And Then What?. D. Graham R.
“What’s your name?”
He pointed to the nametag on his chest. “Luis. If you need anything, Miss Sophie, just ask for Luis.”
“Gracias, Luis.”
The suite was sprawling and the bedroom was separated from the living room by double doors. I opened the sliding patio door and stepped out onto the balcony. It over-looked the pools below and the ocean beyond that. I closed my eyes and let the sun and the warm ocean breeze soak into my skin. It was amazing—like what paradise was supposed to feel like. The only thing better would have been being there with Trevor too.
My thoughts were interrupted when a male voice said, “Hi.” A tanned guy with longish blond hair and green eyes was standing on the balcony next to ours. He leaned on the railing with one hand and drank from a red plastic cup with his other hand. He smelled like a mix of coconut suntan lotion and alcohol.
“Hi,” I replied.
“Did you just get here?”
“What gave it away—the pasty skin or the jeans?”
“Neither, I just would have noticed you before now if you’d been here the whole time. I’m Liam.”
“Derian.” I reached across the gap between our balconies and shook his hand. “Have you been here long?”
“Three days. I should probably apologize in advance because my friends are a little loud and can be obnoxious. Well, not can be; they are obnoxious.”
“But you’re not?”
“Oh, I am too. I apologize for that in advance as well.”
I laughed. “Where are you from?”
“Toronto. It’s in Canada.”
“Really? Is it true that you live in igloos in Canada?” I teased.
He looked at me to see if I was dumb or joking. He smiled. “You’re Canadian too, aren’t you?”
“Vancouver.”
“I should have known that.” He turned his head a little when a guy’s voice called him from inside the room. He looked back at me. “We’re just heading out to get some dinner. Do you and your friends want to come with us?”
“It’s just my friend Sophie and me, and we kind of want to freshen up first. Maybe we’ll see you down there later.”
“I’ll buy you a drink,” he joked.
“Ha ha, big spender.”
Sophie stepped out onto the balcony behind me and rested her elbow on my shoulder. “What do we have here?”
“Sophie, Liam. Liam, Sophie.”
He reached over to shake her hand. He grinned in a very mischievous way and said, “You two are going to get into all sorts of trouble here. Hopefully we’ll run into you down at the club.” He waved and went back into his room.
“Cuuuute,” Sophie purred.
“Not as cute as Doug,” I reminded her.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get ready.”
I showered, then Sophie straightened my hair. She always made it look so smooth and shiny. I loved it. I dressed in a fitted, white sundress and did my makeup. Sophie put on classy black shorts that had a cuff at the hem, and a silky green backless top that scooped low and kind of billowed at the front. She straightened her bangs into a perfectly level line across her forehead and layered on a couple of chains that shimmered on her skin. She made fashion look so effortless. I clasped on the necklace that Mason gave me and slipped into a pair of strappy heels.
We decided to try the Italian restaurant. As we walked through the lobby, I noticed there were computer stations, so I stopped and emailed Trevor.
We made it safe and sound. The resort is beautiful, but I wish you and Doug were here with us. Going for dinner now. Love u. D.
The dinner was awesome and we ate way too much because the idea of it being pre-paid made us gluttonous. We each had a margarita with dinner. It went straight to my head because the only alcohol I’d ever had was a glass of champagne at my cousin’s wedding and the cocktail that the hotel gave us when we arrived. Apparently, alcohol made me giggly, because I couldn’t stop laughing.
We eventually made our way over to the nightclub. It was packed with college students, who were all obviously desperately in need of reading break. There were no available tables, so we stood next to the bar and had another margarita. My legs started to get tingly.
“Hey, you made it.” Liam draped his arm across my shoulders.
I giggled.
“Sophie, this is my wing-man, Ben,” Liam said.
Sophie smiled at the tall guy, who looked half-Asian and half-Caucasian. “Hi, Ben.”
“Do you want to dance?” Liam asked me.
“I’ll try. I can’t exactly feel my legs.”
“You’re a lightweight, eh?”
“You could say that.”
He led me by the hand towards the dance floor, then wrapped his arms around my waist. I propped my hands on his shoulders, mostly to hold myself up. “You look beautiful,” he said.
“Thanks. I have a boyfriend. You should probably know that.”
“I know.” He held my hand above my head to twirl me around.
“How do you know?”
“Because girls like you always have boyfriends. Don’t worry about it. We’re just dancing.”
“Yeah, just dancing.”
Liam and I alternated between dancing and hanging out with Sophie and Ben. It was fun. I thought the boys said they were students at the University of Toronto, but that might not have been what they said because when I said, “I considered going to U of T,” they all laughed at me as if it didn’t make sense.
“Is the music getting louder?” I shouted.
Liam chuckled. “No, you’re just getting drunker.”
“I love this song. Let’s dance.” I dragged him back out onto the dance floor. He wasn’t a very good dancer. He mostly just positioned his hands on my waist or hips and watched as I danced. After another margarita, my eyesight started to get a little blurry. I could sort of see Sophie. She was smiling and she looked completely sober as she talked to Ben.
Some other guy handed me a drink and I was just about to drink it when Sophie grabbed it and took it away from me. “Nice try,” she yelled at the guy. “Derian, don’t take drinks unless they’re from the bar. In fact, don’t take any more drinks at all.”
I saluted her and stumbled back out onto the dance floor. Not much of anything was clear after that. Ben and Liam walked us back to the room. Well, they walked and Liam carried me over his shoulder.
The next thing I remembered clearly was waking up in the morning with a crushing pressure clamping down on my head. The sun streamed through the window and felt like someone turned the brightness up too high. I ran to the bathroom and wasn’t able to lift the toilet in time, so unceremoniously hurled in the bathtub. It was a revolting strawberry-pink mess mixed with what I could only imagine were spaghetti noodles. I used the showerhead and washed it down the drain. It was making me feel sick again as I watched it dilute with water. Sophie propped herself against the bathroom doorframe with her arms crossed and watched me.
“Sorry. You’re going to have to tip the maid really big,” I croaked hoarsely.
“I see that.”
“Why do you look perfectly fine?”
“Because