That was it. The words were like the cue I had been waiting to hear. My fist flew up from the side of my hip and caught him under the chin. He reeled back into the arms of the girl.
“What the hell, Kaitlyn?” He massaged his chin.
“Oh my God, Branch. Are you ok?” The bikini girl leaned over to look at his chin. The way she touched him, I knew they weren’t new acquaintances.
I exhaled. I couldn’t decide what I hated more: Branch or people saying “girl drama.” I had never punched anyone in my life, but I felt so much better.
“Bye, Branch. Enjoy your vacation.” I swung the door open and slammed it behind me with as much force as I could muster.
I didn’t know where I was going to find a place to stay for the week, but anywhere far from Branch was fine with me.
By the time I returned to the lobby, the line of guests checking in had dispersed. The nice girl at the counter smiled when she spotted me.
“No luck?” she asked.
“Not exactly. Ex-boyfriend disaster.” I sighed. “I know this is kind of a strange question to ask you, but could you recommend another hotel? I’m homeless and luggage-less.” I laughed. The whole scenario was absurd.
“Oh my God, that’s terrible. Everywhere is going to be booked up. This is one of the craziest months of the year on the island.” She pulled out her phone. “But I might know somewhere that isn’t booked—it’s not great, but at least you might have somewhere to stay.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate anything right now. I haven’t had dinner, or lunch, and I think I’m actually delirious.” That was going to be my excuse for punching Branch, even though he completely deserved it. He was the asshole.
“Ok, my friend just texted me and said the Dune Scape is open and has vacancies.” She reached for a sticky note.
“Dune Scape?” It sounded like something out of a 1950s beach movie.
“It’s a motel, but there are open rooms. Here’s the address.” She handed me a Post-it with an address and a phone number. “I’m Sasha, by the way. If you need anything else, I put my number at the bottom too. Just text me. If any open rooms turn up here, I’ll let you know—just give me your cell.”
“Thank you. This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me all day.” I jotted my digits down for her.
“I can’t let your first trip to South Padre be anything but amazing. It’s the kind of place that’s hard to forget.” Her brown eyes softened. “It didn’t start out so great for you, but I have a feeling the week will turn around for you.”
I winced at the tenderness in my knuckles as I tucked her number in my bag. “Thanks, Sasha. I already feel like there’s no way I’ll forget this trip.”
I turned toward the sliding doors.
Before he could hop in his van, I asked the first driver I spotted if he knew where the Dune Scape was. His raised eyebrow should have deterred me, but I was desperate and according to Sasha the motel was the only place on the island I could stay. He motioned for me to sit in the second row, and peeled the van away from the curb. From the wide windows, I watched the Wave Oasis, its fluffy white robes, endless sunset cocktails, and tropical flowers roll out of view.
5
Kaitlyn
“Here you go.” The driver parked next to a cabin-sized building. A red vacancy sign blinked in the waited. He waited for me to pay him the five dollars it cost to drive two minutes from the Wave Oasis.
“This is the Dune Scape?” Nothing about the place looked open. I already missed the bright hibiscus flowers and the nice girl from the front desk.
“Yep. You’re here.” The driver strummed his fingers along the steering wheel
I handed him a five-dollar bill and pushed open the car door. Before I could climb back in, he had made a full U-turn and was back on the highway. I pivoted on my heels to face the Dune Scape. This was it—my only option.
I smoothed out my shirt and took a deep breath. I reached for the handle on the office door, but it was stuck. I jiggled it a few times, trying to move it left or right until it broke off in my hand. Great, I already had damage charges and didn’t even have a room yet. I knocked on the door.
The door whipped open. A towering figure stood in front of me. The light behind his head made it difficult to make out the features of his face, but I could see the outline of a chiseled jaw and broad shoulders.
“I—uh—I broke your doorknob.” I offered the part to the shadowed guy.
“Damn it,” he mumbled.
“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to break it.” I followed him into the dim-lit office. In the side, a window-unit hummed and blasted cool air into the small space. “Sorry.”