South Beach

by Aimee Friedman

  "You have the prettiest smile," Aaron whispered, tracing his thumb over Holly's lower lip. Holly held

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  her breath as he leaned over and lightly touched his mouth to hers.

  "I -- I thought, maybe, you liked me," Holly said, the alcohol loosening her tongue. "But I wasn't sure."

  "Oh, come on," Aaron murmured, his fingers grazing her collarbone. "It wasn't exactly an accident that I walked in on you in the shower over there." He motioned with his head.

  "You planned that?" Holly gasped, getting water in her mouth. "But you -- you acted all surprised and shy ..." She trailed off, remembering that night.

  Aaron laughed softly. "I could tell you were a good girl, so I figured I'd play nice."

  A good girl. Holly felt a rush of anger, mixed with desire. She was not a good girl anymore. And, to prove her point, she put her arms around Aaron's neck and kissed him hard on the mouth.

  "Wow," Aaron whispered, drawing his head back to look at Holly. "All right."

  He kissed her deeply, sliding his muscular arms tight around her waist. Holly pressed close to him, and they both submerged. Kissing underwater felt so sensual, the cool water enveloping their bodies. When they came up for air, Holly shook out her sopping hair and laughed, gesturing down to her soaked tube top.

  "I'm all wet," she complained.

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  "Let me help you," Aaron said, reaching down and sliding Holly's tube top up over her head. He tossed it out of the pool, and it landed on a beach chair.

  Holly bit her lip, as Aaron smoothly reached behind her and unhooked her strapless bra. She remembered how Shane had tried to go up under her shirt at Yacht, and she'd stopped him in a panic. Things felt different now; she was still a little hesitant, but Aaron seemed safer. Familiar. He was literally the boy next door -- at the Flamingo, anyway As Aaron drew her close again, she thrilled at the new sensation of skin on skin. His hard chest felt so warm and smooth against her own silky softness that it sent tingles through Holly's whole body. She smiled as she wrapped her legs around Aaron's underwater.

  "I've got condoms in my wallet," Aaron told her. His teeth were very white in the darkness. "Just in case."

  Is that where this is leading? Holly wondered. She hoped Aaron couldn't feel the mad pounding of her heart. "That's good," she said lazily, as if she'd done this a thousand times before. To mask her nerves, she leaned in and started kissing Aaron's neck.

  "Hey, Holly?" Aaron murmured.

  "Mmm?"

  "You know this is just for fun, right?" he asked. "Like, I'm not planning on breakfast or some shit tomorrow morning."

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  Holly glanced up. Aaron's face floated above the water, serious.

  "Oh, sure," Holly replied tremulously. She hadn't really thought about tomorrow. She guessed she didn't want any strings attached, either. That would get too complicated.

  "I mean, you can't really stay over tonight," Aaron went on. "My brother and Jon and I have this thing about girls sleeping over. It's too weird if one of us guys is in the room. You know what I'm saying?"

  Holly nodded, remembering what Daisy had told her that morning. So would she and Aaron, like, go all the way ... and then trek back to their separate beds? Holly shivered in the cold water.

  Back in Oakridge, whenever she thought about sex, she always imagined her first time would be with her first real boyfriend. Someone Holly would feel absolutely comfortable with. Someone who knew how to kiss her and touch her just the way she liked, and who'd want her to sleep in his arms all night. Someone she'd love, and who'd love her, too. Had she been naive to hope for all that -- just as she'd foolishly hoped for a chance with Diego?

  "I just thought we'd lay down some ground rules first," Aaron explained, squeezing Holly's waist underwater and kissing the side of her neck. "I generally like to do that."

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  Holly stomach turned. How many girls has he been with? she wondered.

  Suddenly, being here with Aaron felt all wrong. And it wasn't because Holly was thinking she should have been with Diego, or with any other boy. She was thinking about herself. Just because she was being naughtier and wilder tonight did not mean she had to give it up to some loser. No, Holly realized. She wasn't being naive this time. She simply knew; with absolute certainty, that she deserved better.

