by Russo, Jessa
Jess and I followed the other passengers off the airplane single file, and were greeted with intense heat when we exited. The sun was high in the sky and shining brightly. I tilted my head up, closing my eyes, and let the sun’s rays warm my skin. I sighed. I could do this. I already felt better.
The woman behind me cleared her throat.
I’d held up the line soaking in the sun, and Jessie was already halfway across the tarmac. Her blonde bob bounced with each step she took. She turned back and waved her hands around in exasperation.
I looked to the lady behind me and smiled. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay, sweetie. The sun sure feels great, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. It definitely does.”
“You better catch up to your friend there, hon; she looks about ready to explode from excitement.”
I nodded, my own wide smile matching hers, and turned back to the stairway. I hurried down the stairs and caught up with my travel partner. Jessie’s grin could only be classified as huge. Her tiny pink dress did little to cover her up, and I watched as every airport worker, along with just about every male traveler—and even a few of the women—watched Jessie bounce her way into the building.
The boys of Mexico better watch out; I was about to unleash a hot pink tornado on them.
Turned out everyone else’s excitement was infectious after all. I actually felt good. Well, maybe not good exactly, but definitely better. Jessie was beyond happy, the travelers around us were practically buzzing with excitement, and I was about to spend seven days in a Mexican paradise with the girlfriend I loved most in the world. I could do this.
Jessie grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. I was apparently going too slow for her liking, even though I was right behind her.
“Where are the people with the leis?”
“I think that’s only in Hawaii, Jess.”
“So? They should do it here, too. Except, like, greet us with a sombrero and a margarita instead of a lei.” She paused by a particularly cute airport worker and said, “Hola,” in the sexiest voice she could muster.
I swear the guy drooled.
I stifled a laugh and shook my head.
“Come on, harlot.” I pulled Jessie along, trying to avoid being the cause of any traffic jams or workers getting fired for spacing out on the job.
“Flirting, Ever, just harmless flirting. That hardly makes me a harlot.”
“No, what you plan on doing with the guys you meet later makes you a harlot.”
“I’m offended, Ever Van Ruysdael.”
“No. You’re not.”
Jessie squealed. “I know! I’m not at all! Know why?”
I humored her. “Why?”
“Because we’re in Meh-hee-co, you old bore! Ai ai ai ai!”
This time it was me who pulled Jessie forward, as we continued to follow the wave of tourists through the airport.
Going through Customs turned out to be a hellish experience, and I really hoped it wouldn’t be the same way on our way back into the United States. We retrieved our bags from the conveyor belt in baggage claim, then made our way outside in search of our hotel’s van service.
Luckily, the drive to the resort didn’t take too long, and the driver had cold Coronas and chips and salsa in the van waiting for us. Talk about service.
Jessie had no qualms about drinking—which had been obvious by the amount of margarita references she’d made leading up to the trip—and when her lips hit that bottle of beer, I wondered if she’d finish the whole thing in one swig. Who was this girl? I’d never been a big drinker, and even though I was legally old enough in Mexico, it still felt weird. But I took a few sips of beer to counteract the heat from the salsa. No harm in that.
Our timeshare hotel was even better than the pictures in the pamphlets the travel agent showed us. After checking in, we made our way to the room to drop off our bags and freshen up, but Jessie was in a huge hurry to get to the pool bar, so she reminded me numerous times that there would be no resting.
Our suite had two rooms near the entry, then a bathroom, and a kitchen/living area beyond that. A large sliding glass door shed bright sunlight into the living area. I picked the room on the left and threw my stuff down on a small blue chair in the corner. My balcony looked out to the ocean, and the crystal blue water was hypnotic. I sat down on the bed, stretching out my legs, and noting with relief how soft the mattress was. Maybe I’d actually get a good night’s sleep.
“Oh my God! Can you believe this hotel suite? It’s like a condominium!” Jessie’s voice was far away, and I wondered how big the suite actually was. Guess I’d have to eventually venture past my room to check it out.
