Mom gives me her you-better-be-polite look. “Robin, you should thank this young man.”
“I already did.” Mom purses her lips and her breathing is heavy and I know if I don’t do what I’m told I’m going to have to listen to her ranting for the rest of the tour. “Thank you, Elliot. Thank you for being so kind,” I say graciously.
I really am grateful that Elliot turned out to be such a nice guy. The guys I know that are gorgeous like him wouldn’t have been so kind. They would’ve hit me with the door and ran away laughing.
Elliot smiles brightly and my heart thumps, beating out of my chest. “No problem, Robin.” There’s a roll to the “R” when he says my name and it’s so sexy that heat rises to my cheeks and I feel like I’m baking in an oven. “Maybe I’ll see you around campus sometime.”
I hope so. “Yeah, Maybe.”
In all reality, I know I probably won’t—see him around campus I mean. There are thousands in my freshman class and who knows how many total for all grades. The small flicker of hope inside of me dwindles away and I frown. Why is it that when you have a random encounter with a gorgeous guy your chances of seeing him again always go from possibly to not at all in a matter of seconds? The thought of it totally bums me out.
I’ve had that before with the lifeguard who saved my life three summers ago. But the thing is; I still see him. Every year when I walk onto the beach he flashes me his perfect smile from his bright red lifeguard chair. “Hey, kid,” he greets me with a chuckle. “Am I going to have to keep a close eye on you today?”
What I always want to tell him is; I hope so. But I never do. I usually end up blushing and look down at my feet, mumbling a string of incoherent words. Elliot makes me feel the same way and I just met him. He makes me feel like I’m a scattered all over inside, bits and pieces of cubed cheddar placed sporadically on a party platter. I gaze at him intensely and he kind of reminds me of Drake, the lifeguard who saved my life and it’s unnerving. I swallow hard and start playing with my fingertips. Will I ever be able to act like myself around gorgeous guys? I snort softly. Probably not.
Elliot smirks and grazes his teeth along his lower lip. “I look forward to it, Robin.” He starts backing away. “Have a good tour. I’ve got my own to get to.”
“You’re a freshman?” I shout as he distances himself from me.
“Yep!”
Elliot smiles and disappears from my view and a wide smile curls on my lips.
For my sake I hope that the “maybe” of me seeing him again turns into a definitely.
~3~
Six Months Later
Missing someone gets easier every day because even though it's one day further from the last time you saw each other, it's one day closer to the next time you will. ~Author Unknown~
“Robin Sue Mason! You’d better be up there packing!” Mom shouts from the bottom of the steps.
“I am!” No I’m not.
“Good because we’re leaving in forty-five minutes with or without you!”
I glimpse over my shoulder at my empty suitcase then back at my open laptop. A tiny grin crawls across my lips when I read the post on Drake Robertson’s Facebook wall.
Another summer in Paradise.
I’d asked him if he’d be my friend on Facebook last summer and I honestly didn’t think he’d say yes. But he did and I remember more clearly than anything the palpitations my heart made after he’d answered me.
Heat rises to my cheeks and my face tingles as I admire his picture. He saved my life three summers ago and we’ve been to same beach cottage in Paradise, Maine every summer since. But he’s never looked or thought of me the way I think of him. In fact, most of the times he’s seen me he’d give me a playful punch to the arm and say, “What’s up, kid? You surviving vacation this year?”
I’d roll my eyes and reply, “Yes.” But that I really want to say is I know I’ll survive because you’ll be there to save me.
He’s my own personal superhero. Or at least I like to think of him that way. And it seems like the only time I’m accident prone is when he’s around.
Most of all, I wish he’d look at me like I’m not a kid. Hopefully this year he will because I don’t look the same as I did last year, much less three years ago. I hit puberty late, not filling out until a month before my senior year. Now I feel like I look more womanly, with curves and a b cup-size I can actually fill out.
I close my laptop and plop down next to my suitcase and sigh. If Mom hopes to leave in forty-five minutes, I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint her because I have no idea what to pack.
Just then Whitney bursts through the door singing, “We’ve got two tickets to Paradise!” I laugh, falling onto my side as she drops her duffle bag onto the floor. Whit is always so animated. “What the heck are you doing?” she asks glancing from my suitcase to my face. “You haven’t packed anything!”
“I don’t know what to bring,” I whine and puff out my bottom lip.
Whit rolls her hazel eyes. “I’ll help you.” She starts rummaging through my drawers. “I think I’m more excited about this vacation than you are,” she says, elbows deep in my underwear drawer.