South Beach

  “I didn’t recognize you,” she finally said. Her voice came out hoarse.

  “I knew it was you right away—you haven’t changed at all,” Diego said, laughing as he dropped his arms. Then he paused and glanced at his feet. “Well, your face is the same, anyway,” he added hastily.

  Oh, God. Holly tried not to blush. At thirteen, she’d been scrawny and flat-chested, but had definitely developed since then. Suddenly, she was half-glad to be wearing the clingy halter.

  “What are you doing in South Beach?” Diego asked. “Are you staying with your grandmother?”

  “Spring break. In a motel.” That was all Holly could manage.

  “Well…it’s great to see you again.” Diego grinned. Then he stepped forward and wrapped Holly in a hug. Holly wondered if she was having an out-ofbody experience. But, no, this was real—her, Diego, their arms around each other. Together again.

  Daisy and Kaitlin looked at each other, shrugging in confusion. Alexa, who was still standing in front of the Honda, stomped one stiletto regally. What was happening here? How did Holly know this creep? She walked over to Holly and Diego and tapped Holly on the shoulder, breaking up the friendly embrace.

  “Hol, why you are hugging the guy who almost killed us?” Alexa demanded.

  Holly pulled away awkwardly from Diego. “He’s…an old friend,” she explained, still having some difficulty with the talking thing.

  “I used to live in the same building as Holly’s grandmother, in Miami Beach,” Diego chimed in. He smiled at Holly again. “How is Ida?”

  “Fine…oh, God!” Holly giggled nervously, suddenly remembering where they were. Ocean Drive. The car. Grandma Ida. “Actually, this is her car—we borrowed it for the night.” She gestured to the silver Pontiac.

  Diego’s expression filled with regret. “Oh, Holly, I’m really sorry. Should I give Ida a call to explain?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Alexa butted in, seething. Now he was apologizing! “Just give me your insurance information. I’ll call Ida tomorrow and figure it out.” Ida had entrusted the car to her; Alexa was going to be adult and responsible about this fiasco.

  Diego turned to face Alexa soberly. “Okay,” he said. “I apologize, really. I know I acted like a jerk before.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Diego Mendieta.”

  Alexa didn’t bother to meet his gaze or take his hand. “Alexandria St. Laurent. Incidentally, I’m also an old friend of Holly’s.” She gave him a frosty smile. “But just because we have that in common does not mean I’m suddenly cool with this. Ida will be absolutely crushed.” She wasn’t certain that last part was true, but, again, it sounded good. “I’m going to look at the fender again,” she told Holly, then turned on her heel and walked off the sidewalk, back toward the Pontiac.

  Holly wanted to crawl into the gutter. She and Diego were finally having their reunion, and Alexa was ruining it by acting like a bitch.

  But Diego didn’t seem bothered by Alexa’s attitude. He continued to study Holly warmly. “Are you okay?” he asked, his dark brows furrowing in concern. “You’re not hurt or anything?” He gently touched her bare shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” Holly whispered. “You barely bumped us.” But she wasn’t fine. Not as long as his fingers were on her skin.

  “Were you heading out for the night?” he asked, taking his hand away.

  Holly looked down, conscious of her outfit again. “Uh—we were—but I don’t know now,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder at Daisy and Kaitlin.

  “We’re gonna walk to Mango’s,” Daisy announced. She and Kaitlin were clearly freaked out by the whole incident. They didn’t ask Holly to meet them there, only scampered off into the night.

  “I guess not.” Holly smiled up at Diego.

  He gestured to his T-shirt and shorts. “I’m not hitting any clubs tonight, either,” he said, flashing his dimples. “I spent all day helping my buddy Andres and his girlfriend move into their new place—they go to the University of Miami.”

  “Oh,” Holly said, calculating the time that had passed. That made sense. Diego was seventeen going on eighteen—a senior in high school. If he had any older friends, they were already in college. For an instant, he seemed very mature to Holly.

  “So I’m ready to go home and crash,” Diego continued, reaching into his shorts pocket and pulling out a silver Moto Razr. “But give me your cell number. I’m on break this week, too. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow.”

  Holly’s heart skipped. Everything she’d imagined was coming true. She was going to spend spring break with Diego!

