Into the Night

by Marin Montgomery

  She ties it for me. “Absolutely.” She snorts. “Plus, I have a surprise for us.”

  “Me too.” I laugh.

  “What’s yours?” She’s curious, adjusting her boobs in the nude bra she’s wearing underneath the white tank top. Pulling the bottom into a knot, she shows off her tan stomach.

  “I swiped some airplane bottles of vodka from the maid’s cart earlier.” I narrow my eyes. “I thought we could mix them with pop.”

  “Done.” She’s giddy. “I put some Mountain Dew in the fridge earlier.”

  “And…”

  “And what?” She gives a nervous, high-pitched giggle.

  “Seriously?” I nudge her. “What’s your surprise, brat? Hello Kitty nail polish?”

  “Sure.” She’s sarcastic. “If that’s what you prefer…”

  I stare her down, my older sister death glare she’s come to know so well.

  “Okay, okay. I got us fake IDs.” She motions to the sink. “Let’s get your hair curled so maybe your toes will curl later on Nick’s bed.”

  “Nicholas.” I correct. “He goes by Nicholas.” We look at each other and laugh.

  Sliding onto a stool in front of the mirror, my mouth twists in a grimace.

  She’s lying.

  Has to be.

  I thought about getting us fake IDs on my college campus but figured she’d tell Mother and they’d pull me out of state school, forcing me to become a housekeeper or maid.

  “You’re kidding, right?” It’s too good to be true.

  She shakes her head. “Will knows a guy. He’ll have them for us tonight so we can go to a couple cool beach clubs. I gave him a hundred bucks.”

  “Where was I when you talked to him about IDs?”

  “Trying to poorly surf.” She points to her pink LG slide phone. “You spent so much time in the water I got a video.”

  I squeal in delight. “These last few days might turn out to be like spring break after all.” We both start jumping on our king bed, slapping palms, giddy with excitement.

  “This is the raddest thing you’ve ever done, you brat,” I squeak.

  “I know.” She does a flip off the bed and runs to the mini-fridge. “Time for drinks.”

  I jump off the edge of the mattress, grabbing the hidden bottles from my beach tote. I pull the plastic wrap off the glasses and dump the Mountain Dew and vodka in.

  This trip is turning out better than I expected, I think to myself.

  We gyrate around, singing ‘Loosen up my Buttons’ like the crazy teen girls we are, using a make-up brush and a Mountain Dew bottle as a microphone and shaking our asses as we dance around the seventeenth-floor room, a tornado of clothes and make-up strewn about like the miscreants we are.

  Sloshing our glasses in solidarity, we stir the contents to mix them with a straw, taking a sip. I tilt my head back and take an impressive swallow, wanting to look like the more advanced and experienced sister.

  I notice her taking small gulps as she tries to mimic me, mumbling under her breath.

  “What?” I can’t hear over the loud music.

  “Thanks for letting me come.” Her voice sounds small. “I’ve had a really good time with you.”

  I slam the rest of my drink and pour another one. “I’ve had a good time with you too.” I give her a genuine smile, pouring her a second round.

  She sits me in front of her on a chair, singing as she turns my straight dark hair into a mass of loose-flowing curls, the opposite of hers tonight. Bristol keeps hers straight, flattening it with a straightener and smoothing spray. I help her clip in the hairpiece, looking like a total rocker chick.

  We take a final look at the floor-length mirror behind the bathroom door, whistling in appreciation. Her black and hot pink plaid skirt hits her mid-thigh.

  Not long enough to get her out of the house under our parents’ watchful eyes.

  Enough to get her out of the hotel room under mine.

  We smile at each other, exchanging mischievous glances as we wink.

  She turns around and hurriedly hugs me.

  Surprise registers on my face. It’s a rare sign of affection between the two of us and because of this, noteworthy.

  Etched in my brain.

  The last time I remember hugging my sister.

  7

  Blair

  Will Loomis and Nicholas Mercer arrive on the seventeenth floor a few minutes later, rapping on the door with their knuckles.

