What Happens Over Spring Break: A Short Story Anthology

by Anthology

  I almost spit out my drink in laughter and raise my brows to Bert who has a similar expression. He shrugs and then mouths, Out of my hands.

  I mouth back, What a douche.

  He shrugs and turns up his palms, smirking like an idiot.

  “Oh, would you?” Gabby asks Simon in a ridiculously cheesy and seductive way. She then wraps her lips around the straw of her drink while eyeing Simon with her signature fuck-me eyes. Yes, my friend has legit fuck-me eyes.

  “If you’ll let me,” Simon counters.

  “I’d be willing to give you a chance.”

  Gabby cocks her head to me in question, darting her attention between myself, Bert, and Simon. She’s silently asking me my thoughts on our newly created foursome. I nod, giving her the go, and she takes the wheel. The ball is in her court anyhow.

  Quickly sucking down the rest of her drink, she places the empty glass on the bar and then hops off her seat. “Let’s dance.” Gabby grabs Simon’s hand and drags him to the dance floor, giving him no choice or say in the matter.

  “Care to join them?” Bert asks me with a tentative grin.

  “Sure. I don’t want you to be lacking in your wingman duties.”

  “I do appreciate you playing along.”

  Bert offers his hand to me like a gentleman. When our skin touches, I find myself looking deeper into the swirling colors of his eyes, noting the hint of yellow dancing around his pupils. His thumb grazes over the delicate part of my palm before he threads our fingers together, leading me toward the crowd of people dancing to the beat of the techno music.

  We find our way next to Gabby and Simon. Gabby is bobbing her head back and forth, swinging her hair over her shoulders while doing some sort of move that looks a lot like a seductive stripper dance or washing in the shower. Simon takes no time reading her signals and grinds on her, pressing his front side to her backside. If their clothes were removed, the world would get a view of some serious baby-making.

  Bert and I dance politely with one another, simultaneously robotically stepping side to side like two junior high schoolers at their first dance. Sadly, this time I didn’t get a corsage, but thankfully, my mother isn’t here to take pictures.

  When the music changes to something with a little more local flair, I playfully begin to pop my hips like a salsa dancer. I might as well have fun on our last night here, even if it means making a fool of myself. I’ll never see any of these people past this evening.

  Flirtatiously, I wink at the man across from me, trying to get him to play along because two people tangoing is always better than one. He doesn’t miss a beat, takes my hand in his, twirling me around and then tucking me into his chest before dipping me backward like it’s done in the movies. The maneuver happens so quickly, and before I know it, I’m upright once again and being spun out to arm’s length.

  Bert pulls me into him so that we are chest to chest and wraps his free arm around my waist, leading our bodies eloquently and with finesse on the dance floor. Everyone around us is too drunk to notice our more eloquent moves, including Gabby and Simon who are still grinding like hormonal teens.

  I laugh. “You take being a wingman very seriously, don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. However, I take women very seriously.”

  “Lucky me.” I teasingly waggle my brows.

  “With moves like yours, I think I’m the lucky one.”

  “Ha. I was just kidding around. You’re the one that took it to a whole other level.”

  He smiles, emanating pure charm. “I liked what I saw and couldn’t resist. It’s all your fault.”

  “Is that right?”

  “It is.” He inches his mouth closer, brushing my cheek. “Plus, it gave me an excuse to be a little bit closer to you. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Are you trying to make up for your fumbling earlier?”

  “Maybe.” His breath sweeps warmly across my ear. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I would cross a room for you.”

  “I thought you had views on one-night stands and being respectful to women. It was part of your spiel.”

  “I do. I’m still a man though, and can’t deny how much my body enjoys being close to yours.”

  “Oddly, mine enjoys touching yours as well.” I bravely nip at his earlobe. “A lot.”

  An hour later, Bert, Simon, Gabby and I are seated together at a booth in the corner of the club having another drink. After tearing up the dance floor with Bert, I’m high on life and buzzing immensely from the alcohol running through my system.

  Bert glances at his watch. “What time does this place close?”

  “Never. Or close to it, I think,” Gabby responds.

  “Do you have somewhere pressing to be?” I ask Bert teasingly. “You know, if you two need to bail on us, just say the word. We don’t want to keep you from your more important commitments of the evening.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Simon answers for him. He then puts an arm around Gabby, and she snuggles into him, placing a palm on his chest.

  “Actually,” Bert says, “I was asking because it felt like a good time to go somewhere else, and I was going to see if you ladies were game for a new environment.”

  “What did you have in mind?” I question and take a generous sip of my Piña colada. “We’re doing all the tourist stuff on our last night here.”

  “How about a beach walk?”

  “I’m in,” Gabby says and then seductively says to Simon, “Maybe we can go skinny dipping.”

  Simon raises his hand. “Check, please.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Men. Nothing like nudity as motivation.”

  “We are very predictable creatures,” Bert says only for my ears.

  “Trust me. We like to take advantage of that. Just look at my friend getting oh-so-close to your friend. She’s got him hook line and sinker to pick up our tab all by the mere mention of him possibly seeing her naked.”

