I huff. “Whatever.”
“Plus, he’s the man behind the scenes—not the one in the scene.”
“That’s the only reason I’m just gently reminding you about my disapproval. He’s a great guy, okay? I just—he should do something else with his time.”
“What, like strut around a pool, dealing with sweaty tourists all day like we do?”
“I don’t strut,” I tell her. “Do you?”
“How do you think I make my tips?” she says, laughing.
“I didn’t think you made tips. Remember, you said you have no money to pay for rent or utilities?”
“Right, well, try strutting a little next time you’re about to jump into the pool after someone. You’re prettier than I am, so I’m sure it’ll work out for you.” She sticks her tongue out at me like the little girl she still acts like and leaves my bedroom.
I climb out of bed and pull out a folded pile of clothes from my dresser. I have five sets of my uniforms, and when the pile gets slim, I know it’s getting close to the end of a work week, but today, the pile is full. A pile of Mondays, that’s what it is.
I pull on my red, guard shorts and throw my vibrantly colored, floral tank top over my head. Although the shirt just says, “Lifeguard,” it screams “Aloha, tourists!”
With a quick yank, I pull the elastic from my hair, feeling my long waves fall heavily against the back of my shirt. I shower at night so I can sleep a little later, even though Lea still wakes me up earlier than necessary. I braid my hair and toss it over the back of my shoulder. Done. Yet, I’m willing to bet Lea is on step-two of her un-meltable makeup configuration.
“This is why you don’t need to wake me up in the mornings,” I tell her as I pass by her room, confirming my assumption. “You’re sweating in the sun all day. Give it up with the gobs of makeup.”
“I’m sweating all day,” she repeats. “That’s why I need makeup.”
“Okay, well, I’ll be in the car waiting ... ” I say, but mutter under my breath, “for the next fifteen minutes until we’re on the cusp of being late.”
It’s not fair that I was forced to grow up before Lea was, but life happens and all the crap that goes along with it. It’s why I try to be responsible and make sure she’s heading down the right path in life. That’s all I’ve been doing for the last ten years since Mom and Dad passed. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I was eighteen, and she was twelve. She was already a rough teenager, just a year into those horrific tween years, but she knew we were on thin ice with the state. We fought tooth and nail to make sure I gained custody of her. I wasn’t old enough to be raising a teenager, but there was nothing in this world that was going to take Lea away from me, until now—until Noa. I inhale, trying to think peaceful thoughts, still attempting to digest the idea of Lea being someone’s wife. I like Noa. He’s a great guy. He’s smart, spent four years in the Marines, has nice parents, and he adores Lea, but he works non-stop, running a restaurant, and I don’t know if that kind of life and the resulting lack of “together time” will bode well for someone like Lea who needs constant attention.
“Here, ready, let’s hit the road, lady,” Lea sings as she hops into the passenger seat.
“How much coffee have you had this morning?” I ask her.
“A pot,” she says, whipping her head around and smiling at me like the damn Joker.
“Dear God, get me through today,” I mumble. “Why did I think it was a good idea for you to work with me?”
“Because I was fired from the hair salon. That’s why,” she reminds me.
Right. She was giving out free haircuts to Noa for four months because evidently, Noa needs haircuts once a week. Kenny Chesney blares through Lea’s phone just as I switch the gear into drive. “Who is calling this early?” I ask her.Why am I even asking?
She doesn’t answer me as she picks up the phone. “Hi, honey!” Noa. Of course. The nights she actually sleeps in her own bed, Noa calls first thing in the morning to remind her that he loves her, just so she knows this very important piece of information before she starts her shift at the pool bar, which he frequents almost daily. “Of course, no problem.” What is she agreeing to now? “Yeah, I know they’re almost sold out tonight, but I’ll be able to snag a free one.” She’s friends with the front desk manager. As a matter of fact, she’s friends with everyone. Half of the hotel staff calls me “Hey,” but that’s cool. I’m not the socialite like Lea. “I love you more.” A giggle ensues. “No, I—I can’t do this right now, Kai is next to me.” She cups her hand around the phone as if I can’t hear what she’s saying. “You know I do.” Giggle number two. “Okay, okay, yes. I do! Bye, babe.”
I shake my head. “You’re the most annoying sister in the entire world.”
“No, you are,” she says, poking my arm. “Noa’s friend is moving into town, and his house was supposed to be ready today, but I guess they need another few days, so he asked if there are any free rooms at the hotel.”
“There’s no way. I’m pretty sure I heard they were planning to walk people today with how booked up they are.”
“Eh, I’ll wink and nudge. George loves me. He’ll help me out. Plus, the guy is a Marine, and that’s all they’ll need to hear.”
“You ask for a lot of favors for someone who’s only been working at the hotel for such a short time,” I remind her.
“It makes up for you never asking for favors, so it kind of just works itself out, you know?”
“That’s exactly how it works,” I lament.
We pull into the overfilled lot and find one tiny spot at the very end of the last row. It’s going to be a madhouse here today. “Put on your happy face. It’s time to get busy,” she squeals.
