Flirting with Boys

by Hailey Abbott

  Travis turned around. “Look, it’s just that Kevin told me today that the surf instructors at the beach are all hosting Derek Rodham next week.”

  Celeste must have looked blank because he burst out, “He’s like the biggest surfer on the West Coast! They get to surf with him and take a class. And I’m missing it because I’m stuck here in the desert!” He struck the water with his fist.

  “That sucks. I’m sorry,” Celeste said softly. To herself, she thought that Travis should just man up. It was his stupid prank that had gotten him here anyway. And besides, wasn’t he glad that she was here? “Anyway,” she said, pushing off the step and swimming over to him, “let’s forget about that. Give me a ride!” She jumped on his back.

  At first, he didn’t move. Then he grabbed her arms, held them around his neck, and dove under the water. He swam the entire length of the pool and then, just when Celeste thought she was going to choke, he surfaced. Spluttering, she gasped a lungful of air. “That was so long!” she said, flipping around so she could face him.

  He smiled grudgingly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, while he backed up against the pool wall. “Don’t think about any of that stuff right now,” she said softly, touching his cool lips with her mouth. He closed his eyes and nodded, running his hands up her wet arms. He slid them down her back and she pressed herself more tightly against him. His mouth pressed more firmly on hers and she shivered as the warm night breeze played over her shoulders.

  “You’re right,” he said, drawing back after a long moment. “You’re here, I’m here. I don’t care about anything else.” His breath tickled her cheek.

  “That’s right,” Celeste whispered. “Nothing else matters.”

  Chapter Nine

  Celeste sat at one of the desks in the main office a few days later, trying to figure out how many flower arrangements she needed to order for the wedding shower Mrs. Anderson was hosting for Taylor Hargrove, the daughter of one of the biggest restaurant entrepreneurs in L.A. Celeste stared down at the diagram of the Silver Room spread out in front of her and erased the little table sketch she’d just drawn. She took a swig of her caramel latte and glanced at her watch. Travis was supposed to come by once he was done mowing down by the main gates. Celeste erased another table and blew the dust off the desk, wondering idly how Travis could stand sitting on that smelly mower all day in the hot sun.

  At least the office was quiet and cool. Her mom and dad were in town, meeting with their accountants. Even the secretaries were gone. The computer system had gone down this morning, so Dad had given everyone a few hours off until the guy from IBM came.

  As Celeste bent close to the sketch and carefully drew in another table by the wall, the door clicked open behind her. She smiled to herself and pretended to concentrate. Footsteps crept across the carpet behind her and stopped. Celeste could sense someone standing right behind her chair. A pad of paper landed on the desk next to her. Celeste dropped her pencil and, without looking around, stretched her arms up and back, grabbing the person around the waist. “Hey, baby,” she said.

  “Wow, this is a nice change,” a voice said. Celeste suddenly realized that the person she was grabbing was much skinnier than Travis, and the voice wasn’t as gravelly. She jumped and her knee jarred the desk, spilling her cardboard cup of coffee—all over Mrs. Anderson’s seating plan. “Damn it!” she yelled, and leaped up.

  “Oops! Sorry,” Nick said.

  “What the hell are you doing? Quick, get something to wipe this off.” Celeste held up the thin white sheet of drafting paper on which the brown coffee stains were rapidly soaking in. Little drips of coffee ran off the sheet onto the desk. Nick looked around wildly for some paper towels or napkins, but there wasn’t anything in reach. Suddenly, he held up a hand. “I got it,” he said. With one quick movement, he pulled his T-shirt off over his head, revealing his golden-tanned torso, and laid the drafting paper down on another desk, pressing the shirt against it at the same time. The coffee soaked rapidly into the soft cotton, spreading through the fabric and lifting off the paper. Celeste stared. Nick Saunders standing half naked in the Pinyon office cleaning up a spill had to be the very last thing she’d expected to see today. She realized her mouth was hanging open a little and shut it quickly.

  After a minute, Nick held up the paper. “There,” he said, surveying it critically. “That looks a little better.” It was brown and wrinkly in spots, but all of the writing was legible.

