The Hazards of a One Night Stand

by Ivy, Alyssa Rose

  “Nothing’s wrong with him,” I mumbled. “I have a date with him tomorrow.”

  “What?” Brody slammed his glass on the bar.

  “He came by earlier and asked me out again. I decided, why not?” I tried to make it sound nonchalant, but I understood their surprise. I’d been turning the guy down all summer. I’m not sure what changed my mind. Maybe knowing I wasn’t leaving made it worth the effort of going out on a date. It had been a while since I’d been on one. Colin had caught my attention the first time he walked in, but my mind was already preoccupied.

  Max patted my shoulder. “Good for you, but if he treats you anything less than as a lady, you let me know.”

  I smiled. “All right. I will.”

  “Who says Maddy’s a lady?” Macon was ready for the attack, and he ducked before my hand could make contact with his face.

  Max shook his head and walked off. He was used to our banter.

  “Where’s he taking you?” Macon’s voice rose slightly, the only hint he might be moving from jokester to protective friend. He could pretend all he wanted, but he cared about me.

  I made him a second Long Island and set it in front of him. “Picnic on the beach.”

  Macon sipped his drink. “So he wants you in a secluded spot so he can seduce you. Are you sure you want to go?”

  Brody shook his head. “No. If that was his goal, he’d have offered to make dinner at home. Picnic on the beach means he’s trying to impress her. He wants to show his romantic side.”

  I opened a bottle of water. “I like Brody’s version better.”

  Macon snorted. “Of course you do. You’re a girl.”

  “Weren’t you the one accusing me of imaginary fucking earlier?” I took a long sip of water. Even at eight o’clock at night it was still hot out.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that you want romance. You want a guy to sweep you off your feet, and you’ll believe anything to get it.” He made a broad sweeping motion with his hands.

  “No, I just want Lyle to say more than three words to me.”

  Brody leaned forward on his elbows. “That’s your problem. Your expectations are entirely too high.”

  “Yeah, ridiculously high.” I set down a chilled glass and grabbed the Johnnie Walker Red Label. I measured out the liquor precisely, even though I could eye it better than most. I liked to pretend I was putting my chemistry major to good use when I made drinks. It made the four years I spent in college seem worth it. If you really think about it, making drinks is all about using the right ingredients with the right properties together.

  I finished and took a deep breath before turning back toward my roommates. “Wish me luck.”

  Brody gestured for me to lean in. “May the Force be with you.”

  “Your Star Wars nerdiness might be one of my favorite things about you.”

  “It takes one to know one.”

  “Have I ever denied it?”

  Macon leaned over. “No, but you hide it really well. You lure guys in with those short dresses and skirts, but little do they know they’re dating a total geek.”

  “Geeks can be attractive. There’s nothing exclusive about one or the other. Besides, I think I officially lost my geek status now.” I picked up the drink and walked over to where Lyle was plugging in and tuning his guitar. He played one of those acoustics with a pickup.

  “You’re still a geek!” Macon called after me. “No amount of paper can change that.”

  I smiled. I let Macon think he got to me more than he actually did.

  I stopped a few feet away from Lyle, but he still hadn’t acknowledged my approach. I wasn’t sure if it was the noise from the customers, or because he didn’t care to talk to me until he had to. “Hey.”

  “Oh, hey.” He glanced up and ran a hand through his brown hair that was kind of long and screamed “surfer boy.” Although the surfer and musician look overlapped sometimes.

  “Here’s your drink.” I’d given up asking him if he had a preference weeks before. He told me to surprise him, so I did. The only problem is he almost always took just one sip. I was usually good at picking the right drink for people, but evidently the skill wasn’t working on Lyle.

  “Thanks.” He nodded and smiled slightly. He didn’t have a toothy smile; it was more of a closed-lip thing, but it still did something to me.

  “You’re welcome.” I waited a minute to make sure he wasn’t going to say anything else before heading back to the bar.