  “And what about you?” Bert slides closer to me. “Do you plan to take advantage of my manly nature, Victoria?”

  “Nah. That’s boring.”

  “Boring you say?”

  “Yep. I like surprises and a bit of adventure. Before the foregone conclusion.”

  “Which is?”

  “The rubbing of naked bodies together. I mean, you are doing a great job already. Your dance moves totally took me by surprise. I’m curious to see what else you have in your arsenal of attractive qualities.”

  “You find me attractive?” His eyes widen.

  “Pieces of you.”

  “Like what? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Well, that accent for one. Your dance moves. That silly grin you have. And oddly, your introduction—even though it pissed me off at first—in retrospect is nothing short of interesting. And I think interesting is very attractive. But I want more. That’s all surface stuff. There needs to be more substance. No need to race to the end.”

  “You like the chase?”

  “A little.” I pause a moment and then elaborate by saying, “I’m not really like Gabby. She likes to reach the finish line as fast as possible when she sees a goal, and Simon is definitely that. I like to take my time and make sure the journey is worth finishing.”

  “I guess it’s time to admit something to you.” His warm body presses dangerously close to mine.

  “What’s that?”

  “I love challenges and never back down from them.”

  “Do you think I’m a challenge?”

  His fingers trail the length of my arm, skimming the top of my shoulder. “I think you want to be one, and I’ll gladly take you on.”

  “What are you doing?” I ask, focusing on pattern his digits draw over my skin.

  “Beginning that journey.”

  “It might be a marathon,” I warn.

  “I don’t have a set goal.” He leans in close so that our noses kiss. “I’m just concentrating on t
he race.”

  “So tell me about yourself, Victoria,” I say as we walk next to each other along the surf, holding hands. I haven’t been able to stop touching her since we were inside the club.

  “What do you want to know?” She asks, not looking at me, but across the water.

  “Let’s start with the basics, like where are you from?”

  “Iowa, but I go to school in Chicago. I’m an English major with a focus on creative writing. How about you?” She slides her hand around my bicep, bringing us closer together. “If you tell me you’re from someplace like New Jersey, I’ll know you’re lying.”

  I have to laugh at this. “Did the accent give it away?” My true voice has found its way out, the German inflections catching on certain vowels. She must have noticed but hasn’t said anything.

  “No, it was the dance moves. No one from New Jersey shakes their booty like you do.”

  “Ah, my secret is out.”

  “So…?” She presses.

  “I’m from a small country in Europe called Liechtenstein, but I was educated at a private school in Paris and now attend University in Dublin.” This is the first time someone has asked about my life since I’ve been here. Though I’ve had a few women approach me, the most common question being: is Simon single. None of my interactions have gone past what we've done so far tonight. I’m finding Victoria to be more and more remarkable the longer we speak.

  “When will you graduate?”

  “This spring.”

  “Me too.” Her smiling eyes meet mine, and they are pleased with this revelation. “And what do you plan to do after that?”

  “Grad school in England.”

  “Fancy schmancy.”

  I struggle with this saying but pretend I understand because she’s smiling. “You could say that. What about you?”

  “Not really sure. I was thinking of trying to get some real-world experience. Figured it would help with my writing. I’ve been saving for that backpacking across Europe thing that everyone always talks about doing. But I’ve never actually known anyone to do it. I really don’t want to go it alone, and no one I know seems to be game for an adventure like that. Not even Gabby, if you can believe that.”

  “Would it be strange for me to offer to go with you?” My ears burn as soon as the words leave my mouth. This is not in my character at all.

  She immediately balks at the idea. “Yeah right. I barely know you.”

  “I’m serious. Remember, this is a marathon between you and I. It might require some challenging terrain and long distances.” I mimic a runner in the sand.

  “You are the king of metaphors. You know that, right?”

  “Thank you.” I glance up at the moon overhead and breathe in a lungful of ocean air. “Backpacking across Europe. I like this plan.”

  “Shut up. Not happening. You could be a serial killer for all I know.”

  “Serial killers don’t dance the way I do.” I pull her to my chest and dip her quickly.

  “Ha. Ha. You might have a point.” She says with a laugh once she’s upright.

  “You are finally listening to reason.”

  “Okay, say we really do this. You know, travel through a foreign country with someone I met on a drunken night on spring break in Cancun. You would what? Just meet me at Heathrow, and we’d get a train pass and then go from there?” She pulls my hand into hers again, and we continue walking the shoreline, slowly.

  “If that’s what you would like. I have the summer off before I head to my master’s program. I could use some of this real-world experience that you speak of.”

  “You don’t have any real-world experience? Why do I find that hard to believe?”

  “You’d be surprised how little I have.” I give her hand a squeeze.

  “But you seem so well-traveled. I mean, well, you are here.”

  “With you.”

  “Right! Very real. I’m as real as it gets.”

  In a moment of bravery, and perhaps complete insanity brought on by this bewitching creature at my side, I lean down and capture her soft lips with a kiss. When I pull back, her eyes are closed, and there’s a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “I thought I might start with a new experience right now.”

