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“Oh, he’ll be here, with a hard on. That’s all he thinks about.”
Debbie thumped the Virginia Slim with her finger, ashes flying. “So, you gonna give in?”
Donja snatched the cigarette, took a deep drag and then without a word squatted, snuffed it in sand and set her stride past the rows of cars onto the beach. She scanned the maze of bodies down to the south pier, which was packed. She raised a hand to her brow to shield the setting sun which was glistening orange and red across the horizon. She wiggled her toes in the warm sand, searching the faces.
“Donja!” A voice rang amid a cacophony of gulls screeching, kids screaming and waves crashing.
Donja spun with gentle winds whipping in from the lake and tossing her ponytail. She saw Steve, Jose, Dumi and Rollie walking toward them, shirtless and barefoot in baggy swim trunks.
“We have a group down on the north end of the beach,” Dumi said pointing with his hand. His eyes washed over them. Dressed in a bikini, which she only wore to impress Kevin, Donja pulled her beach bag tight over her tummy. Dumi raised his head. “Looking good, girl.”
Donja smiled, pearly whites flashing.
“Did you guys bring any drinks?” Rollie asked.
“We got a bottle of Jim Beam I swiped from my dad’s liquor cabinet,” Debbie said.
“Damn, we’re scarce on the good stuff.” He sighed. “Just a little vodka and some rum but Kyle brought some kick ass smoke.”
“Where you guys headed?” Donja asked.
“For coke and seven-up, you guys go on, we’ll be back.”
Donja took a few steps then paused, turned and called out. “Hey Dumi. Is Kevin here?”
Dumi turned to face her with a hand shielding his eyes. “Uhh, yeah, he is, he…ahhh.” He stumbled on his words. “He, uh…he came with Brandy.”
“Brandy?”
“Uhh…yeah.”
Donja felt a sting, like harsh slap to the face.
That sonofabitch?
She spun, headed down the beach clinging to her beach bag.
Debbie fell in beside her. “You wanta leave—I mean, you’re shaking, I can see it and if you do—well, I’m like okay with it, really, I am,” she rambled. “It’s our last night together and I’m totally good if you—”
“No!” Donja interrupted. “I’m not gonna let that two-timing jerk ruin my going away party. Screw him!”
“Well I think that’s why he’s with Brandy.”
Donja glanced sideways with a scowl.
“The screw part,” Debbie exclaimed with wide eyes. “That’s what I meant. She’ll hump anything.”
“Pa…lease,” Donja groaned. “That’s one visual I could live without.”
“Sorry,” Debbie said as they maneuvered through a multitude of beach goers. Donja dodged a beach ball and then turned her head just in the nick of time as two young boys engaged in a sand fight all but peppered her face. Just past three girls who were burying some guy in heaps of sand, they found the rest of their group, St. Joseph high schoolers who had been friends forever. Donja swallowed hard, people were waving and despite her anxiety, she felt pretty good about it all. That is until she saw Kevin hanging all over Brandy Smith.
She turned away, her gut churning. She felt lightheaded and weak in the knees.
How could he do this to me?
She pulled the bottle of whiskey from the beach bag, unscrewed it, turned it up and guzzled. She coughed harshly, Jim Beam burning all the way to her stomach. She turned and though she knew damn well that she shouldn’t, she cast a look at Kevin. He glanced back with a smile that would charm bees. Time stood still and then, as if he had never professed his love, or held her tight with sweet kisses, he turned his attention back to Brandy.
Donja averted her gaze, a thousand daggers to the heart.
