It’s definitely Spring Break.
I chug more water, but it doesn’t cure the pounding headache or the exhaustion that aches my muscles. By the time Lily and I went back to bed, it was near three in the morning, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the text and calling my father. I replayed an entire conversation about what I would ask him. How I would frame my words…just to check up on the progress of everything.
“Are you okay?” Ryke asks.
If I say yes, he’ll know I’m lying. So I don’t know why he asks me. “I’ve had hangovers that have felt better than this.” I stretch my arms and legs, loosening up my joints.
Ryke sits on the patio chair and smears cream cheese on the bagel that he ordered from room service. “But this type of pain isn’t accompanied by horrible drunken memories. Consider yourself fucking lucky.”
“Yes, I’m feeling overwhelmingly lucky right now,” I retort bitterly.
“We’ll find that guy,” Ryke tells me. I showed him the texts this morning before Lily woke up. “And then I’m going to put my fist in his fucking face.”
“HEY! THIRD FLOOR!!”
I lean an arm on the balcony railing and spot two American girls in string bikinis, their breasts hardly contained. Like the locals, they’ve tried to adopt the scarce bottom look, asses fully exposed. Both girls hold brightly colored plastic cups, their hair braided across their shoulders.
Ryke stands and puts his forearms on the railing, taking in the sight. He bites into his bagel nonchalantly, watching as the girl in the green bikini waves us down.
“Come swim with us!!” she shouts with a smile.
“Remind me why I came here with a girl,” Ryke says with a longing look. He checks out her ass, and the girl only grins wider.
“Because you didn’t want to be the fifth wheel.” I smile at his distress.
A loud scream echoes from the room, and we both quickly peel away from the balcony and rush inside. Without much room, I bump straight into Connor’s back. He almost trips over the cot that blocks the hall, but he grabs onto the dresser before falling.
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to maneuver around the fold-out bed.
Ryke is so annoyed that he kicks the entire thing. It slams into the wall and somehow efficiently makes room for us to walk.
“Daisy is here,” Connor says.
“What?” Ryke goes rigid. Probably thinking the same as me—that was ahappyscream?
I frown and search the room with a hesitant gaze. But I only spot Melissa on the couch, eating a bagel and typing onher cellphone. Her lips are downturned, not having as much fun as she probably imagined.
“They’re in the bathroom,” Connor explains. “Rose wants to put makeup on and use Daisy’s flatiron. She’s actually excited, but the luxury of name-brand hair products will probably wear off when she realizes that her sixteen-year-old sister just arrived to Cancun duringcollegeSpring Break.”
“So no one knew she was coming?” I ask.
Connor shakes his head. “She wanted to surprise her sisters.”
“She can’t stay,” Ryke says roughly. “I nearly died trying to chaperone her sweet sixteen in Acapulco.”
I heard the story from Lily, who also chaperoned Daisy’s birthday. Apparently the fearless Calloway jumped off a cliff into the ocean and Ryke felt the need to jump in after her.
“I won’t let her jump off anything,” I tell him. “I happen to be a damn good chaperone.”
He glares. “You couldn’t chaperone a fucking sloth. And that requires remedial skills like sitting and watching.”
I shoot him a hard look. I honestly don’t care if Daisy stays or not. One more person in an already crowded room won’t change anything. “Daisy blends in. You won’t even notice she’s here.”
His brows harden and his jaw sets, equally as firm. “When’s the last time you’ve fucking seen her?”
I want to saylast week, but I’m certain that’s wrong. I strain my mind. I guess I haven’t seen her since I’ve been back from rehab. In fact, I don’t think I ran into her at the Christmas Charity Gala last year. Granted, I didn’t stay long. The last time I saw her must have been during the yacht trip to the Bahamas—when Lily and I became a real couple. Jesus.
That was a long time ago.
