turned away. “No problem. Suit yourself.”

Philip bounded from the bed and grabbed the jeans he’d tossed over the side of an arm chair. “I’m coming, but you’re playing dirty.”

Dad grinned at him. “You can play however you want when you’re the parent.”

“Keep that in mind when I put you in the old folks’ home.”

Dad’s deep, rumbling laughter made a strange tightening in Philip’s chest. When was the last time they’d talked and laughed together? Maybe this trip would be good in more ways than one.

Besides, once Dad left for work, Philip could return to bed. He had months to explore the city. No hurry.

He and Dad finished getting ready and headed to the elevator to ride down to the hotel restaurant. Even the elevator was lush with a thick, fancy carpet. The dark mahogany panels and crystal-like buttons added to the exquisite feel. He could definitely get used to this place. It was the first time he’d come on a business trip with Dad. Usually, he talked Dad into leaving him home for the short trips, but since this one was longer—and in Europe—Philip had convinced Dad he needed to come. It would be educational, and all that.

Dad hadn’t cared one way or the other.

The elevator stopped with an expensive-sounding ding, and Philip remembered who they were meeting. Keeping his shoulders straight, he strolled from the elevator and toward the restaurant with confidence, or at least as confident as he could pull off. He hadn’t eaten with Skye in a few years, not since Skye’s Dad left. Back then, the idea of helping her through that—when he wasn’t over his own mom leaving—was too much. She was the first girl he’d left in a lurch, but not the last.

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

They rounded the corner, and Skye and Mrs. Guthrie sat at a table near a sunny window. A small plant decorated the middle of the table, and fresh buds were just peeking out from their green shells.

Philip kept his shoulders straight, but his stomach tightened. Just as he’d treated his girlfriends, he’d been a jerk to Skye. He hoped she didn’t spit in his expensive spritzer water when he wasn’t looking.

“Morning, Catherine,” Dad said. He was always so calm, not as if he planned to con her out of all the accolades for their current job. Philip had heard him on the phone before they’d left the states, which was one of the reasons he’d decided he didn’t want to be like Dad after all.

Skye stared out the window. She seemed serene enough, but she gripped her linen napkin so tightly that her knuckles turned as white as the material.

“Philip.” Mrs. Guthrie smiled. She moved to hug Dad, which was weird. “I doubt I can eat a thing, I’m so excited.”

Philip slid into the seat across from Skye. She didn’t look at him, and he didn’t speak to her. Dad and Mrs. Guthrie barreled ahead with work talk while Philip toyed with the menu in front of him.

Half the foods were listed in French—which he’d taken in school but never actually learned. Mrs. Guthrie spoke perfect French. When they were little, and his family would go to the Guthries’ home for dinner, she would go on and on in French, wowing them all. Skye wasn’t half bad at it herself, if he remembered right.

Keeping his head bent toward the menu, he peeked out at her. She was looking at him, and he quickly looked away. Too late, though. She’d seen him.

“We’ve got some fun stuff planned for you kiddos,” Dad said.

Wait. What? Dad had planned stuff for him…and Skye?

“There are a multitude of educational tours available around here,” Mrs. Guthrie said. “Since you’re still technically in school, we thought it best to keep you busy learning.”

Philip glanced at Skye. Her eyes looked worried, and her lips were thin and white. If he’d guessed right, he’d say she wasn’t real happy with the idea.

“Mom, I’ve got other stuff planned,” Skye said.

“It’s not up for discussion.” Mrs. Guthrie leaned over and pulled a stack of brochures from a bag hanging on her chair. She tossed them onto the table. “Here, your first tour starts today at two.”

Philip glanced at Dad. Why was he doing this to him? Were their parents sending them on tours for the rest of their trip? Forcing them to hang out?

He wasn’t sure even a new car was worth that.

Dad nudged him with his shoulder. “Be a team player, won’t you, sport?”

Philip thought of the shiny black convertible he’d been drooling over for months. He forced a smile. “You bet, Dad.”

Skye eyed the brochures as though they were diseased.

“It’ll be fun,” Mrs. Guthrie insisted.

