Melissa is in a good mood now. She sits on Ryke’s shoulders, clapping beside me as the next song starts.
A gust of smoke plumes up by my nose, and I sniff the salty air. Joints are lit all over this beach, the smells overpowering, but this one is so near that I look down. Daisy stands directly in front of Ryke and Lo, a cigarette pinched between two fingers. At least it’s not pot. So there’s that.
She effortlessly keeps the cigarette from burning anyone in close proximity, and she lifts her head to blow the smoke into the air away from other people. Except me, of course.
I’ve let Daisy smoke on numerous occasions. I didn’t know my place to tell other people to stop when I can barely stop myself. I hate the thought of being a hypocrite. But I’m under the impression that Daisy only smokes recreationally. I imagine that recreation turning into a habit, which turns into an addiction. I just can’t bear for Daisy to go through what I am.
Before I can say anything, Ryke plucks the cigarette right from her fingers and tosses it into the sand.
I don’t see her reaction because the rapper has stopped singing and starts talking, the music still going on behind him. “Now I want to see more ladies in the air! On shoulders now! Let’s go!” Girls start climbing on random guys’ shoulders, being lifted into the air like Melissa and me.
Connor doesn’t even ask Rose, probably knowing she would prefer to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground. Daisy taps a bandana-wearing guy in front of her. He gives her a long once-over from head to breasts—mainly staying on her breasts that fit in a neon green bikini, the fringe accentuating her boobs from a small B to a C.
“I’m light,” she tells him. And then she whispers in his ear.
Melissa is watching Ryke with the utmost scrutiny, but he doesn’t say a word.
The guy breaks into a big dopey grin, which is not good. I am thinking sexual things—like Daisy whispered to him that she will return the favor of sitting on his shoulders. Sexual favors, of course. But maybe that’s just my dirty mind playing tricks on me again.
I put my hands on Lo’s head and glance down at him. He is glaring at the guy. So…Maybe everyone is just as dirty as me. I grin at the idea.
The bandana guy bends down to let her on his shoulders.
When she’s at my height, she turns a little and gives me a high-five, oblivious to the overprotective guys below me.
“Ladies! Say yeah!” The rapper chants.
“YEAH!” This is kind of fun. My smile takes over my face.
“Guys! Say fuck yeah!”
“FUCK YEAH!”
He continues a portion of his song, the beat pumping and my view officially gone with the amount of girls on shoulders.
“Now ladies!” He goes back to his talking. “It’s Spring Break! Let’s see those titties!”
Wait. What?
I go still while the girls around me respond by flinging off their bikini tops, as though the rapper said a magic word.
All I heard was titties, which has the opposite effect on my willingness to free-boob. Everyone hollers in drunken excitement, eyes wide at the sight of nipples and springy parts.
Boobs of all sizes jiggle and bounce around me. I’m slapping Lo’s face, his nose, his cheek—get me down. Down. I need down. Now.
Beside me, Melissa has already pulled the string to her top. Which is cool. She has pretty boobs. She drops her top on Ryke’s head. He grabs it and looks up, exactly what she wanted.
I have nothing much to show off, and I am easily embarrassed. Clearly.
I do see a few other girls lowering from the air, not wanting to take part in this either.
“Daisy!” Rose screams from the ground.
Just as Lo sets me on my feet, I crane my neck and spot Daisy fingering the clasp on her back.
“Daisy!” I shout with wide eyes, equally as mortified as Rose. I do not want anyone to see my sixteen-year-old sister’s boobs. If she wants to tear off her bikini top in two years then so be it—but not now.
Lo plants his hands on my shoulders. “Jesus Christ,” he curses, trying to divert his eyes.
Daisy just looks at me, grinning from ear to ear.
Rose is about to swallow her anxiety and push through all of these bodies to reach Daisy and wring her neck. But then Daisy drops her hand with a laugh.
“Scare you?” she asks, waggling her brows.
Yes. She scared me, but at least she had no intention of doing it. That has to count for something.
Her eyes flicker beside me. Not to Lo, but to Ryke. His normally hard features are darkened slightly. And I think he’s trying really, really hard not to call Daisy a tease, just to piss her off and start something.