After everyone leaves, except for Roscoe, who hangs out in our bedroom, Ethan takes my hands in his. “I’m so glad everything is okay with us.”
“Me too,” I say. I shouldn’t admit it out loud, but the stress of possibly losing him was worse than the stress of this hurricane. I guess once you’ve been through a natural disaster, they no longer have the same power over you. My relationship with Ethan is much more important than a bunch of purple dorm stuff and some thrift store furniture.
“Now trust me,” I say, giving him a playful smile. “I would love to sit here and keep staring into each other’s eyes and saying how much I love you, but I have to take a shower.”
###
The hotel’s pool becomes a soothing oasis after dark. Once the little kids leave and the other people at the hotel go back to their rooms, Dakota and I are all alone in the blue water that’s lit up with color-changing LED lights.
There’s palm trees thick enough to block out the rest of the world, and the pool has a large waterfall on one end. I close my eyes and pretend I’m somewhere exotic and beautiful.
We’ve been out here for a few hours. Aunt Donna and Mrs. Poe are getting along well, playing cards in the hotel. But it’s still too claustrophobic in there. There’s too many people, and the news is always on the TV, and Dakota and I are having much more fun here in the water.
Ethan was with us until a little while ago when his dad asked him to go to the store with him to stock up on non-perishable foods. It turns out we’ll have to stay at least one more night, maybe two, before we’re allowed to go back home. They want the flood waters to subside before anyone drives back.
I hold my breath and dunk under the water, letting its coolness refresh me as I plunge back up, holding my nose to keep the water out.
Kennedy stands on the edge of the pool looking at me. I nearly choke on my own spit. Dakota swims up to me. “Can we help you?” she asks Kennedy.
Kennedy is wearing some skimpy white shorts and a blue tank top. Her flip flops are eye level with me and I really hate being forced to look up at her.
“I need to talk to Ella,” she says.
Dakota doesn’t move. “Whatever you want to say to her, you can say in front of me.”
Kennedy rolls her eyes and then looks at me, giving me this expression like she thinks I’m going to tell Dakota to scram.
Well, it sucks for her because I refuse to do anything that makes it look like I’m siding with Kennedy. I’m on Dakota’s side. Always.
I bob in the water and make no motions of getting out of the pool. “What is it?”
She huffs indignantly. “Fine, I’ll tell both of you,” she says, but she’s looking at me. She inhales deeply and then lets it out slowly. “I wanted to apologize for the photos I took of Ethan. It was a shitty thing to do. I guess I didn’t realize how close you two were. I didn’t even know you were still dating.”
There are so many things wrong with this apology, but it did include the wordapologize, so I guess it’s the best that Kennedy can do. And it’s certainly more than I ever thought I’d get from her.
“Thanks,” I say, my voice flat.
“Thanks for letting me stay,” she says.
I shrug. “It’s not my choice.”
Kennedy walks away and I dunk back under the water again, wishing that the chlorine had the power to wipe away all of my memories of that girl. I just want her gone. Out of my life, out of my boyfriend’s life. At least next week we will both be out of our hometown and we won’t have to see her anymore.
The pool closes at ten, and Dakota and I slowly make our way back to the hotel. “You’re really awesome, you know that right?” she says while we’re wrapped up in thick hotel towels in the elevator. “The way you talk to Kennedy is so bad ass.”
I snort. “Let’s hope you never have to deal with a Kennedy in your life.”
Back in the hotel, Aunt Donna has a nice bed made on the couch, and Roscoe is snoring lightly while he sleeps on the floor next to her. The Poes and Kennedy have already retired to their rooms and Dakota gives me a silly look before going into her room that she shares with Kennedy. “Wish me luck,” she says.
“There’s not enough luck in the world for that,” I say back with a giggle.
In my room, Ethan is watching TV from the bed. He’s wearing pajama pants and no shirt and my eyes flick straight to his chest.
“I know,” he says, touching his stomach. “I haven’t worked out in two days and I’m losing all my muscle definition.”
I roll my eyes and throw my wet towel at him. “You know you look hot.”
After I shower and blow dry my hair, I put on the last clean T-shirt I have and slip into bed next to Ethan. The lights are off, but the TV is still on, casting a flickering glow across our faces.