  “Kissing an American?” She teases, her eyes opening slowly.

  “Kissing a girl I just met. Kissing a girl that I faked a story to walk across the room to meet.”

  Her breath catches. “You did what?”

  I smile at the look of astonishment on her freckled face. “My acting was that good?”

  “Yes. I thought you were a total asshole. Is that part of your charm?”

  “I wanted to talk to you, but didn’t know how. When your friend got up to leave, I seized the opportunity.”

  “And you made up a story that insulted me?”

  “It wasn’t meant to. I wasn't kidding when I said you make me tongue-tied.”

  “Well, I’m glad you were able to recover from your fumble.”

  “Me too.” I lean down to kiss her again, and this time she presses her whole body up against mine.

  The clearing of someone’s throat breaks into our moment.

  “Excuse me,” Gabby says. “Sorry to interrupt the love fest. We’re jumping in the water. Are you coming?”

  Victoria looks to me with a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Ever been skinny dipping in the ocean?”

  “Never,” I reply.

  “Looks like an ideal opportunity for a real-world experience for both of us.”

  “C’mon, then,” Gabby says. “Let’s go.”

  Gabby wanders over toward Simon’s naked silhouette in the moonlight. I grab Victoria’s hand and follow after her. When we reach a nearby cabana, she drops my hand and reaches for the hem of her sundress, pulling it up and over her head, revealing her mismatched tan lines from a week in the sun and different bikinis beneath her bra and panties.

  “Well, then, err,” I stutter. “I…”

  “You what?”

  “I…wow.”

  “Stop, you’re going to make me blush.” And she does from her cheeks to the top of her breasts. “I can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I’m inclined to think you’re lying to me.”

  She reaches for the hook of her bra behind her back and lets her breasts fall loose of the fabric confines. The lingerie falls to the sand, and she covers her nipples with her arm while stripping the little thong from her body with the other hand.

  I try not to stare, but it’s very, very hard. “I solemnly swear I am not lying to you.”

  “Not even in high school?” she asks, covering her bits and parts while I continue to pretend to be fascinated by the stars in the cloudless sky.

  “Never,” I say, lowering my shorts and boxers to the ground, giving her a good view of my very white ass. “Have you?”

  “Of course. We lived near a country club and used to sneak into the pool late at night. We were a bunch of rebel badasses.”

  This garners a barking laugh from me. “I bet you were. A rebel, indeed.” I straighten and cup my manhood. “Is it okay for me to look now?”

  “Knock your socks off.”

  My eyes finally find hers and heat rushes into my ears and cheeks at the sight of her. I’m no stranger to proper protocol in this situation, where I keep my focus on her face, but her eyes are roaming across my shoulders, over my pectoral muscles, down my arms, leading her attention toward my navel and the area I’m awkwardly covering with both hands.

  “So what do we do now?” I ask to break the tension.

  Her eyes snap to mine. We’re both blushing, and frankly, it’s adorable on her. “We swim,” she says like the answer should be obvious.

  “That’s it?”

  “Pretty much.” She gives a small smirk and then drops her arms to her sides and screams, “Race you!” before sprinting toward the water, not looking back.

  The waterl
ine is about fifty yards away, and I am a steady two steps behind her. When she is waist deep in the water, Victoria turns around, and I catch a quick glimpse of her again, fully naked and not covering herself, before she crouches into the water to cover her private parts. Not too far, off to our right, I see Gabby and Simon, frolicking—whoever invented this word should be scolded, but it’s appropriate—together above the lapping waves.

  “Hey, lady!” Victoria shouts over to her. “Everything okay over there?”

  “You betcha!”

  “Watch out for jellyfish,” she teases. “You don’t want to get stung.”

  “Same goes for you!”

  “Is that some kind of inside joke?” I question, sliding up behind her.

  “It might be.”

  “What’s the punchline?”

  “It’s between your legs.”

  “Oh,” I laugh. “Did you just ‘neg’ me?” I ask, using Simon’s term for negativity he shared with me earlier in the evening.

  She turns around. Her gaze roams my face and falls to the clear ocean water between us. “No reason to. Nothing negative about you that I can see.”

  The water is warm, but the feel of Bert’s naked body so close to mine is infinitely hotter. Both physically and metaphorically.

  “So now we swim?” Bert questions. I note the small space maintained between us. Like we are both doing our best to be as close as possible without touching one another, creating an imaginary wall of chastity.

  “If you want.” My voice shakes giving away the nerves I’ve been trying to keep under control. Skinny dipping, in my experience, is awkward and fun. This time, it’s definitely awkward, but even more so...hormonal. At least for me.

  “What if I don’t want?” His fingers graze my hands, then my forearms, finding their way higher until tracing the shape of my shoulders. “I’m trying so hard, Victoria, to be a gentleman. I really am. But swimming is the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

  “Mine, too.” I swallow. “It’s all your fault though.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You really should have covered your manly bits a little better when making your way into the water.”