Page 67 of Bad For A Weekend

“We got nothing else to do.”

We take a seat on a bench to remove our shoes. Ziggy rolls up his pants legs, and we’re off. We walk along the shoreline, the waves kissing our ankles as we go. This area is a long line of resorts that announce their property lines as we pass.

Each resort is mostly the same. Rows of beach chairs are stacked up for the night while ropes tie off the cabanas the VIP guests use. The pools are still open, but it’s mostly adults wading around with cocktails in their hands because of the hour.

“I like having our private house, but sometimes I think it’d be more fun to stay at places like these,” I say, kicking the water.

“Why would you ever want to be around thousands of people, eating bad food and getting a hangover from drinking cheap liquor?”

“I’m always alone,” I admit. “My dad’s there, obviously, but we were never able to be around people and just be normal.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” He takes my hand. “You want to be normal for a night?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just trust me.”

A half hour and a thousand dollars later, Ziggy has rented us a night at a resort, complete with hot pink wristbands that give us exclusive access to everything they have to offer.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe you did this.”

“What are you talking about? We’re just two regular people, vacationing at a Mexican resort.” He grins. “What should we do first? Are you hungry?”

“I am, actually. Our tapas didn’t get delivered before everything with Owen went down.” I frown, and he drives a finger into my cheek.

“Nope. None of that. We’re just two teenagers in Mexico for some fun.”

I remember Owen’s story about losing his virginity and my chest aches. Despite everything, I can’t regret what he gave me. He’s become one of my best friends and someone I respect. He fucked up, but it doesn’t take away all the good memories we had.

“Look, a buffet.” I point to a restaurant with a line of people waiting to get in.

“Perfect.”

We pile our plates with so much food, ten of us couldn’t eat it all, and find a table. The waitress delivers us two Bahama Mamas, some kind of blended banana cocktail, and we dive in.

The food is mediocre, at best. Nothing like the fresh and healthy food Brandy makes, but I eat until my dress is so tight, I worry it’ll bust open.

“Where to now?” Ziggy asks.

“I saw a sign for a nightclub.”

“Okay, let’s go dance all these calories off.”

As we walk, I remember we have completely abandoned Sara and Owen. They’re most likely home by now and probably freaking out that we’re not. Unfortunately, I left my phone at the club, but Ziggy has his.

“Will you text Sara and tell her where we are?”

“Sure.” He pulls his phone out. “What do you want me to say?”

“Tell her we’re fine, and we’ll be home in a couple hours.”

“Okay.” His fingers fly across the screen. “Done.”

Within seconds, there’s a reply.

This is Owen. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you.

Ziggy shows me the phone, and I rip it out of his hold to type my response.

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