Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Chapter Seven
Isabel
The sun is positioned directly overhead, blazing in a cloudless sky. I’m fused to the towel covering my beach lounger, refusing to open my eyes. It’s Saturday and there’s a big group of us at the beach: Simone and Annika, as well as Ethan, Felix, Mia, and Thalia. We’re soaking in as much playtime as we can before work. Tonight, we have to go in an hour early. It’s Aura’s official summer kickoff party, and there’s a big-name DJ taking the stage at midnight.
A bead of sweat slowly rolls down my neck into my hair. I’ve never been hotter. I’m dying to get up and jump in the sea, but I’m being held hostage.
“Simone! How much longer?” I groan, my face pressed into my towel.
“Do you want a lovely tan or not? One more minute and then we can take a dip!”
One more minute and I’ll shrivel to a burnt crisp.
“No.” Suddenly I’ve had enough. “I can’t do it.”
I sit up and retie my bikini top. To hell with tan lines.
Annika sits up, too. “Yeah, this is miserable. I can’t even get a tan, so what’s the point of roasting myself in the sun? Elle, you want to swim?”
Simone throws up her hands. “Guys! C’mon!”
From his lounge chair on the other side of Simone, Ethan pops up to join us. “I’ll come, too.”
I look at Annika, who shrugs like she’s totally indifferent, but I know better. I know that sly smile she tries to hide as she turns back around. She takes my hand and tugs me toward the surf, acting as if Ethan is a complete afterthought.
I lean in and whisper, “Are you going to string him along all summer?”
She shrugs. “I might. Is he following?”
I check. “Like a puppy.”
She laughs. “Good.”
We splash into the water like little kids, kicking our feet at incoming waves as we rush to meet the sea. Annika hangs back with Ethan, but I dive in the first chance I get, slipping beneath the turquoise water and swimming out until my feet can’t reach the sandy seafloor. I feel completely at ease for the first time since I arrived on Ibiza. Being in the sea will always remind me of home, and though this water is warmer than I’m used to in California, it offers the same feeling of weightlessness.
Winnie and I would spend hours at the beach together. Surfing didn’t come naturally to me like it did for her, but I stuck with it so we’d always have something to do with our dad.
I surface for air and then lounge back in the water, letting my legs and arms splay out like a starfish. The sea current gently rocks me along with the waves, the memories mingling with the present. For a moment, I’m with her again.
I’m walking into the main entrance of the hospital with so many cardboard boxes stacked in my arms I can’t see where I’m going. Back at my car, I tried to Jenga an eye slit, but the boxes shifted and now I’m flying blind. I nearly collide with a cute family on a mission to get their fresh newborn into their idling car.
“Did you check that the car seat is installed right, Todd? Oh! And did you get that big water jug I was using up in the room? We can’t leave that behind!”
Demi is behind the security desk, her thick black braids spun into a bun on top of her head. She laughs when she sees me. “That’s more than yesterday. Your sister’s doing some real damage…”
“Someone needs to cut the Wi-Fi access to her room.”
Demi snorts under her breath as I head to the left, down my usual path to the west elevator bank, then up to the cardiac floor, all the while calling out premature apologies to anyone I might bump into on my way down the hall.
“She’s going to be happy to see you today,” a nurse says as I pass their station. It sounds like Abby, but if I turn to confirm, these boxes will tumble, and I’ve already made it this far without any major accidents. I won’t fail now.
For the last five weeks, my sister has stayed in a hospital room at the end of the cardiac floor that overlooks the gardens. My mom demanded this location because of its view, as if carefully pruned roses have as much to do with her recovery as lifesaving antibiotics.
The door to her room is cracked enough that I toe it open the rest of the way, already announcing, “You’ve done it. You’ve purchased every article of clothing on the internet. Wheel in the trophy, boys.”
My sister sits up on her hospital bed, casting aside her notebook and pen and reaching out with gimme fingers toward the boxes in my arms. “My mail!”