Page 18 of Tourist Trap

I roll my eyes. “God, you really don’t ever have fun, do you? Do you evenknowhow to have fun?”

“Excuse me?” he asks.

“Do you ever have fun? These rules kind of make it so you can’t have fun ever. No pets, no parties, no one-night stands, no flirting…no fun.”

“I don’t think anyone has fun like you do, Claire,” he says, exasperation in the words.

I shrug.

“If they did, I bet people would live longer.” He gives me a disbelieving look. “Because they wouldn’t be so stressed and depressed, obviously.”

“I don’t know if that’s how that works.”

“You need some fun in your life,” I say. “Or you’re going to die young and not because you were enjoying yourself too much. From a boredom-induced heart attack or something equally tragic.”

“I very much do not need more fun.”

“You do. Even Paul used to tell me.” He gives me a deadpan look.

“Well, Paul isn’t the most responsible person, so I don’t put much weight in that,” he says, a fair point.

“June said it, too. And Grant. And Helen.”

His jaw goes tight once again, clearly unhappy that so many people have such an opinion on him and his life. “Yeah, well, that’s their opinion,” he says, then turns away to leave the room.

“I think,” I say, and he pauses, looking over his shoulder. “I’m going to make it my mission for you to loosen up this summer.” He leaves without another word, and I smile as he walks down the hall, my new mission clear.

SEVEN

CLAIRE

When June suggested I move down here for one last summer of fun before I force myself to get serious about figuring out what I want to do with my life, we made our list of fun things to do this summer.

Most of them were silly, like watching a sunrise or getting a killer tan, but I’m glad Miles didn’t ask to actually see my list because we also added insane things, like hooking up with a local and fucking someone on a lifeguard chair.

Both of which I would be more than willing to do with my new landlord, even if he clearly has no interest in that.

I thought for the slightest moment in the ocean with him that there might be…something, but I think that was me reading into the crush I’ve had since I was nineteen, not reality.

Happens to the best of us.

But when Miles told me he doesn’t have fun, I thought maybe we could kill two birds with one stone. I knock out my summer bucket list and force Miles to have some fun this summer as well.

Definitelynotan excuse to convince him to spend more time with me.

I was up with the sun the following day since I left the curtains wide open, not that I could really complain too much despitenotbeing a morning person, since I’m now waking up on the ocean. Miles’s house is huge, and the only thing between us and the actual sand of the beach is the twelve-foot boardwalk. There are multiple decks on the property overlooking the water, including one right off my room.

Could I be any more lucky?

Digging through my things, I find what I’m looking for, a small stack of colorful papers I brought because you never know when you’ll need it, as well as the zipper pouch full of colorful pens. I’m grateful that I always pack like a wild animal, forgetting about one-third of what I mightactuallyneed and bringing a ton of shit I probably won’t need.

It’s for times like these when I suddenly need paper and markers to make a colorful list more than I need that comfortable pair of walking shoes I left at my sisters’ place.

After I get dressed in a bathing suit, an oversizedSeaside Point Lifeguardsweatshirt, and a pair of shorts, I grab my things. Moving down the stairs quietly, I quickly make myself a premade coffee, one of the few groceries I bought yesterday, and then sit out on the deck while I start my summer project.

Two hours later, my list is done and decorated. I’m still out on the deck, face down on one of the foldable chairs and tanning when the side door slams unexpectedly. I bolt up to sitting quickly, putting a hand to my chest as the flimsy fabric of my top almost falls down.

I’d been lying on my stomach and flipping through a tabloid magazine to see if I could find anything funny about Jules’s friends, Ava or Harper, who always end up in these magazines to tease them about later, and kept the ties off my back to avoid tan lines. I already know that summer as a lifeguard is going to result in the wildest ones possible.

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