  Once they’d exchanged numbers, Diego headed back to his Honda to get his insurance information. As soon as he was out of earshot, Alexa approached Holly again.

  “So what’s the deal with you two?” Alexa asked, motioning to Diego. “He seems like a total dweeb.”

  Holly glanced at Alexa. Should she tell her the truth? Holly was so wound-up and trembly, she wanted to broadcast her news to the world: I found Diego! Holly shook her head. Don’t, she told herself. Considering Alexa’s foul mood, she’d most likely trample all over Holly’s excitement. And Alexa would never understand Holly’s feelings, anyway—she’d dismiss her connection with Diego as a childhood crush. Better for Holly to wait until tomorrow and text-message Meghan and Jess instead.

  “Nothing,” Holly replied, her voice shaking slightly. “I kind of hung out with him the last time I stayed at Grandma Ida’s. But I totally wasn’t expecting to see him again.” She was astonished at how easily the blatant lies rolled off her tongue.

  Alexa rolled her eyes. “Well, I wasn’t expecting this crap, either. I cannot wait to get back to the motel. I’m exhausted.” She was brooding over the fact that the car accident had cut her night short. If stupid Diego hadn’t crashed into them, she might be hooking up with some cutie in Mango’s right now. If that was what she really wanted.

  Diego returned, handing Alexa a slip of paper with his insurance information written on it. He seemed about to say something else, but Alexa gave a short nod and marched back toward the Pontiac, dragging Holly with her.

  “Wait—I—Diego—” Holly called over her shoulder, but Alexa was hurriedly depositing her in the passenger seat and slamming the door. Holly thought she heard Diego yell “I’ll call you tomorrow!” a second before Alexa sped away.

  They drove to the Flamingo in silence, Alexa still stewing in anger, and Holly too delirious to think of anything to say.

  Back in the motel, they headed to the bathroom to wash up. Alexa brushed her teeth and washed her face in a minute flat, then flounced out of the bathroom in a huff, leaving Holly there alone. Holly was splashing water on her face when the bathroom door opened and Aaron walked in, wearing only his boxers. He looked tired and drunk, but when he saw Holly his expression brightened. Holly immediately faced the sink again, her heart pounding. Aaron was the last person she wanted to see right now.

  “Hey,” he said, standing at the sink next to her. “Have a good night?”

  You have no idea, Holly thought, patting her face with the towel. “It was all right,” she answered.

  “Yeah, mine blew, too,” Aaron replied, watching her in the mirror. “What are you doing tomorrow?” Seeing a boy who puts you to shame, Holly thought. But she only shrugged, and floated back to her room. Alexa, wearing her silk nightie, was in bed, lying flat on her stomach. Holly locked the door, sat on the edge of her bed, and changed into her PJs. She slipped a soft cotton tank over her head, and slowly pulled on her plaid boxers. She noticed how the tank top rode up her belly, revealing a sliver of freckled skin. She suddenly felt so aware of her own body—where it curved, and where it lay flat. Usually, Holly thought of her body only in terms of exercise: whether or not she had stretched properly, if her breathing rhythms were correct. But now, even the texture of her skin felt different. Lightly, Holly caressed the spot on her arm where Diego had rested his fingers.

  Maybe we can hang out, Diego had said. Holly imag
ined meeting him on the beach. Would she want him to see her in that boring old Speedo? Holly curled up on the orange bedspread. Meghan had her tankini, so Holly could probably use some extra swimwear. And perhaps it was time to start playing up her assets.

  Alexa rolled onto her back and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the glare of the overhead bulb. She wished she’d remembered to pack her sleep mask.

  “Hol, are you going to turn off the light?” she asked.

  “In a minute,” Holly replied faintly.

  Alexa opened her eyes and saw her friend tucked into a ball on the bed, wide awake and staring into space dreamily.

  “What are you thinking about?” Alexa asked.

  Holly paused. “I want to get a bikini,” she replied, surprising Alexa. She sat up straight, as if she’d surprised herself, too.

  Alexa propped herself up on one elbow. “Why didn’t you tell me before, silly?” she asked, laughing. “We’ll go shopping first thing tomorrow.” Alexa remembered spotting a trendy-looking bikini shop on Collins that afternoon.