The walls of the bedroom were a bright, happy shade of yellow, and I have to admit, the cheery decor made me feel even less grumpy. I’d be enjoying myself in no time. Especially if Jessie had anything to do with it. My eyes were closed, but I didn’t need to see her to sense her impatience. I could hear her wedge-heeled foot tapping away in the doorway to my room.
“Oh no you don’t. I warned you on the plane. No rest for the wicked, remember? We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”
I opened one eye and looked at her. Dead for her meant something completely different than it did for me. After all, as far as we knew, I’d be dead in less than a year. Two-hundred seventy-eight days, to be exact.
“Oh. I mean…um…”
“It’s fine, Jess. Relax.”
“Sorry, Ev. I wasn’t thinking. But seriously, get up! We’re on vacation! Viva la Meh-hee-co!”
I laughed as she did a weird salsa-samba-sashay dance move thing over to the bed and tried to drag me off it.
“Fine! I’m coming, I’m coming! Just promise me you’ll never do that move again.”
“What, this?”
She shook her boobs in my face then spun around, making her little pink sundress expose the bottom half of her butt cheeks. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Jess, seriously, is that even a dress?”
“It’s a tunic.” She responded matter-of-factly, as if that was a logical answer.
“A tunic, huh? Well, I’m pretty sure that means it’s a shirt. You know, the kind you wear with pants? Or shorts? Or even a skirt?”
“I have pants on.”
“I don’t think underpants count, Jess.”
“I’m on vacation. I’m single. I’m an adult…and I’m about to put my bikini on under this anyway.” She shrugged, and I knew arguing with her was a lost cause. She fiddled with her cropped blonde hair in the mirror and turned back around to face me. “Speaking of pants…you’re changing, right? I mean, we are at the beach, you know.”
Leaving me to change out of my hoodie and jeans, Jessie ran out of the room, only to return seconds later with a determined look in her eyes and a yellow shopping bag in her hands. Uh oh. I knew that look. And that bag.
“I have something for you!” Jessie practically squealed in delight. “You were too sadpants to go shopping for the trip, so your mom and I did a little secret shopping of our own! Open it!”
Somewhat reluctantly but with a hint of curiosity, I took the plastic Forever 21 bag as she thrust it toward me. Noting the expectant look on her face, I couldn’t help but be excited. And slightly embarrassed—she’d been out with my mom, shopping for me and planning this awesome trip for the two of us, and I’d been nothing but gloomy and distant or focused only on Frankie. I felt like a total jerk.
I pulled out three brand new sundresses of varying lengths, all of them black or at least black as the main color, a new fringe bikini, also in black, of course, because clearly my mom and Jessie knew what I liked. The last item I pulled out of the bag was a pair of tight cigarette-pant style, black capris. I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my face.
“You like?” Jessie asked me, though she didn’t need to hear my response to know I liked the new clothes. I could imagine the quickly-forming tears in my eyes were proof enough. “Strip out of your pity-party
outfit and throw on a bikini and sundress. This is no place for jeans, Ever Van Ruysdael, and you need some color on those pale legs!”
I can’t say I disagreed. It was way too hot for jeans, and I had lost all of my tan. Every bit of color I’d had this summer faded away while I holed myself up in the house with Frankie the last few months.
Jessie left me alone, so I threw on the new bikini, happily noting that the fringe actually helped minimize my chest instead of adding bulk to it. I topped it with a black sundress that had varying sized white, lavender and teal stars all over it. The dress was super low cut and way too short, but next to Jessie’s tiny pink shirt, my dress looked like a muumuu. I grabbed my wallet, and left the bedroom, finding Jessie bouncing in place by the door of the suite.
As we made our way through the expansive hotel, we passed the media center and I paused.
“Oh, Ever. You just saw Frankie this morning. Let’s go have some fun! We’ll check our emails a little bit later, okay?”
She wasn’t asking, which was obvious by the way she pushed me forward. I nodded. She was right. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since I’d seen him. Heck, it hadn’t even been six hours. I could call him later tonight from the media center. I had a prepaid calling card and everything.
