The Beach House (a The Kissing Booth novella)

The Beach House

“Yeah. We had a fight. I think it wants to file for divorce.”

He laughed, and I heard the sound of him dropping clothes onto the floor from my bed, and as I turned around to tell him to be careful and not crease my stuff, he dropped face first onto my bed.

“What were you grumbling to yourself about?” he asked.

“Nothing, just…” He raised an eyebrow, giving me that skeptical look that told me he knew exactly what was up but just wanted to hear me say it.

“Bikini not skimpy enough for my brother?”

I threw a tank top at him. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what? Oh, man, no, don’t tell me you’re gonna make me go shopping for lingerie or something? Please, Shelly, anything but that! Tampons, I can do, but not – not lingerie!”

I laughed. “No that either. You know my pajamas?”

“Oh, that’s all you’re worried about?” Lee laughed. He rolled on my bed and leaned over the edge to look into my case. “They’re fine, don’t worry! You’ll look fine whatever you’re wearing.”

I smiled at Lee. No matter what it was that was getting me down, he could always brighten me back up in an instant.

“How long have you been packing now anyway?” he asked. “Eighteen hours?”

I wavered. “Eight.”

My best friend gave me a long, flat look, and then we both burst out laughing.

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say that you” – I pointed an accusing finger at him – “haven’t even started packing yet.”

“You,” he told me, pointing a finger back at me, “would be totally right.”

It didn’t even surprise me in the slightest. Every year, Lee never packed until the evening before we left. He didn’t really care if he forgot something. He was just that kind of person. And it didn’t surprise him that I’d been packing for eight hours and still wasn’t done. We were like this every year.

Lee cleared his throat and picked up my pillow, tweaking at the pillowcase.

“So… I told you Rachel’s coming, right?”

Only about a billion times…

It was like he was worried I’d act like a five year old and throw a tantrum, tell him he couldn’t change things this year and bring his girlfriend!

In a way, yeah, I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want Rachel there. I wanted it to be the same as it always was and always had been.

But how selfish would that be?

For one thing, I was dating Noah now, his older brother. He was coming with us anyway but now, I could hardly tell Lee I didn’t want him to bring his girlfriend along when I’d have my boyfriend there. That was beyond selfish.

Besides, even if I wasn’t with Noah, things were always going to be different this year anyway.

Noah couldn’t stay the whole time. He’d gone to check out a couple of college campuses already, like San Diego, but he was leaving two days earlier than the rest of us with his Dad to check out Harvard campus. They were flying to Massachusetts while we stayed at the beach house, and they were supposed to be back the same day as us.

I hated that things had to change. Growing up, I’d always thought that we’d always have the beach house. That no matter what, every summer we’d go to the beach house.