  “Okay,” Holly said, hiding her grin as she slid off the bed and walked over to the light switch. As the room sank into darkness, Holly felt a shiver of anticipation. If only this night were over already. Morning would bring more Diego. And Holly could hardly stand the wait.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Surprises

  The insistent ringing of Holly’s cell phone woke the girls at ten the next morning.

  “Damn it,” Alexa groaned, pulling the sheet up over her head. It was probably Holly’s obsessive-compulsive parents doing their daily check-in.

  Rubbing her eyes, Holly stumbled out of bed and yanked the phone from her little black bag, where she’d left it the night before.

  “’Lo?” she mumbled, blinking herself awake.

  “Holly? Am I calling too early?”

  That voice. Much deeper than she’d remembered it from three years back, but with the same smooth timbre and hint of a Spanish accent. Now, she was completely alert.

  “Hi, Diego,” Holly said, trying to remain composed. “No, we were up.”

  Of course it’s Diego! Alexa fumed silently from her bed. First he ruins my night—and now my morning.

  “Cool,” Diego was saying. “You took off so fast last night. I didn’t even get a chance to say ’bye.”

  “I know,” Holly said, shooting a death glare at Alexa’s shape under the sheet.

  “Anyway, I wanted to check in and make sure Ida was okay about the car,” Diego added.

  “My grandmother?” Holly replied. She’d almost forgotten about the car; in the harsh light of morning, last night’s events seemed hazy. “I didn’t call her yet. I haven’t really started my day,” she admitted sheepishly.

  She heard a smile in Diego’s voice. “What were your plans for today?” he asked.

  “Oh, this and that,” Holly replied. Calm, she told herself. Zen-like calm.

  “I’m around this morning,” Diego said casually. “Would you want to meet up?”

  Holly wanted to throw down the phone and turn cartwheels across the small room. But that wouldn’t exactly be too smooth, considering Alexa wasn’t supposed to know how she felt about Diego.

  “Sure,” Holly replied lightly, as if she made dates with boys every day. “What do you want to do?”

  “There’s this new exhibit at the Latin American Art Museum in Little Havana that I’ve been wanting to check out,” Diego said. “We could drive over there.”

  Holly bit her lip, hesitating. She wasn’t much for museums. And if she and Diego were going to hang out, she wanted to be able to really talk to him. To tell him about her life now, and find out about his. It would be hard for them to reconnect while whispering in a sterile gallery.

  “Or we could just grab some coffee,” Diego offered after Holly had been silent for several seconds.

  “Well,” Holly replied, feeling torn. Having coffee with Diego seemed almost too intimate and chatty; sitting across from him at a small table meant they’d be forced to make constant conversation. Holly wanted to do something in-between—something that felt neutral and safe. Something that would keep her in motion.

  “Do you feel like going for a bike ride?” Holly suggested, sitting up straighter. She loved biking: her strong legs working the pedals, the sun warming her hair, the sense of control as she steered the handlebars. Plus, she and Diego had gone bike-riding a few times during that week in June; it might be kind of sweet to recreate their shared activity.

  Diego agreed to the biking plan, and they decided to meet at the Bicycle Center on 5th street at eleven o’clock. Holly shut her cell phone and flopped back on her pillow, in a daze.

  “Why are you seeing him today?” Alexa asked disgustedly, her voice muffled by the sheet over her head.

  “Oh, just to catch up on old times,” Holly replied blithely, as if Diego were nothing more than a childhood chum. Just like she and Alexa were.

  “Well, don’t forget our shopping date,” Alexa said, scooting farther under the sheet.

  Right, Holly thought. Darn. She’d planned to be decked out in a tiny bikini when she saw Diego again. But she wouldn’t have time to get one in the next hour. It was fine, she assured herself. Bikinis weren’t really right for bike-riding, anyway. She’d simply have to wear the cutest shorts and tank top she owned.

  An hour later, Holly and Diego were biking down the cement promenade that ran along the beach. Holly had decided on a red tank and camouflage short shorts, and dabbed on a bit of her own sheer lip gloss. I’ve never given so much thought to my clothes before, Holly realized as she looked down to examine her berry-red Adidas.