  Bristol gives herself a quick once over and nods at me. “Let’s do this.”

  They’re both dressed in what I would expect of Hawaiian locals, casual button-down shirts and khaki shorts, flip-flops, and casual jewelry. Will has his hemp bracelet, Nicholas a leather necklace with a polished shark tooth.

  Both are attractive in their own ways – Will with his large chestnut-shaped eyes, thick eyebrows, and dark hair that curls wildly after he’s in the water. His face is attractive, but a too large nose keeps him from being model perfection.

  Nicholas on the other hand is average height, slightly taller than me, with a lean torso and limbs. He has fair skin and freckles in the sun, and eyelashes that girls try every mascara and serum to attain. I notice small scars trailing down his legs, unnoticeable at first glance unless you take a second look. His smile is disarming, perfect teeth except for the one crooked one, his lips plump and full.

  “We come bearing gifts,” Will yells as he walks in, a cup in hand, the lax environment perfect for public drinking and intoxication.

  “Our new IDs?” Bristol’s excitement is palpable. I want to bottle it up and contain it, except for an uneasy feeling twisting in my gut. I don’t know why the turmoil, the boys seem harmless and aren’t much older than we are. Will’s twenty-two, Nicholas is twenty-one.

  “You’re at least eighteen, right?” Will peers at Bristol, lowering his eyes to her chest. It makes me uncomfortable the way he ogles her.

  “Yes.” She lies. I don’t correct her, the small fabrication of her age not a big deal. In some states it’s statutory rape since she’s under eighteen, but we’re just going to hang with them tonight.

  “Then we can party.” He brushes a thumb over her cheek as she smiles warmly at him.

  “We brought you leis.” Nicholas laughs. “Thought we could lei you right here, right now.”

  Bristol thinks this is hilarious, a throaty laugh escaping her lips.

  I think it’s corny.

  Forcing a smile, a white and magenta flowered lei goes over my neck, courtesy of Nicholas, as he settles my curls around it in a halo. “Perfect.” He steps back to admire his work.

  “What kind of flowers?” I ask, fingering a petal delicately.

  “Plumeria.” He hands the other one to Will. “Put it on your princess.”

  Will does the same thing with her lei. Bristol glances down, careful to make sure her necklace doesn’t get twisted up in the adornment.

  Nicholas notices the empty vodka bottles on the sink.

  “You guys get a head start without us?”

  I motion at his red solo cup. “Seems like you got further.”

  “That we did.” He gives me a big smile. I notice one crooked canine that’s endearing to me.

  “Plus we’re out of alcohol.” Bristol points at the airplane bottles. “Not much damage we could do with that.”

  “Where are your cups? We’ll refill them.” Nicholas elbows Will. “You still got that bottle in your backpack?”

  Will pulls off a khaki-colored knapsack with a drawstring that’s on his back. “Yep, I got you covered.” He loosens the top and pulls the contents out. “I’ve got vodka, pineapple juice, and…”

  He points at Nicholas. “Drumroll please…”

  Nicholas makes a staccato noise and bops his fingers on the nightstand. “Weed.”

  With a flourish, Will pulls out a blunt.

  “And ladies and gentlemen...”

  He opens his faded brown leather wallet. Two IDs with the state of Hawa
ii emblazoned across the top, a rainbow splashed in the background, are housed in the clear front plastic.

  “Here, you are now…Haley Pritchett and Leslie Billings.”

  “How did you come up with those names?” Bristol eyes the plastic.

  “They were what my friend had. Local girls.” Will shrugs. “You each look kind of like one.”

  I don’t argue, but I can’t see any likeness between Haley Pritchett and myself besides our dark hair. Scrutinizing it closely, I see my birthdate is now October thirteenth, 1977, which would make me twenty-one. According to these IDs, my younger sister is now a year older than me.

  “You guys need to memorize the birth date and year. Make sure you can recite it if a bartender or bouncer asks.” He unscrews the bottle. “I’m going to give you guys a refill. You both like pineapple?”

  We nod in unison. Will heads over to the discarded cups on the bathroom counter and starts pouring.