This trip was for Jessie and me—one last hurrah before she headed off to college without me. I should be focused on her…but I couldn’t shake this funny feeling. I just had this weird knot in the pit of my stomach that wouldn’t go away.
I’d seen the distance in his eyes again this morning when he drove Jess and me to the airport; I was sure of it. I mean, sure, he made small talk and listened to Jessie ramble on incessantly about her plans for us for the week, tossing an occasional smile my way, and laughing at all the right times…but every time he didn’t think I watched him, I caught the distance in his eyes.
Like he was somewhere else. Somewhere away from me.
Or wanted to be.
The pit in my stomach grew even more as I thought about it now. I debated telling Jessie my suspicions, but as she linked her arm through mine and pulled me out to the pool area, I realized it wouldn’t be fair to bring her down. I also didn’t want to tell her for fear that voicing my concerns would make them real.
Totally logical assumption.
Plus, if I were to tell her that I felt a small reaction to that look in his eyes, a feeling that told me something was missing between us…well. What would she think of me then? What kind of girl waits for a guy for so long—practically my entire life—then takes him for granted when he’s finally hers?
No. I didn’t want to talk about this with Jessie just yet.
The hotel was packed. Mid-Autumn in Cabo was definitely not the down time of the year. Bikinis and muscles were everywhere, and I briefly wondered why the pool even had a Shamu water slide because there were maybe four little kids in the pool area. As we made our way past the multiple pool decks, my enthusiasm grew.
“Welcome to Villa Del Palmar. What can I get for you lovely ladies?”
Jessie giggled as the bartender’s eyes slowly grazed over her. When he moved on to me, they widened for the slightest second as he took in my over-exposed chest. I felt like kicking Jessie for picking out this skimpy sundress, and then kicking the bartender.
Jessie pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning forward on the bar and turning on the Jessie charm, leaving me standing behind her like an idiot. Clearly, I was the only one who wasn’t completely intoxicated by the bartender’s accent, or his dark skin and exaggerated charisma. I shook my head and sat down on a barstool.
Jessie finally ordered her margarita. Hopefully that would be the last I’d have to hear about how badly she wanted one. I ordered a virgin strawberry daiquiri, and you’d think I’d ordered a side of deep fried alien toes for the crazy looks everyone directed at me. Even some random stranger sitting on the other side of Jessie. Sheesh.
“Fine. Make it a regular daiquiri. But go easy on the liquor.”
“Si, Bonita, your wish is my command.”
Yeah right. That drink arrived with more alcohol than was humanly safe. The first sip made my entire body shudder. I ate the cherry, spooned the whipped cream into my mouth, and played with the straw. There was no way I could drink the dangerous concoction. The stranger to the right of Jessie passed me a beer out of his bucket, and I took it, thanking him for the gesture—and the save. At least I knew the alcohol content of one beer wouldn’t kill me. That daiquiri, however, I wasn’t so sure about.
I’d almost finished the beer when I realized I’d been off in my own world again. Jessie was chatting with the guy next to her, who in my opinion was far too old to be talking to Jessie, but whatever. He had saved me from drinking that poison slush earlier, after all.
“Senoritas, tonight is local night at my favorite bar in town. For locals and guests. I would love the accompaniment of two beautiful girls such as yourselves.”
Ha! Yeah, I bet.
Accompaniment…was that even a word? There was no way we were falling for that nonsense. This bartender was a regular Don Juan Demarco. I wondered if he really spoke that way, or if he played up his accent for the tourists. His nametag said “El Paso, TX” underneath his name. Which was Juan. He really was a Don Juan. And not even from Mexico. The nerve.
I think I may have even scoffed aloud because I received a swift elbow to the ribs from my best friend.
“Oooh, local night! With locals! That sounds fantastic, doesn’t it?”
My jaw may have hit the floor. Here we were in this foreign country, and Jessie was just going to wander off to some bar with a total stranger. Shocked would be putting it mildly.