  “Hey, slow down, okay?” Diego said, laughing. “This isn’t a race, girl.”

  Holly noticed how fast and hard she’d been pedaling. She couldn’t help it; her normal pace was practically warp speed. She slowed down to match Diego’s and gave him an apologetic smile.

  Diego didn’t have his glasses on this morning—contacts, he’d explained when they’d met at the bike rental place—so Holly could admire his soulful, night-colored eyes. His straight black hair was boyishly tousled, and his caramel-colored skin looked even darker against his white T-shirt. He was more than six feet tall now, and his arms and legs were nicely toned. He’s all grown up, Holly thought, her heart fluttering.

  Almost gingerly, with the politeness of near strangers, she and Diego began talking as they pedaled, catching each other up on the missing years. Diego told Holly that his older sister, Marta, whom Holly remembered as intimidatingly beautiful, was now a sophomore at Wesleyan, and then he asked about Holly’s own family. Holly recounted to Diego the chaos at Grandma Ida’s apartment, including Miles’s run-in with Alexa, and received the gift of Diego’s warm laugh, and the sight of his dimples.

  “I’m sure your friend didn’t take that well,” Diego observed. “She seems like a real spitfire.”

  “You could say that,” Holly agreed, relaxing. Things were starting to feel more natural between them.

  They exchanged a few benign comments on the weather—Diego agreed that it was insanely humid for March—but Holly was quickly noticing that it was hard to carry on an actual conversation while biking. The ocean wind was ruthless against their faces, and other cyclists kept zooming past, sometimes rudely cutting right between them. Holly was relieved when Diego suggested breaking for ice cream. They biked to a stand on Ocean Drive, then rolled their bicycles north to the boardwalk.

  “This feels familiar, huh?” Holly asked as she and Diego settled on a bench with their cups of chocolate chip. There was a space between them, almost as if they were leaving room for a third party. Holly considered shifting closer to him, but that would probably seem too forward. She had no idea how things were supposed to go when one was alone with a boy. She didn’t exactly have much practice.

  “Does it?” Diego asked with a smile, inclining his head.

  Holly nodded, nervously digging her spoon into the ice
cream. “Don’t you remember? Bike-riding and eating ice cream. That was, like, all we did that week…you know…” She trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by where this topic might lead. Bikeriding, eating ice cream…kissing.

  “Right.” Diego shook his head and laughed. “That feels like such a long time ago, doesn’t it?”

  “Mmm,” Holly lied, busy with her ice cream.

  “And didn’t we go surfing?” Diego asked. Holly nodded as Diego set his empty cup down between them. Then he leaned back against the bench, staring pensively out at the ocean. “Yeah, I remember that,” he went on with a grin, clearly enjoying their reminiscing. “We were both such amateurs, but you were braver than me. You’d ride those swells like they were nothing.”

  “You were scared?” Holly asked, surprised. “You seemed so…whatever.”

  Diego ducked his head. “You think I’d have let on if I was scared? I was trying to impress you, Holly.” Holly felt her cheeks redden. What did that mean? Was he admitting that he’d had a crush on her back then? And what about now? She studied Diego’s profile expectantly, but he offered nothing more.

  Later, when Holly had finished her ice cream and they were walking their bikes back to 5th street, Diego reached over and playfully pulled her ponytail. Holly tensed up; she’d read an article in Seventeen that said boys tried to find ways to touch you if they were interested in you.

  “Hey,” Diego said. “Are you free tonight? Some friends of mine will be going to this hotel bar. Maybe you could bring your friend Alexandria and those other girls from last night. I’d kind of like to apologize to them again,” he added with a sheepish smile.

  Holly’s felt a surge of hope. Up until that moment, she’d been unsure about how things stood with her and Diego. He’d seemed halfway flirtatious, yet somehow also cautious. But his invitation to the hotel bar held all sorts of promise. Of course they hadn’t completely clicked now, Holly reasoned—how sexy could things feel on a bright Monday morning? But, that evening…over drinks, under the stars…Holly barely listened as Diego filled her in on the location of the bar. She was too busy watching his full lips. Of course. All she and Diego needed was a more seductive setting, and then they’d pick up right where they’d left off that summer night.