by Hunter Rose
I give her my award-winning smile and try harder.
“I’d love to go on a date. Please. I need to see you smile again.” I’m completely honest there. I would love to see that gorgeous smile again.
Her face contorts, trying to figure things out, as her pouty lips lift into a smile.
“Trace, I know what kind of guy you are,” she says.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I want to hear what she thinks.
“The kind who doesn’t do dates.”
“I think you don’t know me as well as you think.”
“Oh, then maybe I need to get to know you better,” she says with a sly smile.
Our eyes meet, and I can’t look away. My heartbeat pounds in my ears.
My voice drops. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”
Her face lights up, which does something to me. Her pointy little nose dips down as her hair falls over her face. She reaches with one hand and brushes it out of her eyes, which makes me shiver.
With the other hand, she opens the door. “I’ll see you around, Trace. Thanks for the ride.”
“Wait, is that a yes?” I yell, a little too frantic.
She moves away from the car, shutting the door behind her.
I fall back in the seat. Oh, I do love a challenge.
4
Vanessa
I can’t believe I just turned down the Trace Weston. I may need to have my head examined in the morning.
I walk up my front porch steps and open the door. As soon as I step inside, Maxine yells to keep the front door open. With her yelling and my mind in shambles, I slam the front door closed, and my eyes bulge at what I see next.
“Oh my god, what the hell?” I yell at her.
She is standing in a puddle of water near the kitchen. She has a hammer in one hand and a look of panic in her eyes.
“Don’t just stand there! Help me,” she calls, scanning the room in search of something—what, I don’t know.
I stand frozen, unsure of what to do. “Wha—?” Just as I’m about to ask, a bird swoops and grazes my hair. I jump and scream.
Rushing over to Maxine, I kick off my heels—or, I should say, one heel and a flat. My feet trudge through the water that trickles along the kitchen tile.
Then, water explodes from a pipe under the kitchen sink, spilling even more water on the ground.
I glare at Maxine in confusion, and she smiles. “My ring.” She holds up her hand which is ring free.
We duck in unison as the bird swooshes past us. Yes, a real bird. It may be a seagull, I’m not sure yet.
“What is going on here, Max?”
She drags her feet through the water and over to the phone, then picks it up and dials.
“Daddy, I think a water pipe burst.” She listens to whatever he says on the other end of the phone. “I don’t know how it burst,” she says, while waving the hammer in her hands, her voice escalating.
She hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath, smoothing her brown curls with her free hand.
The water continues to spray from the pipe, and we decide we should clean up the mess.
Red and blue towels hang from both of her arms as she rushes back from the bathroom.
“We need to stop the water!” I yell.
The kitchen cabinets are open, so I rifle through the contents. I discover masking tape, which I hold up as Maxine drops the towels.
“Here, do you think this will help?”
“Oh, good idea. We can tape the pipe.” She smiles.
I toss the binding to her as she crouches under the sink. Her jeans soak in the water, and she frowns. I kneel as Maxine looks over my head. The dang bird flies back and attacks my hair again.
What is its problem? Why’s there a bird in the house in the first place?
Maxine unravels the adhesive and tries to wrap it around the busted pipe. She winds the tape, and it makes a bigger mess. Water sprays our faces, and she turns laughing, “I don’t think this is working.”
The water is cold. I stand up and agree that tape isn’t the answer. “We need to clog up the pipe,” I suggest.
Maxine nods her head and grabs the towels off the floor. They are soaked through. She shoves a towel into the pipe. It stops the water flow, and she grins.
She stands and lets out a huge breath just as the water breaks free from the towel and continues to spray the room.
I glance over at the bird perched on the counter. He looks as though he’s unsure of what to do, too.
“What now?” she asks, looking at the bird.
“I don’t know. Is your father coming here?”
“Yes, he has a contractor friend, and they’ll be here soon.”
I lean against the counter and face her. “So, what’s with the bird?” I point a finger over to where it’s walking around like it owns the place.
Maxine turns and grabs my shoulders. “Oh Nessie, it was horrible. I was at the party, and I saw Darren. Well, we began kissing, and then his friend, Craig, walked over and said they were gonna play some poker. Darren just left. Like just left me standing there. I called him and he laughed and said that after he was done hanging with friends, he’d make time for me.” Her face slumps as she recalls the story.
Looking at the pipe as it leaks more water onto the floor, she continues. “Well, I was so upset, I came home. I wanted to have a nice, quiet evening, so I opened the patio doors to let in the cool, rainy air. Before I knew it, a bird flew inside. I tried to catch him—I chased him around the house and cornered him into the kitchen. I was trying to shoo him out the window with my hands.”
She glances over at the bird and sticks her tongue out at it.
Waiting for her to continue, I chuckle to myself.
“As I was flailing my hands, my most favorite ring flew off my finger and fell down the sink. I ran to the garage and got the hammer. You know, my absolutely stunning ring? The one with the blue owl in the center?”
Seeing where the story is heading, I cut in to ask, “Max, did you think banging a hammer against the kitchen pipe would get the ring back?”
“Well, I tried to pry it open, and it wouldn’t budge. So, I began banging it, and I guess I busted a water pipe.”