  Brody spun around on his stool as soon as I got back behind the bar. “Did you at least get four words?”

  “Nope. ‘Oh. Hey.’ And ‘thanks.’”

  Macon swirled the ice in his glass. “That jerk. He could have at least said thank you instead.”

  “Maybe next time.”

  “Or you could take my advice.”

  I sighed. “Let’s enjoy the music.”

  Brody rested his elbow on the bar. “You’re the only one who thinks he’s that good.”

  “Come on. His lyrics are incredible.”

  Brody glanced at his watch. “He’s got a good voice, but I don’t get why you are so into his songs.”

  I shrugged. “You guys don’t get it.”

  Macon rolled his eyes in that annoying way of his. “Of course we don’t. We are far too lowly to understand the message behind his music.”

  Any chance to reply disappeared when Lyle took the microphone. “Hey, everyone. I’m Lyle Waverly and here are a few of my messed-up tunes.”

  After a long intro, his low gravelly voice broke in. I closed my eyes focusing on the lyrics.

  Loving the loneliness…loving the empty space. We can all take off our masks now, life’s about the escape.

  “Excuse me? Miss?” I opened my eyes and groaned.

  Macon and Brody laughed as I tried to rein in my annoyance at getting interrupted.

  “Can I get a Heineken and a Sex on the Beach?”

  “Seriously?” I said with more of an attitude than I meant to. That’s how you know you work in a tourist trap. I mean, non-beachside bars couldn’t possibly sell so many of these things.

  “Is that a problem? Do you not have Heineken?”

  “We have Heineken.” I turned around, grabbed the beer, and made yet another Sex on the Beach. I tried to concentrate on the music while I worked, but the guy ordering the drinks was busy talking to my roommates.

  “Here you go.” I set down the drinks after adding the orange and maraschino cherry. As pointless as it sometimes seems, garnish has its place. Presentation has more value than you’d think. “Do you want me to open a tab?”

  “Oh, no thanks.” He put down a twenty. “Keep the change.”

  I leaned against the back counter again right as Lyle finished the song. Darn it. It had been a new one, and I hoped he’d play it again. I was in need of a new song to dissect.

  Brody used the break for applause to lay it on me. “Lucky Max didn’t see the way you treated that guy.”

  “Come on. He deserved it.”

  “Oh? Is there a sign that says don’t bug the moody bartender while she’s listening to her dream boyfriend sing?”

  I crossed my arms, determined to enjoy the rest of the set.

  Lyle started singing again, and thankfully this time no one interrupted.

  “Oh my god, Maddy, you missed it.” Macon downed his water. I’d cut him off after two drinks since he was driving home.

  “What?”

  Macon leaned forward, his face stopping only a few inches from mine. “He took three sips.”

  “Really?” He rarely took two sips—and three? It was a new record. I looked at Brody. He usually gave everything away.

  He nodded.

  “Hmm, I guess he does like whiskey.”

  Yeah, I was pathetic.

  Kissing Eden

  T.A. Foster

  Book Description:

  Have you ever thought of taking a vacation alone? I mean step on a plane, check into y
our hotel, and lie on the beach completely and utterly alone. No? Me either, but then right before senior spring break I got dumped.

  Something about break ups makes you do things you didn’t want to do, and try things you didn’t know you were capable of.

  That’s how I ended up at the Palm Palace.

  That’s how I met Grey.

  That’s how my spring break turned into the most unforgettable week of my life.

  It fell around my feet in loosely spun swirls. I kicked the blond strands to the side before gathering the thickest handful in my fist. I looked at my reflection, and ran the dulled blades between my forehead and the length of hair I was holding away from my face. The metal edges clipped across, making a squeaking noise with each cut.

  There.

  I ruffled my newly shorn bangs through my fingertips. It was drastic, but so was starting over.

  I threw the chunk of hair in the trash before turning off the light in the bathroom.