  There was a little silence. Nick grinned at Celeste as if he was waiting for her to say something. She looked down at the stained sketch. “Uh, thanks.” More silence. “I, um, thought you were Travis.”

  “No, thank God.” The muscles in his chest flexed as he perched on the edge of the desk. Celeste noticed that he had a smattering of golden freckles across his shoulders. “But you can pretend I’m Travis if it means I get more of that,” he said.

  “Don’t start, Nick,” she warned.

  He widened his eyes innocently. “I just came down here to get some work done, and now I’m being accused of something I haven’t even done? Is this how you treat all your special Pinyon guests?”

  Celeste started to respond and then paused. “Wait—what do you mean, get some work done?” She turned and eyed the pad of paper, untouched by spilled coffee. Scribbling in blue ink covered the first page.

  Nick plopped down on a leather chair near the desk and propped his feet on the desk. He tipped back in the chair and laced his fingers behind his head. “For my screening party. Remember? The festival is coming up and this is my chance for some really big names to see my film. So I want the event to be the best one of the whole festival.”

  Celeste glanced nervously at the door. Why hadn’t Travis shown up by now? He was supposed to have been here ten minutes ago. She had a fleeting vision of her boyfriend bursting through the door, dressed up like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator, and blasting Nick into a pulp with some giant futuristic rocket-launcher.

  “Look, Nick, I’m sure your party is going to rock,” she said. “But honestly, I’m not helping you. That’s Devon’s job. She’s the guest relations rep. Sorry.” She sat down at the desk and picked up a pencil, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.

  Wishful thinking. Nick looked down at the scribbles on his paper and played with a stapler for a minute. “Who’s Devon?”

  “The. Guest. Relations. Rep,” Celeste said slowly, her patience waning. “And also my best friend. Trust me, she’s awesome. And has plenty of party experience to draw from.”

  “I don’t know.” Nick looked up and dropped his feet to the floor. He leaned forward a little. “I was really looking forward to working with you.” His voice dropped silkily.

  Celeste grabbed her phone. This had to stop. “How about I call Devon right now? So you guys can get started?” Rapidly, she texted Devon. Luckily, Nick couldn’t see the message, which read: HELP, MASSIVE FLIRT WANTS ME TO PLAN HIS PARTY, NEED YOU STAT. She pressed send and gave Nick a big smile, showing all of her teeth. “There. She should be here any minute.”

  The phone beeped and Celeste peered down at Devon’s return message. SUPER-DEVON ON THE WAY. BTW MESSAGE FROM TRAVIS. BROKE A BELT ON THE MOWER, CAN’T COME OVER. Celeste exhaled. At least she didn’t have to worry about a Terminator scene. She looked up at Nick. He was staring at her. Celeste looked away fast and then slid her eyes back. Still staring. Finally, she couldn’t help herself.

  “Why are you staring at me, Nick?” she snapped.

  Nick shrugged and tapped a pen on the desk. There was a little pause. The thought occurred to Celeste that she’d never actually been alone, like totally alone, with Nick for more than a few minutes. Well, except for those ill-advised hookup sessions last summer. The silence stretched out until it filled the room. Celeste wondered if he could hear her stomach rumbling and put her hand over her belly.

  Then Nick put down the pen and leaned forward a little. “So, Celeste, what’s your story?�
��

  “What?” Celeste blinked rapidly.

  “I mean, you and I have known each other for like five years or something, right?”

  Celeste considered this. “Yeah, that’s about right.”

  “Well, I can’t figure out why you’re still stuck here, working every summer. Did you commit some sort of crime at birth or something?”

  Celeste bristled until she saw the playful crinkles around Nick’s eyes. “Wait, what am I doing here?” she asked, going wide-eyed. “Oh my God! Rescue me, Nick Saunders!”

  Nick laughed. “Funny. I never noticed that about you before. But seriously—why do they make you work here every summer?”

  Celeste looked down at the now-dry seating plan. “It’s not that I’m chained to the resort or something. It’s just that…” She paused. “Well, my dad’s really into the idea of the family working together—like really into it. I mean, this resort is my parents’ entire life. I think if I told them I’d rather not work, they’d be really upset.”

