I scowled. Dammit. Mission V-card was turning out to be Mission Impossible.
“But, hey, messing around is cool, and I don’t have a problem with virgins giving blow jobs.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
“Chase, sweetie, I preferred it when you acted honorably.”
He winked. “It was worth a try.”
“There’s always next summer,” I deadpanned.
We said our good-byes and I began cycling home. My phone buzzed. I stopped and pulled it out.
Jay Bird: You ditch the dick yet?
And suddenly Joey’s text just made me mad. Even though I’d gone along with it before. Who the hell was he to call Chase a dick?
Jazzy Bear: Actually he turned out to be very, very far from a dick.
There was no answer. Good. Let him stew on that for a while.
I GAVE CHASE’S rental house to Tamsyn to clean on Saturday morning. Maybe they’d hit it off. Chase and I had texted a couple of times since our good-bye. I’d invited him to another beach bonfire we were having the following Friday, our last day of school and the day before our little island town got inundated by Memorial Day Weekend tourists. It was also the night before my eighteenth birthday.
Instead of spending a few early hours before housekeeping on my dad’s boat, I had to go do lifeguard training down at the beach. By nine-thirty in the morning, I’d swum out to the buoys and back four times and run three miles as well as countless small sprints and piggy backs. My calves burned and my arms felt useless. I cringed with pain through my cleaning schedule, so by the time I was done and had dropped off the van filled with laundry at the Housekeeping office, I felt like a dead fish. Crusted in salt and practically in rigor mortis.
I limped into the Snapper Grill to see Keri Ann and collapsed onto a bar stool. She was probably in back loading the dishwasher since it was toward the end of her shift. Paulie, the owner, finished a perfect head on a beer, and then came over to me. “Darlin’ you ain’t old enough to be propping up my bar. And though you look like you could use a drink, I ain’t serving’ you one.”
“Gee thanks, Old Man. I was gonna order a Coke straight up, but I guess I could take my business over to Woody’s.” I made to get up, hiding my grin that turned into a grimace as my muscles screamed in protest.
“On the rocks with lemon?” he asked.
I let out a long suffering sigh. “Fine, I’ll stay. But only because I’m physically handicapped at this particular moment. Lifeguard training and housekeeping,” I added, by way of explanation.
Paulie arched a bushy white eyebrow. “Coke coming right up. So how’s your ma? Heard she got a job over at Hilton Head Hospital.”
“She did. She loves it. Working for Dr. Barrett. Joey Butler’s gonna intern with him too this summer.”
“Oh yeah? I thought that boy was too high and mighty to stay down here with the likes of us.”
I chuckled. “Me too. But I guess Nana’s getting older.”
He put a tall glass of ice cold Coke in front of me.
My mouth watered. “Thanks,” I said.
“Very fond of that lady, I am. Her and her neighbor Mrs. Weaton kick my ass at Canasta every Wednesday. Though haven’t seen Mrs. Butler in a while.”
“I’m sure she’ll be back soon enough. She hates to miss it.” Keri Ann exited the kitchen in my peripheral vision. I wrinkled my nose. “Your bar top is sticky,” I said loudly. “I guess you can’t get good help around here.”
“I’m not allowed near the bar according to Paulie,” Keri answered untying her apron. “So don’t blame me.”
Paulie pushed the dollar bill I’d put down back at me, and I blew him a kiss. “You’re not old enough to serve alcohol,” he said to Keri Ann. “You done for the day?”
“Hector kicked me out of his kitchen. Said I was messing with his system. So yeah.”
“Best employee I ever had that guy.”
“Thanks,” Keri Ann muttered, pretending to be offended, and slid into a stool next to me. Paulie jetted a Coke into a glass for her too.
“So,” she said to me as Paulie walked away from us farther down the bar.
“So,” I said.
“Haven’t heard how it went with Chase the other night.”
I laid my forehead down on the wooden bar top that was actually spotlessly clean.
“That bad, huh?” she asked.
“Worse,” I grumbled. “I’m so not cut out for this. So I want him for casual sex, right? But I spend the whole time analyzing every douchey thing he says.” I lowered my voice. “Until the very last thing I want to do is get naked with him. Then I realize we don’t need to be compatible to do the dirty. In fact, it’s him who points out we’re just having fun. And I guess a beacon blared across my forehead because it was like he suddenly knew I was a virgin.” I glanced around making sure we were still alone. “Coz apparently,” I make air quotes, “he has a rule about that.”
Keri Ann covered her mouth with her hand, half laughing. “Shit. How? Did you do something?”
“We were kissing. But, like, is there a virginal kiss? I mean there was tongue. I was a … participant. What the hell?”