  That was it. My big rebellion. My in-your-face-I’m-over-you statement. I had seen it in a movie somewhere, or maybe it was in a song—I couldn’t remember. I only wished the girl who had cut off her hair in protest and styled new bangs told me what I was supposed to do now.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Miss, you need to go ahead and turn off all of your electronic devices.” The flight attendant smiled while she shoved an overly packed bag into the compartment over my head.

  I powered down my phone, and tucked it in the front pocket of my backpack before pushing it under the seat with my feet. The man next to me edged me off the armrest with his elbow. I sighed, realizing the three-hour flight to Houston from Raleigh would not be a comfortable one.

  This was not how I pictured the start of my senior spring break. I blamed Brett.

  I admit it was slightly reactionary to chop my hair into a shaggy shoulder-skimming do, and maybe I didn’t think through my options as carefully as I should have, but I knew Brett loved my long hair. He would tangle his fingers through it, and beg me to pull it down every time I sported a ponytail. I lashed out at him with the only silent weapon I knew he would notice. Writing take-me-back letters, stalking, crying, or begging wasn’t my style.

  “I think we’ve grown apart. We’re not the same people we were when we first started dating.” He said that. He actually said those words to me after dating for three semesters, one summer, and a Christmas break.

  It was probably the shock of the conversation that kept me from pummeling him in my room. I thought we were going to grab some takeout and watch a movie. We had been planning a trip for spring break. I hadn’t packed a single thing, and we were supposed to leave in three days.

  “I thought it was the right thing to do. You know, tell you now instead of trying to make it through a trip together. It’s time for us to end this.” He said it with a smile, as if he was doing me a favor.

  “Is there someone else?” It was the only question I could put together. My brain tried to wade through the muck of Brett’s words.

  “Not exactly. You know, I just want to keep my options open.”

  I didn’t know, and I was tired of him implying that I understood what he was talking about.

  He leaned over and patted me on the back as if I was one of his fraternity brothers. “You’ll get over this, Eden. You know we’ve run our course. It couldn’t last forever.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve gotta go. I’m meeting some of the guys back at the house.”

  I could have tried to stop him, but rather than drag out a long breakup discussion, I let him walk out of my room. It was clear there wasn’t anything left to fight for. I walked straight to my bathroom and picked up the scissors.

  “You from Texas?” the armrest hog asked.

  “Uh. No. Visiting.” I shook the breakup from my mind.

  “What part?” He was leaning closer, which I didn’t think was possible with the proximity of our seats.

  “South Padre.” I desperately wanted to retrieve my phone and pretend I was busy.

  He chuckled. “Yep, it’s that time of year. You must be a spring breaker.”

  “I am. I’m meeting lots of friends there.” I paused. “And my boyfriend.” I had to force the last word from my mouth. There were no friends on the other end of this trip and certainly no boyfriend, but he didn’t need to know I was suddenly single.

  He reached for the in-flight magazine and flipped through the pages. “Well, have a good time. It’s a week you’ll never forget.” He stopped on an article and his attention shifted away from me.

  I didn’t know what I expected from this trip. Solo vacationing had never been my objective and something I had never done, but I wasn’t going to let Brett and his wishy-washy, keep-his-options-open plan stop me from experiencing my senior spring break at the beach. I had let Brett take the reins for way too long.

  My parents had paid for my plane ticket as a Christmas gift, and I couldn’t waste it because of him. Of course, now I wish we had planned a spring break with my other friends, but Brett’s cousins had talked him into South Padre. They said the spring breaks on the Texas island were legendary, and Brett wouldn’t pass it up. I could be in a car on my way to Myrtle Beach or Daytona with all the girls, but instead, I was on a plane to Texas, alone and squished next to a nosey, space-invading man.

  I leaned back as we taxied to the end of the runway, closed my eyes, and waited for the plane to launch into the air, toward spring break.