  "Here's a ground rule for you, Aaron," Holly said, pushing him off her. "Next time you want to get lucky, try not to be such a slimy bastard?

  Aaron's jaw dropped. "You're turning me down?" he asked incredulously.

  Holly rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself, Aaron," she replied. Grabbing her bra, she climbed out of the pool and pulled on her wet tube top. Then she snatched up her bag, and, without looking back at him, hurried out of the pool area as quickly as her waterlogged platforms could carry her.

  It was almost three in the morning as she shot through the Flamingo lobby and up the stairs. Out of habit, Holly headed toward Room Number 7, and paused in front of the door. Though Holly felt much more sober, she still needed a dose of clarity. I need to talk to Alexa, Holly realized. But Holly was still sore

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  about last night. She wasn't about to apologize to Alexa yet.

  Still, Holly didn't want to spend another night in Kaitlin and Daisy's room. She wanted to change into her own pajamas, and climb into the narrow bed that had become familiar to her since Saturday. She just craved some sense of normalcy. So Holly hesitated, then braced herself, and knocked on the door.

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  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Temptation Times Two

  There's nothing like the sight of drag queens to cheer you up, Alexa reflected as she peered through the lens of her digital camera. It was Tuesday night, around ten, and Alexa was taking pictures of people on Lincoln Road. After nibbling on a slice at Pizza Rustica, she emerged in time to see three drag queens in high heels and tight, sequined dresses sashaying down the strip. Alexa grinned as she snapped the picture. Then she settled down on a nearby bench to review the images in her camera, but soon she was stifling a yawn. Alexa couldn't concentrate on photography tonight. Her eyes stung from lack of sleep, and she had plenty of other things on her mind.

  Alexa had left her door unlocked last night on the off chance that Holly decided to come back to the

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  room. But she had been so paranoid about the possibility of intruders sneaking in and so haunted by her exchange with Holly on the beach -- that she didn't fall asleep until after dawn. She was rudely awakened a few hours later by Kaitlin, who barged in to retrieve Holly's necessities for the day. Alexa had rolled her eyes, supremely annoyed. The fact that Holly clearly didn't have the guts to confront Alexa only deepened Alexa's aggravation toward her former friend.

  But as Alexa showered and changed, she found that she was kind of missing the company of said former friend. Alexa drove to the Miami Art Museum, hoping a dash of culture and beauty would revive her. After wandering the galleries for the afternoon, however, her argument with Holly still gnawed at her like a persistent toothache. Even a phone call to Portia from the car didn't help; Portia couldn't talk because she and the other girls were on a private cruise with boys they'd met the night before. When Alexa returned to the Flamingo, she ran into Thomas and brusquely turned down his invitation to join him later that night at some outdoor club he'd forgotten the name of.

  So that was how Alexa found herself with her camera on bustling Lincoln Road, wearing a simple, peach-colored cotton sundress, her hair in a low braid, and no makeup. It was the first time in years

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  that Alexa St. Laurent was out after sundown ... and not going out.

  But she craved time alone tonight -- time away from the whirling circus of bars and clubs and alcohol. And, mostly, she needed time away from boys. Because, out of all the unpleasant memories Alexa couldn't shake from last night's fight, the most persistent one was Holly calling her a slut.

  In the heat of the moment, Alexa
had been more than ready to defend herself. But after the argument, doubts began to brew in Alexa's mind. Was she sort of a slut? Did she move from boy to boy mindlessly, using their affections to fill some sort of void in herself? Alexa had to admit that this concern had been plaguing her since that night at Ohio's. And that was why she'd grown so enraged at Holly's accusation last night. The truth always bit sharpest, didn't it?

  But with Diego, it felt different, Alexa mused, gazing off at the bright lights of the Colony Theater. Though she'd been totally sober, Diego had made her feel drunk with possibility -- with the sense that she'd finally found a boy who understood her. And Alexa hadn't aggressively flirted with him, as she'd done with hot boys in the past. Their coming together had felt fluid, elegant, inevitable.

