Page 1 of Spring Break Fling

1

HANNAH

Palm trees swayed on either side of the Miami boardwalk while I breathed in salty, humid ocean air and draped my arms over the shoulders of two of my best friends.

“Well,” I said in a sing-song voice. “We finally made it, ladies. Miami for Spring Break. It’s as beautiful as I’d dreamed.”

Maddie shrugged out from under my arm and fanned herself frantically with both hands. “I love you, but don’t touch me.” She stuck her tongue out and panted like a dog. “It’s so hot!”

On my other side, Rachel snickered and reached up to knit her fingers through mine. “I’m glad we were all able to make this happen. How are you doing back there, Tara?”

We all glanced back at Tara, who had her phone up and was snapping pictures left and right. “All good back here!”

I tipped my face back to the sun and closed my eyes, letting the heat kiss my sun-screened skin. This was exactly what I needed after all the work I’d been doing. Sun. Beach. And quality time with my best friends. This break would be the definition of perfection with⁠—

“Look out!” Rachel yelped as she grabbed my arm and jerked me sharply to the right.

I staggered, lost my footing, and toppled over sideways, knocking Maddie over like a bowling pin. She landed with a yelp on the soft grass at the edge of the boardwalk while I landed right on top of her bony knees.

Rachel rushed a few feet down the boardwalk and yelled bloody murder at the rollerblading asshat who’d nearly crashed into us. “Watch where you’re going! You’re going to hurt someone!” She planted her fists on her hips and shook her head like a disappointed mother dealing with an obnoxious toddler. “Some people. Are you two okay?” Her attention and concern shifted to Maddie and me, getting to our feet.

“That’s the second time that’s happened,” Maddie said, brushing grass from her tanned legs. “Maybe we should leave the boardwalk to the locals before we break something.”

“This street is a nightmare,” I muttered. The heat of the midday sun added an extra layer of irritation as sweat trickled down my back.

Tara joined us and showed us a picture she’d snapped on her phone of me flying through the air milliseconds before I landed on Maddie. She giggled. “Hannah, look at your face.”

Rachel chuckled. “As beautiful as you’d dreamed, hey, Hannah?”

“Shush,” I said.

The boardwalk in Miami was a swirling, chaotic mess of sunburned tourists, street performers, and rollerbladers who clearly had no regard for pedestrian safety. We stepped out from a cute little boutique with Maddie clutching a bag holding overpriced sunglasses she insisted would change her life. It felt like we were stepping onto the interstate.

Dodging another enthusiastic street performer juggling flaming batons—dangerously close to children eating ice cream—we made our way down the bustling promenade. Maddie adjusted her new sunglasses. Seemingly oblivious to the chaos around her, she admired their effect in the reflection of a nearby shop window.

“Seriously, these are transformative,” Maddie declared, turning her face this way and that, admiring the gold-rimmed lenses.

Rachel rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. “If they give you confidence, I guess you’re right.”

“Can we get something cold to drink? I’m melting,” I said, wiping my forehead. The heat was relentless, and the packed crowd wasn’t helping. “We are not in⁠—”

“Move! Move!” Tara shrieked, her arms windmilling as two rollerbladers zoomed past us, one so close that I could feel the breeze of his passing. I yelped and jumped sideways, bumping into Rachel, who somehow managed to stay upright.

Maddie was pissed. “Excuse me!” she shouted, waving her finger in the air like the schoolteacher she was. “This is a pedestrian walkway!”

The rollerbladers, in all their tank-topped, neon glory, didn’t even slow down.

“Stay right, damn it!” Tara shouted like she was directing traffic. It was both hilarious and deeply unsettling.

“Oh my God, that was close,” Rachel said, brushing imaginary dust off her white shorts. “I think my life just flashed before my eyes.”

“Did it include any hot guys?” Tara asked, grinning. “Because mine did.”

We burst out laughing, the near-death experience already forgotten. Linking arms, we continued our stroll. That was when I spotted it: a lemonade truck parked under a swaying palm tree. “We’re going there.”

“Ooh, lemonade!” Maddie said, tugging me toward it.

“Same,” Rachel said. “But I’m not paying. I bought drinks last time.”