  ***

  Once we landed in Houston, I pulled my backpack from underneath the seat and turned my phone on. I had three missed calls from Brett. I didn’t want to talk to him. My anger toward him suffocated any creeping curiosity about why he was calling after three days of utter silence.

  I still had one puddle jumper flight to Brownsville. From there, I would hop on the resort shuttle that would take me to South Padre.

  “You be careful, young lady. Those Padre spring breaks can get a little out of control,” the man next to me warned. He had not taken any of my subtle hints.

  I smiled, scooted down the aisle, and walked off the plane.

  I had enough time between my flights to call Taylor, my roommate at Carolina for the past four years. It was a gamble to go potluck for roommate matching my freshman year, but the only girl from my high school I knew who would be there was the class know-it-all, teachers’ pet, who had no social skills. With the thousands of girls attending Carolina, I was willing to try for a roommate who at least knew what Facebook was. My parents had barely had time to close their car doors behind them before Taylor and I were on our way to Franklin Street for pizza. I knew our friendship was going to last longer than our college years. She was like the sister I never had. I tapped her name on my screen and waited for her to answer.

  “Eden! How is Texas? Are you there?”

  “Hey. I’m in Houston, waiting for my next flight.” I observed the passengers walking past me. I had never seen so many cowboy boots worn in one place. Everyone had them on.

  “We just checked into the hotel and we’re headed to happy hour. You doing ok?”

  “Happy hour?” It was only two o’clock. I questioned my usually conservative roommate, who never surpassed a self-imposed two-drink limit.

  “It’s spring break. I think it’s happy hour all the time this week. How are you doing? Have you heard from Brett?”

  I didn’t want to talk about Brett, but Taylor was worried and I knew she would keep pestering me about him until I could satisfy her concern. If the roles were reversed, I would do exactly the same thing. “He called three times when I was in the air, but I haven’t talked to him. I don’t want to.”

  “I get that but, what if you run into him in Padre? Don’t you two need to talk?” I could hear girls screaming in the background.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “I know you’re being strong, but you don’t have to pretend for me. You’ve got to be worried about seeing him. Admit that at least.”

>   I wasn’t willing to admit anything. My emotions seesawed between numbness and anger. Julie had tried to talk me out of the trip, but it didn’t work. I needed to focus on something to keep me from thinking about what Brett had said. Packing, boarding a flight, and making my way to my spring break destination kept me from fixating on what happened between us.

  “I’m fine. Stop worrying about me. South Padre is going to be the perfect vacay to get over that asshole. I couldn’t dream up a better way to forget him.” I smiled into the phone.

  “He is such an asshole. Do I need to write a list for you of all the stuff he did? It might be just what you need. I read in a Cosmo article somewhere that, if you make a list of all of the bad things in your relationship, it will help with closure. If you need me to start it, I’d put how he backed out as your plus one for your cousin’s wedding right at the last minute as number one. He was probably the worst boyfriend ever.”

  Taylor always had my back whether or not she liked my relationship with Brett. “Thanks for the offer, but I have the memories, unfortunately.”

  “I bet you could still change your flight. Why don’t you fly back and we’ll spend our senior spring break together—like we should have planned all along before Brett hijacked it. It’s just not the same without you here.”

  Taylor’s words struck a guilty nerve.

  “I have to go. My flight is boarding for Brownsville. I just wanted to see if you made it to Myrtle Beach. Tell the girls I said, hey.”

  “Ok, but call me when you get to the resort. And good luck.” She hung up, and I stood facing the gate, realizing for the first time that the flight was full of other spring breakers.

  While I was on the phone with my friend, the small waiting area had accumulated college students from all over the country, with only one thing on their minds: a weeklong party.

  I found an open seat and waited for the desk attendant to call my row. I only needed to make it through this one little flight, and then I’d be on my way to the resort. I could sort things out there. The beach, sun, and a fruity drink were calling my name.