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I hope you enjoy this story. It's going to be this cute summer romance story, of course with loads of bumps and blips in the middle!
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Tell me how to get back to,
Back to Summer Paradise with you,
And I’ll be there in a heartbeat.
From : Mom
Time: 8:32pm
Honey, I know it’s been a hard month, but I’ve been trying my best to wrap things up here. I can’t make it this Monday either, so rain check on our trip to LA? I’m so sorry. However, I can’t let you spend your entire summer at home, unguarded and unattended, and so I spoke to aunt Clarisse about you staying over this summer. Guess what, she was ecstatic!! We’re still finalizing the dates, so I’ll get back to you on that.
Stay safe and don’t burn down the house. Good night sweetie.
NO. No, no.
This can’t be happening. My long awaited summer plans just cannot go down the drain. I quickly call my mom. Her phone’s busy. Okay, I won’t give up, it’s her secretary then. Alice picks up on the first ring.
‘Sky, is everything okay?’
‘Hey, um, I guess. Can I please talk to mum?’
‘Honey, she’s currently talking to an important client, so, I’ll tell her to call back once she’s done?’
We say our bye’s quickly. Mom’s a busy woman. Ever since dad passed away, three years ago, she’s been on fire. She’s faster than the wind, and unavailable for conversations that last for more than two and a half minutes. You’d think it was about time for a breakdown, right? Wrong. Mom’s good at the whole –bottling up your emotions- thing. Very good. The week after dad died? She was back on her feet, her ear glued to her precious BlackBerry. And then she was practically never at home. It was weird for me. I was used to her being home on the weekends, attending my parent-teacher meetings, going for shopping sprees. But life’s a rollercoaster life, isn’t it? It’s mostly been going down for me though; I could so do with a direction change.
My head it churning with thoughts. How can I avoid what’s going to be potentially, the worst summer of my existence?
With my head still in deep thought, I step out of my house and into the scorching heat of New York. My skin starts to prickle. Already. I jump into my ancient , chrome yellow, Volkswagen Bug and silently pray to the goddess of Cars to let my dear Buggy live for one more day. After a lot of sputtering (the car), and profanities yelled (me), my car stammers to a start. Mission accomplished.
My car is blessed with an okay radio. If you ignore the slight screeching which gets louder when you hit a bump and the automatic changing of channels once in a while, my car radio is quite agreeable. Okay, ignore the fact that I once thought my car was possessed and I started comparing it with Herbie. I even wanted to spray paint it in the Herbie colors, sadly though, my meager fund didn’t permit it. The screeching sound actually starts to sound like a part of the song after a while. And even though the air conditioner blasts only hot waves of air, I’m okay. Buggy’s my baby and I’ll love it forever and ever. At least till the radio works.
The weathers getting shittier each day. There’s no wind in the air, and it’s humid enough for you to start sweating buckets a minute after you exit your heavenly, air conditioned homes. My phone rings, Carly Rae’s ‘Call me maybe’ alerting me that I have a phone to pick up. It’s Lisa, the ying to my yang.
‘I already reached. Where are you? I am desperately in need of a good tan. Have you seen how pale and twig-y my legs look now?’ Her sentences are laced with impatience.
‘I’m coming, I’m coming. I’m looking for a parking sp- oh, found one! Be there in five.’ The line clicks, followed by dead silence.
People behind me are honking, the ones in front of me are shouting and screaming to find a way to waddle through the crowded lot. I white minivan reverses, yes. It’s leaving! With a smile full of satisfaction and a surprised gasp, my car zooms straight towards the empty spot. And dashes against the short cemented wall that basically defines the end of the parking spot. But I’m cool; a couple of more scratches and bumps on the bonnet won’t really make a difference, the front (and sort of back too) part of my car is molded into this unrecognizable bonnet, thanks to the number of new and learning drivers it has catered to.
From the rear view mirror of my car, I can see a young couple scowling at me, their face green with envy. With a three-hundred watt smile, I swiftly get out and slam the door shut. See, the thing about Buggy is that it doesn’t understand appreciate being coddled. It likes its components thrashed, because only then does it work.
I can smell the saltiness of the sea water in the air. The sun batters down my bare shoulders, making me scrunch my eyes at the sudden and violent blast of heat showered at me. My undeniably cute, mint blue and white striped tank top is now drenched in sweat, and my shorts are clinging to me in desperation. And I haven’t even entered the sea yet!
I make my way to Leo’s, this small beach-facing shack that basically been our hang-out place since last summer. Leo’s belonged, to Leo (not much thinking required there) who did not exactly maintain this place, to put it mildly. It was in ruins. That is, until his son, Chad, this hot-shot businessman comes up and renovates this place. So now it’s got this really cool and beach-y feel around it, with the bamboo chairs, and the Hawaiian drinks and whatnot. They’ve also got this amazing lighting system that they use during parties. This place it kind-of over budget, but that’s okay, because surprise (surprise!), Chad’s married to my sister Demi (which basically means earth, and yes, the irony’s not lost on me. What were my parents thinking?!), which is kind of cool you know, because I get loads of discount coupons which I take full advantage of during summer.
It doesn’t take me long to spot Lisa. Frankly, it wasn’t a hard task. She was the only one sipping coconut water in a neon blue bikini and a freaky straw hat with cotton pineapples stuck on one side. If that didn’t scream attention, I don’t know what else did.
‘What’s up,’ I ask as I slip into the beach chair beside her.
She lifts her shades up and hands me a glass of coconut water.
‘It’s like ambrosia,’ she says, and I can only nod in agreement as I let the soothing coolness of the water quench my parched throat.
‘I like your top. Cynthia’s?’
‘Yes, I got like, thirty percent off on it.’
‘Oh, the perks of working at such fashionable stores.’ She nudges my elbow and with a laugh says, ‘So, what does this summer have in store for us?’
‘Don’t you ask,’ I say with a groan. ‘Mum can’t come back this week either. She’s swamped with work that never seems to end. Our trip to LA’s mostly cancelled. And because she’s probably busy this entire summer, and because Chad and Demi, had to take off on a holiday this month, I’m supposed to stay at aunt Clarisse’s place. All summer. In Miami.’
‘No, no, no. Tell me you’re shitting me. You can’t go. This was supposed to be like, the best summer ever. Sia just got back, we have parties to attend, a tan to acquire, you just cant pack up your bags and leave!’