  Forget him, Alexa eluded herself, turning her attention back to the camera. Diego was too confusing.

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  Even though Holly had said that she and Diego weren't together, Alexa still wasn't sure what their history had been. It was impossible for Alexa not to feel a little guilty for kissing Diego -- even if he was technically available.

  "Excuse me, but I'm looking for a professional photographer." A deep male voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Alexa glanced over, irritated that some creep was ruining her moment of self-reflection.

  But the boy beside her on the bench was none other than the very focus of her thoughts. Alexa gave a start. It was as if she'd been thinking about Diego so much he'd sprung, fully formed, from her head.

  "I'm hoping you can help me," Diego continued, a smile tugging at his full lips. "I'm looking for someone smart and beautiful who likes to take candid shots of people in public places." He reached over and gently tucked a strand of hair behind Alexa's ear. "Do you know anyone who fits that description?"

  Alexa inched away from him, trying not to notice how her whole body responded to even his slightest touch. She was also doing her best to ignore how good he looked in a long-sleeved black shirt and Sean John jeans. She could smell his Cool Water, and wished she could lean over and rest her head in the crook of his neck.

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  "What are you doing here?" she finally asked, taking her gaze off him. She pretended to watch a musician performing in the street.

  "You told me you wanted to take pictures of Lincoln Road at night," Diego said. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him lift his hand as if he wanted to touch her again, but then he dropped it back into his lap. "I figured I would see you if I walked up and down the strip enough times." He paused and she could tell he was smiling. "I hope that doesn't make me a total stalker."

  Alexa shook her head, suppressing her own smile. A group of drunken spring breakers wove past, arguing noisily about which bar to hit next.

  "It's just that I really wanted to talk to you about what happened at the Delano," Diego explained, his voice impassioned. "I called Holly today, too, hoping I'd get in touch with you through her. But she never called me back."

  "I haven't even seen Holly since last night," Alexa replied. "But I'm guessing she's still pretty upset." Then Alexa turned her head and looked straight at Diego, her heart aching at the sight of him. "Did anything ever happen between you guys?" she asked plainly.

  This time Diego was the one to look away, glancing down at his hands. "Back when we were kids," he said. "When I still lived in Miami Beach. I was like, fourteen,

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  and we spent a week hanging out together. We had a lot of fun and on her last night... I kissed her." Diego glanced briefly at Alexa, smiling his frustratingly adorable smile. "But that was three years ago. And when I met her again this week --" Diego shook his head. "It just felt like we were old buddies, and that was all. I mean, Holly's a sweetheart, and she's a really good-looking girl but..." Diego looked back up, his dark eyes sweeping over Alexa's face. "She's not the girl for me."

  Alexa bit her lip, unable to tear her gaze away from his. She held her breath as he leaned close and cupped her face in his hands.

  "You re the girl for me," Diego said softly.

  Alexa was dying to melt into his arms and kiss him with all the tenderness she was feeling. But everything was still so jumbled in her mind -- the fight with Holly, and Alexa's own feelings of guilt and uncertainty. She'd resolved to take a break from boys and had to stick to that plan. It would give her the space and time she needed to sort herself out.

  "Diego ..."Alexa began. Even saying his name was painful. "Diego, I think you're so wonderful. But I can't be with you right now." She tried to turn away again but Diego kept his hands gently on her face.

  "Alexa," he pleaded. "Maybe Holly thought she and I had something more than we did, and I guess that's

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  why she got so mad last night. But I swear to you that there's nothing between us. I never lied to you, Alexa."

  "I know," Alexa whispered, choking up. How could she have ever doubted the burning sincerity in Diego's eyes? She hadn't imagined the intensity of his feelings last night; they'd been as real and powerful as her own. His honesty was so seductive, but Alexa couldn't give into him now.

  "It's not only about Holly," Alexa said as she slowly removed Diego's hands from her face. "It's about me." She felt her eyes grow hot, and she blinked back tears. "Maybe it's because I just got out of a relationship, or because of what happened at the Delano. But I need to, I don't know, make peace with myself before I can be with someone else again." She dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand and gave Diego a small smile. "Does that make sense?"