  Bristol turns to me. “Do you think I look enough like Leslie?”

  I shrug. “Not really, minus the blonde hair,” I examine her ID, “and it’s platinum.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Nicholas reassures us. “They don’t look at ‘em that close. We just need them for insurance in case you’re ID’d. We don’t want to get thrown out or arrested.”

  Memorizing the date on the license, I put into my memory bank Haley’s address and note that she’s an organ donor. Bristol and I take turns quizzing each other on our new birthdays.

  Will brings our cups over to us. “Hang ten, ladies.” He throws his hand up in the shaka sign. “Drink up, tonight’s gonna be a night to remember.”

  A warning bell goes off in my head but I ignore it, focusing on swishing the contents of the cup together and taking a swig, the contents way too strong, the vodka drowning out any taste of fruit juice.

  Bristol makes a face, mimicking my expression.

  She gulps it down, quickly shooting it back, liquid dripping down her chin.

  After we finish our drinks, the boys suggest we grab some food. A pizza joint’s within walking distance, like most places on Waikiki Beach.

  The four of us scoot into a booth, staggering, our tongues wagging and our heads clouded with liquor.

  We chat incessantly, Nicholas and I on one side, elbows touching as we sit next to each other. Will’s more upfront about his feelings for Bristol, his hand resting on her bare knee. I want to scream at him to remove his fingers, she’s only seventeen, but she seems oblivious. There’s no indication of discomfort on her part. If anything, her body language betrays her – she’s so close to him she’s practically in his lap.

  “Let us order the drinks here,” Will says. “They really give the stare down at IDs since it’s a restaurant.”

  “Won’t four drinks be suspicious?” Bristol asks.

  Nicholas laughs. “Nah, we’ll order two drinks and share them and then another two.”

  “Oh,” Bristol’s meek. “Gotcha.” I can tell she knows she asked a dumb question, so I give her a reassuring smile.

  “What’re we doing tonight?” I change the subject from booze to our night plans.

  “I thought we could start at a bar close by and then end on the beach. It has live music and we can sit outside, perfect weather.”

  Will grabs Bristol’s hand, lacing his fingers in hers. “Does that sound okay?”

  She nuzzles his neck. “It sounds perfect.”

  When the waiter comes back, Will and Nicholas order double greyhounds.

  “What’s a greyhound?” Bristol runs her hand through Will’s dark hair, tugging his earlobe.

  “Vodka and grapefruit. But we doubled up.” Will winks. “Everyone wins with more vodka.”

  I hope Nicholas doesn’t get any ideas with me. I don’t even know the guy.

  Bristol and Will start talking amongst themselves, and I take it as my cue to turn to Nicholas and ask questions. “So you’re in school here but moved from Utah?” I ask. “What’s your major?”

  “I’m gonna be a dentist like my dad,” he explains. He moved from Utah four years ago to pursue dental school. It’s his father’s profession and he wants, or more specifically, is expected, to follow suit.

  “I’d rather be a photographer.” He’s glum. “I love taking pictures.”

  “Is that why you’re a videographer on the side?” I take a sip of the drink he pushes towards me.

  “Yeah, I photograph a lot of beach weddings since there’s such a demand for them. I haven’t dropped out of school, but it’s all I can do to keep going in a field I have no interest in.”

  He shrugs. “My dad said he wouldn’t pay my student loans if I dropped out, so I guess I’ll keep going. I just hate teeth.”

  “Hard to imagine for a dentist,” I tease.

  “I know.” He hunches forward.

  “It sucks. I can totally relate,” I offer. “My parents are the same – mine hold the purse strings and don’t support my passions in life. Parents can be such a drag.”

  He gives me a small smile. “I know. It’s such a drag sometimes.”

  “Do they expect you to move back to Utah after school?”

  “We haven’t discussed that.” He frowns. “I have no intention of moving back but if I can find a job here, I don’t see a reason why they would assume that.”

  “Does your dad expect you to take over his practice?”

  “Potentially, but my brother’s two years older and will be graduating this year from dental school at BYU. He’s slated to join my dad.”