I laugh, but try my best not to laugh directly at her. “You think?”
She stares at me for a moment and shrugs her shoulders.
My arms wrap around her. “Oh, Max, what am I going to do with you?”
A while later, after her father and his friend have fixed the plumbing, we sit down and relax for the first time in hours. It’s late. Her father brought over some industrial drying fans, so the house is nearly back to normal. Talent and skill got the bird out of the house, and they were even able to get Maxine’s ring. We thanked them as they finished, and now we’re exhausted.
“So, I never asked, what happened to your skirt?” Maxine grabs my hem and follows the slit up.
I roll my eyes, telling her the story about Jordan and ending with Trace. Tony is another story, and I don’t bother her with those details.
“Trace Weston? Be careful with that one, Ness. He’s a player.”
“What does that even mean?” I lean my head further into the couch cushion and rub my temples. I’m exhausted, not really wanting to even think about Trace.
Sure, he’s gorgeous, but that’s all it will ever be with me. I don’t ever plan on really dating him. I mean, he’s not the dating type, right?
“Can we talk about this later? I’m so tired. Also, we have a busy day tomorrow.” She gets up from the couch and saunters away.
“Get some rest, Max.”
“Yeah, thanks. Good night.”
“Don’t worry about Darren. That jerk. One day he’ll realize how amazing you are.” I smile at Maxine as she waves and continues walking down the hall to her room.
I race to my room and grab a notebook, picturing Trace and his deep, dark eyes, the way they stare and never break their gaze.
He’s gorgeous, but I c
an’t allow myself to get tripped up by his smile. And what was up with him asking me out? He couldn’t have been serious. I let myself think about him for one more minute.
He’s a wonder to behold, and I do want to see him again. Although I have to remain on top of my game, so I don’t fall under his spell.
“Oh, Vanessa Summers, you’re in trouble,” I mumble to myself.
5
Trace
In the morning, a loud, buzzing sound wakes me after a restless night. Dreams of Vanessa are still fresh on my mind. My eyes are hard to open. My phone vibrates on the table. Who’s calling? I pick up the phone and take the call, and my father’s voice assaults my ears.
“Trace, were you sleeping?” he asks.
“No, no. What’s up?” I yawn into the phone.
“I just wanted to see if you received my message about your summer internship,” he says with a grunt into the phone. One thing about my father, he’s all business. No “Hello son, how are you?” Nope. Just short and direct. Sports, weather, normal things normal people talk about have never been topics of choice with him.
“No, I didn’t get any message.” I rub the sleep out of my eyes as I sit up in bed.
“Well, I left it on your voicemail. I have set up an internship this summer for you with the company. You will work with Roberts. Report to him the moment classes end,” he barks.
“Okay, sounds good, Dad.” There’s no point in arguing with him. I tried once and regretted it. He has a rough exterior and an even rougher interior. He hates arguing when he thinks he’s right, and in his mind, he is always right.
The call ends with him giving me details about the summer internship, which I don’t fucking want. As he talks, I pull up my shorts.
After washing up in the bathroom, I head down the hall. Darren and Tony are chatting as I walk in the kitchen.
“Hey,” I say, rubbing a hand across my neck.
“Hey. So, what happened last night? Why didn’t you meet Vanessa?” Tony asks.
He doesn’t know that Vanessa and I did meet up after the party, but no way I’m giving him the satisfaction of that story.
“Sorry, I was busy,” I say, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. I move towards the coffee maker, pour a cup, and sit down at the counter.
“Well, lucky for you, I know where she’ll be today.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s that?” I stir my coffee as I look at both Darren and Tony.
“Maxine is having a party at the beach,” Darren says, rubbing a hand down his face like he would rather be anywhere else but at her party.
“Who’s she?”
“You know, that girl I fool around with—long, dark hair, sexy eyes and legs.”
Without a clue, I smile. Vanessa mentioned a Maxine the night before—must be the same chick.
“Anyways, beach party. You in?” Tony asks, reaching for a mug. He pours the coffee, takes a sip and then lifts his head, waiting for my answer.
Vanessa in a bikini? Oh, I’ll be there.
Partygoers pack the Beach, right off Shore Road, where anybody who is anyone hangs out, while the sun is high in the sky. There’s a breeze, a hot one at that, and I stare up at the sun, wanting to get into the ocean as soon as possible.
My shirt melts to my skin as I retrieve my surfboard and scan the shore, searching for the blonde I can’t erase from my mind. Darren and Tony grab the beach towels from the back of the Cobra as I head toward the shore.
This has been my life as of late, party after party, and I’ve never seen Vanessa at one until last night. I’d like to think Vanessa’s the type of girl I’d remember seeing. She definitely made an impression on me last night, one I’ve never felt with any other chick before. It’s almost alarming, but I know it’s most likely because she turned me down when I asked her out. No one’s really ever done that to me before. No one.
I hope there’s plenty of alcohol here. It’s awesome I can drink legally now. For a quick moment, I wonder if Vanessa is here, too. She better be. I plan on leaving immediately if she’s not here.