  Diego nodded, swallowing hard. "It does. But I wish you'd ... you'd still give me a chance." He suddenly sounded so lost, like a little boy. Gone was the suave gentleman he'd been last night.

  Alexa knew that if she sat there any longer, she'd lose it and start weeping into Diego's shirt. She hated crying in front of anyone. So she stood and dropped her camera back into her tote.

  "I should go," she told Diego, her voice breaking.

  He stood quickly and took her hands in his. "Alexa,

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  wail -- will I see you again? When are you leaving Miami?"

  "On Friday," Alexa whispered. "But please don't try to find me, Diego." She gazed into his beautiful eyes one last time. "Maybe ..." she added thoughtfully. "Maybe if we're meant to be together, we will be. Someday."

  Then she raised her mouth to his and let herself kiss him quickly. If the kiss had lasted a second longer, she knew she wouldn't have been able to leave him. She pulled back just in time, ran her finger along his sharp cheekbone, and walked off into the night, half hoping he would follow her. But he didn't. As Alexa crossed Washington Avenue, she told herself she'd done the right thing. If only the right thing didn't feel like utter heartbreak.

  Back in her room at the Flamingo, Alexa locked the door and settled on the carpet. She'd stopped at the drugstore on the way back and purchased new nail polish. Mani-pedis were Alexa's favorite form of therapy, after shopping and boys. She didn't have the energy to try on clothes now, and boys, of course, were out of the question.

  Alexa rubbed nail polish remover on her nails, thankful for the quiet around her. It was eleven o'clock, and everyone on her floor was most likely

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  already out for the night, lining up for some club or another. For an instant, Alexa wondered what Holly was doing, but then she dismissed the thought entirely.

  Alexa was unscrewing the cap on her jar of Mystique Pink when somebody rapped on the door. She glanced up, irritated at the interruption. Was it Holly? Or, more likely Kaitlin, acting as Holly's proxy again? Alexa wasn't sure which would be worse. Then the person knocked again and tried the doorknob.

  "Come in!" Alexa called imperiously.

  There was no response at first. Finally, a male voice asked, "Alexa?"

  Alexa caught her breath. No. It couldn't be. How would he know to find her here?

  She stood and walked slowly to the door. Her imagination was playing tricks on her. It was probably Thomas,
still hoping she'd be up for clubbing tonight.

  But when she unlocked the door and eased it open, she learned that her first guess had been accurate.

  "Tyler?" she whispered. She wanted to pinch herself. Was she actually looking at her ex-boyfriend? Here? In Florida?

  Tyler ran a hand through his thick, dark-blond hair and gave Alexa a sheepish half smile. He had his black messenger bag slung across his chest and was carrying a Puma duffle. He wore jeans, a hooded

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  sweatshirt and Timberlands. He must have just flown in from New Jersey. But how? And why?

  "Hey," he said awkwardly. "Surprise."

  Alexa stared at him, speechless.

  "Can I come in?" Tyler asked, gesturing to his bags.

  "I why -- why are you here?" Alexa spluttered. "I never told you I was going to South Beach." Dazed, she moved aside to let him enter, then shut the door and turned to face him as he set his duffle and messenger bag on the floor.

  Seeing Tyler in the middle of her room at the Flamingo felt no less bizarre than if a spaceship had suddenly crash-landed on the beach. Alexa shook her head, then sank onto the edge of Holly's bed.

  "I know," Tyler said, cracking his knuckles. "At first I figured you were spending the break in Oakridge, like me."

  "So, wait, you didn't go to Aspen?" Alexa asked.

  Tyler shook his head and smiled sadly. "Of course not, Alexa. Who was I going to go with at the last minute?"

  Alexa stared down at her bare toenails. That made sense. It also made her feel beyond guilty.

  "So I'm at home this week, watching, like, way too much TV," Tyler continued, as if he'd rehearsed just how to tell Alexa his story. "And on Monday night, I start watching Pulse's spring break special. Just to torture