“Jess,” I whispered. “I thought our plan was to stick close to the resort.”
“Live a little,” she growled under her breath. Then she turned back to the bartender and beamed. “Of course, Juan! We’d love to go, right Ev?”
Expectant turquoise eyes turned back towards me, and I knew I was supposed to say something.
“Right, Ever?”
“Yeah, sorry,” I answered, as I shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts. I leaned in towards Jess to whisper. “Jess, seriously. Are you sure we should go? Is it even safe?”
“Si, senoritas, I promise you will be safe.”
“Said the wolf to Little Red Riding Hood,” I mumbled.
“Ever!”
Whoops. Jessie heard me. Didn’t know if the bartender had or not. Didn’t really care either. I was too busy flinching from the second elbow I’d just received to my rib cage.
“Fine, fine. Geez, Jess. We’ll go.”
Whether I was convincing or not didn’t seem to make a difference. Jessie tried to pay for our round of drinks, batted her thick lashes when Don Juan Demarco shook his head ‘no,’ then hurried off to the restroom, leaving me alone at the bar.
“Your friend is a very beautiful woman.”
I snapped my head back around and glared at him. “Easy there, Don Juan.”
He laughed as if I was being funny, then turned around to clock out and exchange cash register tills with the new bartender on duty.
“I will see you ladies here in two hours, yes?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
Ugh. What had I agreed to?
A date with the hungry wolf, that’s what.
Later that night, I realized that walking down the beach at sunset, in Cabo San Lucas, hand in hand with my very best friend in the world, was exactly what I’d needed, regardless of whom we were with, or where we were going. Jessie’s joy was infectious, and having not stopped with just the one drink, we were both a little tipsy. Well, I was a little tipsy. Jessie had guzzled down that easy-on-the-alcohol-yeah-right strawberry daiquiri I’d ordered earlier.
We were also not alone with our charlatan bartender, as the other guy from the bar had joined us. I was creeped out at first, thinking we’d been set up on some creepy double date, but then his wife and a few of their friends came alo
ng as well, so it was more of a group thing and less of a creepy-old-guys-hitting-on-teen-girls thing. They were on vacation from somewhere in the Midwest, and once I discovered their ages, I realized he wasn’t nearly as old as I’d originally thought. Oh well. I’d been grumpy earlier, and he never had to know that I’d pegged him for mid-forties when he was early-thirties. Whoops. My bad.
I wanted to believe that with the added people came added protection—safety in numbers and all that—and my worries were disappearing by the second.
Don Juan was leading all of us to a place called Skid Row, which I thought sounded kind of scary until I got there and read the sign: El Squid Roe. Squid eggs? Isn’t that what roe is? Well, that made absolutely no sense, but at least it wasn’t as scary as Skid Row. All I could think of with that name was serial killers and inmates, so naming a bar after baby sea creatures was far less scary than that.
Or so I’d thought. Because one hour into the evening, and Jessie was dancing on tables, which actually was pretty scary. Luckily, her skirt was long and flowy, and covered just about everything that her tunic hadn’t covered earlier. It was see-through, yes, but at least her cheeks weren’t hanging out, because she was coming toward me doing that shimmy-shake-sashay thing she’d promised to never do again.
Liar.
“Dance with me!” She tipped her head, indicating a stage behind her and smiling wildly.
“Oh no, Jess. Uh-uh. I’m not getting up there.”
Ignoring me completely, she pulled me through the crowd and climbed up to a makeshift go-go booth. Well, it was really just a large plywood box painted bright yellow, but Jessie started dancing around on top of it, and it seemed like it could hold her. Could it hold both of us? I highly doubted it and wasn’t about to find out. Sweating like a banshee, and suddenly dying of thirst, I motioned toward the bar.
“Good idea! I’m parched!” Jessie winked and gestured for me to get her a drink—at least I think that’s what she intended—then turned back to dance for the crowd of people that had been surrounding her all night. Even in Mexico people gravitated toward her like moths to bright lights.
