AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mom gives Susan a look. “I don’t think that’s wise,” Mom says.
“Why not?” I challenge.
“If you want my opinion, it has to less to do with the age than the expectation. You’ve grown up with a drinking age of twenty-one, so you’re not necessarily prepared for drinking now,” is Susan’s therapist answer.
“I’m sorry, but did you not go to college?” I ask. “I can’t imagine it’s changed that much. Do you not remember how all anyone does is drink?”
My parents look at each other, then at Susan and Steve.
“Is that’s what going on with you? Have you been drinking too much at school?” Dad asks.
Melanie laughs so hard that the special bottled water Mom brings sprays through her nose. “I’m sorry, Frank, but do you not even know Allyson?” They continue to stare. “On the tour last summer, everyone drank.” There is a moment of shocked silence. “Oh, spare me! The legal drinking age in Europe is eighteen! Anyhow, everyone drank but Allyson. She’s totally straight and narrow. And you’re asking if she’s boozing it up at college? That’s ludicrous.”
My dad stares at me, then at Melanie. “We’re just trying to understand what’s going on with her. Why she got a two-seven GPA.”
Now it’s Melanie’s turn to gawk. “You got a two-seven?” She clamps her hand over her lips and mouths, “Sorry.” The look she gives me is one part surprise, one part respect.
“Melanie got a three-point-eight,” Mom brags.
“Yes, Melanie is a genius, and I am an idiot. It’s official.”
Melanie looks wounded. “I go to the Gallatin School. Everyone gets As,” she says apologetically.
“And Melanie probably drinks,” I say, knowing full well she does.
She looks nervous for a second. “Of course I do. I don’t pass out or anything. But it’s college. I drink. Everyone drinks.”
“I don’t,” I say. “And Melanie has the A average, and I have the C, so maybe I should go on a few benders and things will even out. Maybe that’s a much better idea than this stupid study hall you have me in.”
I’m really into this now, which is kind of crazy, because I don’t even want a beer. One of the few things I like about this restaurant is the virgin margaritas—they’re made with fresh fruit.
Mom turns to me, her mouth ready to catch some flies. “Allyson, do you have a drinking problem?”
I smack my hand to my head. “Mother, do you have a hearing problem? Because I don’t know that you heard a word I said.”
“I think she’s saying that you might ease up a little and let them have a beer with dinner,” Susan says.
“Thank you!” I say to Susan.
My mom looks to my dad. “Let the girls have a beer,” he says expansively as he waves the waiter back over and asks for a couple of Tecates.
It’s a victory of sorts. Except that I don’t actually like beer, so in the end, I have to pretend to sip from mine as it grows sweaty on the table, and I don’t order the virgin margarita I really wanted.
The next day, Melanie and I are sitting at the giant pool together. It’s the first time we’ve managed to be alone since we got here.
“I think we should do something different,” she says.
“Me too,” I say. “Every year we come down here and we do the same things. We go to the same frigging ruins, even. Tulum is nice, but I was thinking we could branch out. Talk our parents into going somewhere new.”
“Like swimming with the dolphins?” Melanie asks.
Dolphin swimming is different, but it’s not what I’m after. Yesterday, I was looking at the map of the Yucatán Peninsula in the lobby, and some of the ruins are inland, more off the beaten path. Maybe we’d find a bit more of the real Mexico. “I was thinking we could go to Coba or Chichén Itzá. Different ruins.”
“Oh, you’re so wild,” Melanie teases. She takes a slurp of iced tea. “Anyhow, I’m talking about New Year’s Eve.”
“Oh. You mean you don’t want to do the Macarena with Johnny Maximo?” Johnny Maximo is this washed-up Mexican movie star who now has some job with the resort. All the mothers love him because he’s handsome and macho and is always pretending to mistake them for our sisters.
“Anything but the Macarena!” Melanie puts down her book, something by Rita Mae Brown that looks like it’s for school but Melanie says is not. “One of the bartenders told me about some big party on the beach in Puerto Morelos. It’s a local thing, though he says lots of tourists come, but people like us. Young people. There’s going to be a Mexican reggae band, which sounds bizarre. In a good way.”