  “So, you’re destined to be towel-folder and drink-fetcher until college?” Nick smirked.

  She shrugged. “I guess so. There was this program….” She stopped. She wasn’t about to tell Nick the Rich and Arrogant about her dream writing program just because he had managed to talk to her for twenty seconds without flirting. She looked down at the desk and made a little, insignificant mark on the seating chart.

  “What program?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Nothing.” Just then, the office door swung open and Devon walked in.

  Celeste jumped up in relief. “Hey, Dev. Thanks for coming over.”

  Devon smiled. “No problem.” She held her hand out to Nick. “I’m Devon Wright, the guest relations rep. I’m going to help you plan your party.”

  Nick took Devon’s hand in his as though it were a precious offering. Now his mouth was hanging open. Celeste could hardly blame him. Devon was wearing a skin-tight white linen sheath dress, a string of giant blue beads that hung down practically to her waist, and a huge pink hibiscus tucked behind one ear.

  As Celeste watched, Devon gave Nick a sexy little smile. “I’m going to make sure this is the best party ever,” she purred.

  Nick nodded dumbly, still hanging on to Devon’s hand. “Great,” he croaked. “That sounds great.”

  Celeste managed to stifle her snorting laughter in the crook of her forearm. Nick barely looked around as she crept from the room. Finally, Celeste felt like she’d found the one thing that could take Nick’s mind off her—her best friend.

  Chapter Ten

  To Celeste, it seemed like Nick and Devon were everywhere she turned over the next couple of weeks. They were always walking around the resort, their heads together, talking and laughing. Sometimes, they seemed to actually be doing some party planning. Celeste saw Devon taking digital pictures of the pool area one day, while Nick suggested various angles. And it seemed like every time Celeste hung out with Devon, Devon’s phone was ringing with another call from Nick.

  She should be grateful, Celeste told herself. After all, she finally had Nick off her back. He was so wrapped up now that he had even stopped calling her with useless requests for Perrier at room temperature or six lemons on ice. Anyway, she didn’t have time to think about the film festival. The resort was packed. Between Celeste’s nonstop work and Devon’s party planning, they’d barely had time to talk.

  On yet another blisteringly hot day, Celeste was gathering up dirty glasses and scattered newspapers around the pool. The place was oddly deserted—it was too hot to sit outside, so most of the guests had retreated to their rooms to wait out the middle of the day. As she stooped to retrieve a crumpled New Yorker from under one of the chairs, Celeste wished that she were lying down on a soft duvet-covered bed somewhere, in a nice cool guesthouse, with the shades pulled down and the AC going full blast. She straightened up. The pool water glittered like a hard blue jewel in the blinding sun. She could feel the heat of the deck boards even through the rubber soles of her boat shoes.

  Celeste heard footsteps behind her and turned around. Devon, looking beautiful and cool as usual in a pale yellow cotton sundress, with her black hair tied up at the back of her head, approached her. She was carrying two dripping cans of Diet Coke.

  “You are an angel,” Celeste said, accepting a frosty can and downing half of it in the first gulp. She collapsed onto a lounge chair. Devon perched on the edge of the next one and sipped her soda.

  “I know. I could see you slaving away out here from the office window and had to rescue you.”

  “Thanks, babe.” Celeste slurped again at her Diet Coke and wiped her forehead with her arm. “Were you working on party stuff?”

  “Yeah. I was going over some photos of the pool area. Nick wants to have this tent over the water that makes it look like a ice castle—he saw it in Vanity Fair.” Devon rolled her eyes. “I looked it up—it costs like five thousand dollars to rent!” Suddenly, she leaned forward conspiratorially. Celeste caught the look her on her face and started laughing.

  “What? Is that your latest attempt at a spy face?”

  Devon looked wounded. “Hey, I’m very stealth. Anyway, I was going to ask why you stopped hooking up with Nick? He’s so gorgeous!”