  “Room for three?”

  He shrugs. “God, I hope not. I want to live in Hawaii, surf, take pictures, and capture moments. I just have to be proactive and find a job here before it’s expected of me to join them in practice.”

  I smile at him, noting how blue his eyes get when he talks about what he’s passionate about – surfing and photography.

  “What about you?” His eyes search mine, locking me down with his gaze until the waiter comes back with the next round. Taking a long sip, he waits until their back is turned before pushing the glass into my hand.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “What’s your story?” He’s curious.

  “Sophomore year of college in Nebraska. Alpha Delta Pi sorority.” I twist the salt shaker on the table. “Uh, I grew up in a small town, my parents are still there.”

  I’m rambling on about my family when he interrupts. “I don’t mean to be rude,” he motions, “but may I?”

  Shaking my head, I close my eyes, expecting to feel his lips on mine.

  I hold my breath, waiting, as he leans in close.

  But I feel nothing except raw disappointment when I don’t feel him connect with my face.

  Until his finger touches my jaw and gently pushes a strand of hair off my face. “Sorry, that piece of hair is all I can focus on, it keeps getting in the way of your beautiful eyes.”

  It’s the first time I feel such strong chemistry with someone, the desire and attraction building as his contact with my skin makes me tingle.

  My unsettled feeling melts, my eyes are drawn to him, I twist his leather necklace, pulling him close, taking initiative I didn’t know I had.

  8

  Blair

  The alcohol hits me full force, my feet uneven on the sand as we hit Will’s suggestion for a good time, a beachside bar called The Ocean Club.

  My face flushes crimson, yet my body trembles in a cold sweat. Grabbing the wooden railing, I drag myself up the ramp, the ocean calm against the lucid stars.

  The four of us wait in a short line, and a bouncer with tattooed sleeves and ear gauges stares indifferently at us.

  “Will.” He nods.

  “Sup.” Pushing Bristol and I forward, he asks for our IDs, barely reading the small print on the license. Securing an orange band around my wrist that establishes I’m of legal drinking age, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  That was easy.

  Almost too easy.
r />   The open-air bar is decorated like the bottom of a coral reef. An aquarium that’s an infinity pool for fish makes up the bottom half of the bar top, winding around, practically invisible to the naked eye. It seems like the sea life will swim directly out to you, a glass partition the only separation between marine biology and natural selection. The neon spotlight throws a beam against the bright glow of the tank.

  Despite the chill vibe of the atmosphere, a headache pounds at the back of my head, throbbing in turn to the music.

  Bristol is embarrassed, whispering in my ear that she has to puke, so I pull her into the bathroom, holding her hair as she spews the contents of dinner in the cold porcelain, her tan knees shaking as she kneels on the floor.

  “I feel awful.” She moans, head leaning against my arm.

  “Do we need to go home?” I’m concerned, standing over her in the cramped bathroom stall. I read the various comments on the bathroom walls, phone numbers for a good time, sexually explicit sayings, and nasty messages in black permanent marker meant for exes that did them wrong.

  “No, I don’t want to ruin your night,” she murmurs.

  “It’s not a problem.” I hand her some toilet paper to wipe her mouth. “I can always walk you back to the room.”

  “And leave me?”

  “I’m feeling Nicholas.” I grin. “I wanna see what happens.”

  “Are you going to sleep with him?” She’s curious.

  I shrug. “I don’t know, but I definitely want to make out.”

  “I don’t want to be at the hotel alone,” she whines. “Will you stay with me?”

  Remembering my parents, I did say I would look after her.

  On the other hand, I’m finally feeling like a normal college student that can flirt and make eye contact with someone of the opposite sex. It might even lead somewhere. I’ve been yearning to get my “V” card out of the way. My sorority sisters are appalled that I’m still a virgin. They like to point out that guys don’t like sleeping with newbies because they assume they’ll get clingy and latch on.

  “I’m not ready to go. Can you suck it up for another hour?” I brush her forehead with my hand. “Or better yet, can Will take you back to the room?”