Caribbean Cruising by Rachel Hawthorne Page A
Authors: Rachel Hawthorne
Tags: Fiction, Juvenile Fiction, Social Issues, New Experience, Dating & Sex, Adolescence, Dating (Social Customs), Cruise Ships, Caribbean Area
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stick-in-the-mud," I retorted.
"Well, he wasn't exactly Mr. Party Guy on the boat this afternoon," Brooke asked.
"We crashed his party," I reminded her. "He invited me, I invited you, and you invited the guys we met last night. So maybe he was a little bummed. Maybe he had a right to be."
She shrugged. "Whatever."
I was a little ticked off at her for not appreciating everything Ryan had given us this afternoon. There was a part of me that liked Brooke, and a part of me that thought Brooke was all about Brooke. That maybe she thought the world revolved around her.
Not that we don't all have moments like that, but Brooke seemed to think everything centered on her all the time.
She hooked her arm through mine. "The afternoon is over, and it's time to find some guys to warm us through the night."
Warm us through the night. Yes, I was so down with that. And just like that I decided to overlook some of Brooke's more irritating aspects, and to just appreciate the party girl in her. And hope that some of the party girl would rub off on me, because I thought only a major distraction was going to cause me to stop thinking about Ryan's kiss.
Music filtered out into the night as Brooke and I checked out the nightlife. She was totally into it, snapping her fingers, singing a few lines of a tune whenever we heard a song that we knew.
I was completely loose and relaxed when Brooke grabbed my hand and led me into a thatched-roofed building. From the look at the people inside, no one dressed up for island night life apparently.
"This way," Brooke called back to me as she marched forward, unafraid.
We wended our way among the crowds until we reached the veranda and courtyard. The islands were known for their steel-pan bands, and here the music from a live band resonated around us.
"Over here," Brooke said, pointing to a small table.
We'd barely sat down when a waitress came over to take our orders. Brooke ordered two beers before I could say anything.
Brooke was bobbing her shoulders up and down, rolling them around, in rhythm with the music.
"Is this not cool?" she asked.
"Absolutely."
The waitress returned with our drinks. Brooke picked a bottle up, then turned back to give her attention to the band. I smiled at the waitress, dug into my pocket, and retrieved some money to place on her tray.
I was beginning to notice that when it was time to pay for things, Brooke was usually preoccupied—
watching something else or conveniently talking with someone.
mhtml:file://C:\Program Files\eMule\Incoming\+ Hawthorne, Rachel - Caribbean Cruising....
4/6/2009
Page 67 of 146
I didn't mind. I didn't have any expenses on this trip except for what I spent on the islands, and I'd been saving my money for some time.
Once the waitress walked away, Brook turned back to me and tapped the neck of her bottle against mine.
"To good times."
Lifting my bottle, I returned the gesture.
This was so unlike anything that my buds and I had done before, that I was feeling a little like a stranger in a strange land. And yet, I loved it. The sounds, the atmosphere, the people who continually wandered in and out.
It was obvious that most of the people were tourists. Too many were sunburned or had zinc oxide covering their noses. Probably from doing much of the same things that we'd done today.
I watched as a couple of guys at one table were chugalugging bottles of beer without stopping, their friends cheering them on. I figured the winner was the one who finished first.
A resounding cheer went up as a dark-haired guy slammed his empty bottle on the table and released a large belch. Everyone was patting him on the back. He wore a lei around his neck. Only one button on his Hawaiian shirt was buttoned. That seemed to be about as dressed up as he got. He caught me looking at him and grinned.
In an effort to improve my flirtation technique, I grinned back.
"So how would you describe Ryan's kiss?" Brooke asked.
I jerked my attention away from the
"Well, he wasn't exactly Mr. Party Guy on the boat this afternoon," Brooke asked.
"We crashed his party," I reminded her. "He invited me, I invited you, and you invited the guys we met last night. So maybe he was a little bummed. Maybe he had a right to be."
She shrugged. "Whatever."
I was a little ticked off at her for not appreciating everything Ryan had given us this afternoon. There was a part of me that liked Brooke, and a part of me that thought Brooke was all about Brooke. That maybe she thought the world revolved around her.
Not that we don't all have moments like that, but Brooke seemed to think everything centered on her all the time.
She hooked her arm through mine. "The afternoon is over, and it's time to find some guys to warm us through the night."
Warm us through the night. Yes, I was so down with that. And just like that I decided to overlook some of Brooke's more irritating aspects, and to just appreciate the party girl in her. And hope that some of the party girl would rub off on me, because I thought only a major distraction was going to cause me to stop thinking about Ryan's kiss.
Music filtered out into the night as Brooke and I checked out the nightlife. She was totally into it, snapping her fingers, singing a few lines of a tune whenever we heard a song that we knew.
I was completely loose and relaxed when Brooke grabbed my hand and led me into a thatched-roofed building. From the look at the people inside, no one dressed up for island night life apparently.
"This way," Brooke called back to me as she marched forward, unafraid.
We wended our way among the crowds until we reached the veranda and courtyard. The islands were known for their steel-pan bands, and here the music from a live band resonated around us.
"Over here," Brooke said, pointing to a small table.
We'd barely sat down when a waitress came over to take our orders. Brooke ordered two beers before I could say anything.
Brooke was bobbing her shoulders up and down, rolling them around, in rhythm with the music.
"Is this not cool?" she asked.
"Absolutely."
The waitress returned with our drinks. Brooke picked a bottle up, then turned back to give her attention to the band. I smiled at the waitress, dug into my pocket, and retrieved some money to place on her tray.
I was beginning to notice that when it was time to pay for things, Brooke was usually preoccupied—
watching something else or conveniently talking with someone.
mhtml:file://C:\Program Files\eMule\Incoming\+ Hawthorne, Rachel - Caribbean Cruising....
4/6/2009
Page 67 of 146
I didn't mind. I didn't have any expenses on this trip except for what I spent on the islands, and I'd been saving my money for some time.
Once the waitress walked away, Brook turned back to me and tapped the neck of her bottle against mine.
"To good times."
Lifting my bottle, I returned the gesture.
This was so unlike anything that my buds and I had done before, that I was feeling a little like a stranger in a strange land. And yet, I loved it. The sounds, the atmosphere, the people who continually wandered in and out.
It was obvious that most of the people were tourists. Too many were sunburned or had zinc oxide covering their noses. Probably from doing much of the same things that we'd done today.
I watched as a couple of guys at one table were chugalugging bottles of beer without stopping, their friends cheering them on. I figured the winner was the one who finished first.
A resounding cheer went up as a dark-haired guy slammed his empty bottle on the table and released a large belch. Everyone was patting him on the back. He wore a lei around his neck. Only one button on his Hawaiian shirt was buttoned. That seemed to be about as dressed up as he got. He caught me looking at him and grinned.
In an effort to improve my flirtation technique, I grinned back.
"So how would you describe Ryan's kiss?" Brooke asked.
I jerked my attention away from the
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