Don't Tell (Don't 1)

Hearing Sue’s story didn’t comfort me. I was still hoping my phone would ring any second with a call from the airport saying they were on their way with my clothes. I hadn’t itemized what was in the suitcase, but there were more sentimental things than just my school T-shirt.

“Well, let’s get you some things to wear. You here for graduation week?” She flashed a red lipstick smile.

“I am. All week.” Standing in Tassels Surf Shop, it was starting to sink in that a week in paradise was a long time to spend alone.

“Oh, wonderful. That’s so good to hear. I’m Lisa.” She reached her hand to me.

“Kaitlyn.” I shook the freckled hand that had seen obvious years of sun.

“Where you from, honey?” She busied herself with a circular stand of board shorts.

“North Carolina.”

“Why don’t you just go right in that dressing room and I’ll bring you a few things to try on?” Lisa shuttled me over to a cubicle covered by a curtain that had been strung across the doorway.

Normally, I would have browsed the racks myself, but Lisa had a mothering hen approach that I followed like a new chick. I waited in the cubby for her to select a few pieces.

“I brought a few different sundresses. That’s what all the girls are wearing this year. I guessed on your size.” She shoved the hangers and dresses in through the slit in the curtain. “I’ll be right back with a few bathing suits for you to try.”

I looked at the collection of dresses she handed me. They were all short and strappy. I dipped my leg into a green one and pulled the straps over my shoulders.

Lisa reached a handful of bikinis in through the curtain. “Why, don’t you look, darlin’, in that dress? Green is definitely your color.”

I looked at the girl in the mirror with choppy blond bangs. “I’ll take it.”

“Good, now try on these suits. With your figure, they’re all going to look great. I wish I could still wear some of these. I’ll grab some sandals and flip-flops for you to try too.”

Lisa sure knew how to sweet-talk her way into a sale. There was no hiding the curves in my hips or in my breasts. I made a pouty face with my lips, wondering if Cole would notice me like this. Would I look different to him?

I chose a turquoise bikini out of the pile of prints she gave me. I liked the bright color against my skin, even though I was in desperate need of some sun.

I walked to the register in the green dress with a tank top, two fitted T-shirts, a pair of running shorts, khaki shorts, and my bikini folded in my arms.

“Is it ok if I wear the dress now?” I asked.

“Of course. It really is your color.”

I felt better being out of the sticky jeans. Something about wearing a dress just made me feel prettier.

While I was in the dressing room, Lisa had collected an assortment of sunscreen, toothpaste, and shampoo for me. It looked like she had all my short-term needs covered.

I handed her my spring break credit card.

There goes two hundred dollars I didn’t plan to spend, but I was more than making up for it by staying at the Dune Scape. I could afford a few outfits.

“I’m so glad you came in tonight. Now if you need anything this week—you know, if you’re luggage doesn’t show—you just come right back here and I’ll help you find something else.” She winked as she passed two bags to me over the counter. “I’ve got every necessity right here in this store.”

“Thank you, so much, Lisa. I hope my bag gets here tonight, but I promise I’ll come back before I leave.” I spotted a black dress on a corner stand that I wanted to try on during my next shopping trip.

I smiled and walked out the door in the direction of the bar the Dune Scape Cole had suggested. It was easy to navigate around the beach neighborhood.

I walked into Peabody’s in my new green dress and sandals, feeling slightly reenergized, but famished.

A guitar player was perched in the corner singing an acoustic song I had never heard about a girl with eyes as blue as the Texas sky. I sidestepped a few guys playing pool and made my way to the bar that stretched the length of Peabody’s.

“What can I get you?” The bartender had a warm smile. He reminded me of my dad with the way the edges of his hair were peppered with gray. I was terrible at guessing ages for people my parents’ age, but he was probably fifty.

I slid onto an open barstool and dropped my wardrobe bags to the floor. “I’m starving. I could eat anything. What do you recommend?”