Skye shook her head. “I have plans, Mom. I’ve already committed to them.”

Mrs. Guthrie waved a hand. “You can reschedule. Education is important.”

Wow, talk about a total blow off.

Skye’s nostrils flared, but she didn’t put up a fight.

“You’ll have time for your other plans,” Mrs. Guthrie finally said. “But until school is out, you’ll focus on your education. Then, tonight you and I will have a nice dinner.”

Skye rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Mom.”

They sat in silence for a few awkward seconds, and Philip couldn’t take it anymore. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Guthrie. We’ll work it out.”

Mrs. Guthrie smiled at him. “Thank you, Philip. You are always so sweet.”

Sweet. That wouldn’t be the word used by his ex-girlfriends. Or Skye.

Once breakfast ended, Dad and Mrs. Guthrie headed out to work. Philip and Skye made their way back to their rooms.

“It’s not like it’s the end of the world,” Philip said as they waited on the elevator. This didn’t have to be terrible. If he wanted to change his attitude—and his image—he might as well start by making things right with his former best friend.

Skye kept her arms crossed and stared at the elevator buttons. Her long, blonde hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders, and she wore the ever-present black shirt and pants.

“Come on. We don’t even have to talk to each other. How bad can it be to see the sights?” He wasn’t sure why he was trying. Spending time with Skye wasn’t his idea of fun these days. She could stop acting like a martyr.

The elevator arrived, and they stepped inside.

“In case you didn’t hear me before, I had other plans.” She spoke to the buttons, her voice quiet but firm.

The elevator dinged with each floor they passed, until they reached the seventeenth. Philip shuddered. He hated heights. “Like what? Don’t tell me you know people in England.”

She spun to him, her eyes narrowed. “Unlike you, I prefer helping people. Once I realized there was no getting out of this disaster, I started looking for ways to spend my time. I signed up to help the poor, working with the All Nations Church.”

“What?” She had to be kidding. Sure, she’d always had a big heart. Once, they’d rescued a toad that had fallen into the swimming pool during a backyard barbeque. She’d refused to let anyone touch it unless they swore on their mother that they wouldn’t hurt it. He’d totally agreed with her back then, but signing up to serve with a bunch of strangers in a foreign country seemed a bit extreme.

The elevator doors opened, and Skye left him behind without another glance.

“Come on, Skye.” He hurried after her and grabbed her arm, but she jerked it away.

“Stop acting like we’re old friends. We’re not.”

“OK, so what? We’re in England for the summer, and our parents are forcing us to spend time together. We can make the best of it, can’t we?”

Her expression changed, morphing from irritation to anger. “What are you suggesting? If you think for a second that I’d hook up with you—or anyone—then you’ve lost your—”

“What? No! Gosh, Skye, of course I’m not saying that. But the least you could do is be civil.”

She stared at him, wary but seeming to consider his words. Finally, she sighed and stepped back. “Sorry. OK, we can be civil, but that doesn’t mean I want to pretend we’re best buds.”

Girls were so frustrating.

But guilt nagged at the back of his mind. Maybe he didn’t have a right to ask anything from her. Hadn’t he given up the right to friendship a long time ago? Not to mention, his motives now weren’t totally pure. Being nice to her would get him a new car. “Got it. No best buds. I’ll see you downstairs this afternoon then?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Yeah. Later.” Without another word, she marched toward her room.

Philip sighed. Maybe now wasn’t the time to reevaluate his values and image. He could do that at home, when he was surrounded by people who actually liked him. What a raw deal. Why’d he have to get saddled with Skye Guthrie?

He strolled to his own suite and crashed on the bed for the rest of the morning. The only thing making it worth the effort was the promise of that new car. He used his phone’s web browser to pull up the picture he’d stared at plenty of times over the last two months.

Black vehicle, silver sports stripes. Double muffler. Convertible top.

Yeah, that was worth a month of educational field trips in Europe with Skye Guthrie. As he’d told her, they didn’t have to speak. Or look at each other.

Whatever.

Skye Guthrie wouldn’t be ruining his summer, or his chances at a new car. This vacation would be perfect.