  Celeste rolled her eyes. “Because he went back to L.A. We’ve only ever been summer flirt buddies, and then, briefly, summer hookup buddies. Even before last summer, it’s not like we were friends or anything. He’s just a rich kid who enjoys annoying the staff of a resort his parents spend a lot of money at. Honestly, I’m just not into him at all. He’s so obnoxious! Don’t get me wrong—he’s like the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, but we’re so not right for each other. Plus, there’s Travis.”

  Devon shrugged. “You have known Nick a lot longer than you’ve known Travis, so I guess it probably would’ve happened by now if it was meant to be.”

  Celeste stretched her tanned legs out in front of her on the lounge chair and crossed her hands behind her head. “Ugh, I cannot believe we’re having his conversation about Nick Saunders. I owe you one for keeping him out of my hair this summer. I’m pretty sure Travis would have a stroke if he saw Nick hanging around me like he usually does.”

  “No problem.” Devon smiled. “I will definitely keep him out of your hair.”

  Celeste laughed. “Hey, did you hear about the staff party tomorrow night? It’s going to rock—Dave knows this amazing spot. There are these hot springs way out in the middle of the desert. You need a jeep to get out there, but they’re supposed to be awesome.”

  “I know!” Devon squealed. “The girls in the office told me about it. Is Travis going?”

  “Yeah, of course—you know he never passes up an opportunity for free beer. We can drive over around nine. Travis is going to take his Wrangler.”

  “Oh, fun! It’ll be just like that staff party in Dirty Dancing.”

  Celeste laughed. “Um, Dev, I think we need to talk about managing your expectations.”

  The air was windy and warm when the girls piled into Travis’s red Jeep Wrangler the next night. Strands of cloud whipped across the moon, which hung glowing in the black sky.

  “This is going to be a killer party,” Travis declared as Celeste climbed into the front seat and Devon folded herself into the back. “These springs are like fifteen miles out and there’s like practically no road, just a track.”

  “I’m so excited!” Celeste squealed. “At last, freedom!” She flung her arms out the open window dramatically. “I feel like I’ve been paroled or something.” She was feeling refreshed after a cool shower. She could tell Travis appreciated her choice of a ruffly white miniskirt by the way his eyes raked her legs when she swung into the front seat.

  Travis gunned the motor and the car sped away down the curvy highway. The lights and noise of town faded behind them as the truck turned onto smaller and smaller paved roads and finally bumped onto a dirt path, heading out into the dark, silent night. Celeste rolled dow
n the window and let the pinyon-scented air whip her face. It felt so good to be out of her everlasting uniform, just having fun, not worrying about her parents, or the resort, or anything.

  After a little while, Travis slowed down.

  “Is this it?” Celeste asked, craning her head. It just looked like more desert—piles of rocks, some sand, some rough grasses.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Travis answered. He pointed to a cluster of trucks parked by a dune and killed the engine.

  With the headlights off, the full moon flooded the landscape, lighting everything in an eerie gray glow. It was so bright, Celeste could see the freckles on Devon’s nose. All three of them stood by the truck for a minute, scanning around them.

  “There they are!” Devon pointed to a group of figures about fifty feet away. The girls crunched over, picking their way around scattered red rocks and skirting clumps of tall desert grass. Celeste clutched Travis’s arm and congratulated herself on wearing Tevas instead of flip-flops tonight.

  As they approached, they could see a small campfire burning, with a few figures standing around it. Everyone else was sitting in a series of natural pools tucked in among the rocks. They looked like a lot of disembodied heads floating in the water. Steam wafted upward, concealing people’s faces, and the rotten-egg smell of sulfur hung strong in the air.

  “Hey, Celeste!” She turned at the sound of her name. Dave and Rick were waving from the other side of the fire. “Come here and give us a hug!”

  Celeste trotted over. She could see that both of them had already been drinking for a while. Travis lumbered up behind her.

  “This is an amazing party spot, Dave!” Celeste exclaimed. “Are all those pools, like, hot?”

  “Yeah. The water comes up from underground and the pools just formed here. Some of them are really hot—like you’ll boil yourself. This one’s the best.” He pointed to the largest pool where most people were sitting.

  “So why am I just finding out about this place now?” Celeste demanded playfully.