Heads or Tails

Chapter 6

"Come on, Steph. It's a beautiful day," I tell her. "You can sleep in a lounger by the pool. Imagine the tan you'll get."

I refuse to let either of them sleep through this vacation. Being hungover is not an excuse.

I lean forward and tug Stephanie's pillow from under her head. She groans and reaches for another pillow, and tosses it at me. This makes me laugh, and Michelle laughs, too.

"Fine," Stephanie finally concedes. "I'll get up. And not because you want me to, but because I want to find the perfect lounger for my tan. I also need some food. I'm starving."

Twenty minutes later, we ate pancakes and drank coffee at a buffet restaurant. Michelle forced herself to swallow another bite of food. She pressed a finger to her temple and rubbed it in a circular motion. Stephanie sipped coffee and slipped on sunglasses to hide her puffy and bloodshot eyes. Her hair rested in a sloppy knot on the top of her head.

I'm nowhere near as hungover as they appear. I feel groggy, but my energy level is nothing a cup of coffee can't fix.

Michelle rambles about how excited she is to wear a bandeau bikini top. This way, she can get a kick-ass tan without tan lines. Stephanie complains she needs to lie down in a lounger ASAP. When I looked up, I noticed she looked a little nauseous. Her skin is rather pale.

My eyes travel over her shoulder to Steven and his parents walking into the buffet restaurant. When he catches me staring, my heart beats in wild gallops. He smiles and politely waves to me as a server guides them to a nearby table. His subtle acknowledgement makes my cheeks heat. Michelle and Stephanie turned around to follow my gaze and see what captivated me.

"Ooh, Steven," Michelle giggled, turning around to face me again. "Look at how red you are." She points at my cheeks. "After last night, I have to say, he's a real catch. You'd be crazy not to pounce on that guy."

"We just met," I whisper-hiss. "Don't pressure me."

My jaw dropped when I watched Steven pull out a chair for his mother to sit down.

Even Stephanie reacts to this, blowing out a low whistle. "Now that's boyfriend material."

He seems too good to be true, almost awkwardly so. Part of me feels a little inferior in his presence. I mean, what grown man pulls out a chair for his mother? An awesomely perfect one, that's what, and I am nowhere near worthy of dating him.

"It's a little much," I whisper. "I mean, come on. Look at him. He's laughing with his parents. He looks as if he enjoys their company."

My parents' strained relationship afforded me the complete opposite. My family would never have a cheerful breakfast together at a luxury resort. I've yearned for a traditional family my entire existence.

"Imagine you two ended up together," Michelle says. "Can you imagine yourself having a casual breakfast with his parents and enjoying it?"

When she says this, I think long and hard about an answer. But with minimal effort, I can see myself holding hands with Steven as we walk into a restaurant. I imagine his mother would call me Dear, and I would call her Ma. I also imagine Steven would pull out a chair for me and then his mother. The conversation would flow, and we would tell jokes. His father would tell Steven he was lucky to have me, and we'd raise our coffee cups in unison and toast to a new day.

It seems simple enough— imagining Steven and I in a relationship. Jessica also knows me better than anyone other than Ben. She wouldn't have introduced us if she had doubts that Steven and I wouldn't work.

"Oh shit," Stephanie murmurs, knocking me out of my fantasy.

I slowly see Jessica approaching our table with what appears to be tickets and brochures fanned in her hand.