Down the coast, I spot her and head toward the party. A big smile stretches my face at the sight of her and I almost say a little ‘phew’ at the fact she’s here. Another chance to ask her out. And then, I remember the wager. The rules. The loss of my Cobra if I don’t get her to date me, and determination etches my face as I move closer.
A tall brunette with long hair comes galloping over. She flings herself at Darren as he sidesteps just out of reach, making the hug awkward now.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she says, running her fingers through his straw-like hair.
“Cool, babe. Where’s the beer?” he utters, laughing and slapping Tony’s hand in a high-five.
My mind races in anticipation of seeing Vanessa again. I head in her direction, where she is lounging on the beach. Damn, she’s hot.
As I approach, I can see that idiot from last night is here, too, hanging on her every word. It’s a bit of a let-down seeing him, and I kind of wish he’d just evaporate into thin air. I can foresee this dude being a problem.
They seem to have made up since last night. That’s just great. I roll my eyes inwardly, knowing I need to get her away from him if I’m going to have any sort of chance of asking her out.
She laughs at something he says, which sends a chill through me on this all-too-hot day.
“Hi there,” I greet.
Jordan just glares at me.
Listen, I can tell he doesn’t like me. Hey, feeling’s mutual, kid.
Vanessa strains her neck up to see who’s speaking, and suddenly her face lightens into a smile. She’s wearing a tiny, pink, two-piece swimsuit with white hearts all over, and as she looks up with her eyes, I get lost in their depths of blue.
“Hey, you.” She reaches an arm overhead, blocking the sun.
I take a seat next to her, noticing her long, luscious, tanned legs that seem to be begging me to part them.
“Hey,” Jordan grunts, then pops up and brushes the sand off. “I’m gonna get us a drink, okay, Ness?”
“Sure,” she replies.
“Want a beer?”
“I’m not twenty-one yet,” she answers him.
“So? I’ll get you one.” He takes off running, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Phew. I thought he’d never leave,” I joke—somewhat.
She smiles wide as she lowers her arm back down to her lap. “Jordan’s all right. I can tell you two don’t like each other.”
“That obvious, huh?” Our eyes meet, and I give her my best smile. I need to ask her out again. “So, you never answered me. Can I take you out?” I ask.
“I didn’t answer you? Hmm, thought I did.” She smirks as her blonde tresses blow in the wind. She is hands-down the hottest chick on this beach right now, and I can’t stop staring at her. And she’s in a bikini, so I’m really having a hard time focusing on anything.
“No, you didn’t. I’d remember.”
She lifts to her feet and walks towards the shoreline. I watch her body sway as she glances back over her shoulder. “You wanna go swimming?” she asks.
Is she serious? What? In a daze, I follow as she wiggles her toes in the surf.
I race back to get my surfboard as she wades out into the ocean.
I push my body through the waves as she gets further away. She continues heading out as I try to catch up to her. There are a few swimmers closer to the shore, but none where we are headed.
A look of terror crosses her face as I paddle my board closer. And I see the exact moment that the waves turn on her. She flails her arms in desperation to keep her head above water. The waves continue to crash down, and I panic. Shit, she’s drowning, and I can’t get to her. I take one glance back at the beach and no one notices. I release my board and stroke my arms to get closer. A wave takes her under as the undertow current sweeps her further away. Oh, please let her be okay, please.
Her head bobs up near me, and I wrap my arms around h
er. One thing I had always learned about riptides is you don’t fight them. Just swim sideways along the shore. Good advice proves difficult when you add hauling a thrashing body along with it.
“Vanessa, I’ve got you. You need to calm down,” I say to reassure her.
With one arm around her neck, I loop the other under her arm as I swim parallel to the coast. Strong undertows and crashing waves heighten my fear, and I try not to explode with anxiety. Please let her need C.P.R. Brushing her lips with mine flashes into my head. Bad time to think this! Let’s get her safe first. The eddy current drags me under, but I drive our bodies further. The more I dog-paddle through the water the easier it becomes. Exertion leaves my body throbbing with pain as I swim closer to the sand.
“Are you okay?” I shout, letting go of her in the shallow ocean. Concern rides through me, and I glance at her body to make sure she isn’t hurt.
“Yes, I think so.” She chokes, spilling salty water from her mouth.
“You scared the hell outta me.” My breathing is hard, and I try to catch it.
“Wasn’t my intention, believe me.” She lifts her body and walks out of the tide. She raises a hand to her chest and takes a deep breath, the look of fear evident in her eyes.
“I’m just glad I got to you in time,” I say, retrieving my board as it washes ashore.
“Thank you for saving me. I owe you one.” She half-smiles. And I know she’s not joking at all.
Yes, my opening. Should I take advantage of a near-death experience? Absolutely.
My mouth turns up into a wide grin as I chuckle. “Well, you could owe me that date now.”
She’s sopping wet and looks tired. The sun radiates off her now-soaked frame, and I feel like a jackass for asking her out right now. I cross my fingers and hold my breath.
“I guess I kinda have to, you having saved my life and all.” She is still shaky, and I place my hand on the small of her back to steady her. Score! My smile gets bigger as Jordan comes rushing over to us.
