“Will you stop being such a prude?” Mom snaps.
“Regi isn’t coming back, Haze.”
“I know that,” I snap.
“So why are you waiting for him?”
“I’m not,” I splutter. “I just haven’t met anyone I like, that’s all.”
“Okay, so you’re telling me that if Regi walked back through those doors tonight and asked you to marry him, you would say no?” Monica picks up a teeny red dress and holds it up.
“Of course I would say no.” I snatch it off her and put it back where it came from.
Regi was my boyfriend of five years, my high school sweetheart. He went to college and never came back.
“So what kind of guy?” Mom prompts me.
“Hmm.” I think for a moment. “Blond. Capable. Hardworking. Animal lover.” I keep looking over the racks. “A virgin would be nice.”
“Virgin?” Mom gasps, horrified. “You want someone who knows what he’s doing at least!”
“What I want is a loyal man who loves me with all of his heart.”
“A virgin isn’t going to do that,” Monica huffs. “He’ll practice on you and then wonder what else is out there.”
“Sloppy seconds aren’t my style,” I reply casually. “And besides, you two can stop planning. I’ve got this. I will know him when I see him.”
“Oh . . . because a blond, animal-loving virgin is going to run right into you in Spain?” Mom rolls her eyes.
“I know.” I smile broadly. “I can feel it in my waters.”
CHRISTOPHER
“Can I help you?” A voice sounds from behind the counter.
“Umm . . .” I look around, wondering if I should run now while I can. “I have a booking.”
“Hi,” the guy says. “I’m Nelson.”
“Hi, Nelson. Christo.” The boys decided that I shouldn’t use my real name in case someone recognizes it. No idea how they came up with Christo, though. I sound like a count or something.
“Let me look.” He logs in to his computer and reads the screen. “Ah yes, here you are. You are booked for ten days?”
I nod as I peer back in at the frat party going on in the bar.
“You have paid in advance?” he asks.
I nod again. No idea why I did that.
“I’ll show you your room.” He walks out from behind the counter. “Come this way.”
I follow him.
“You’re in the fossil room.”
“Fossil room?”
“It’s where we put the oldies.”
“I’m hardly old,” I splutter.
“Anyone over twenty-five is considered old here.”
“Oh . . .” I look around some more. That makes perfect sense: nobody over twenty-five is stupid enough to come to this shithole.
“Ta-da.” He opens the door, and the blood drains out of my face.
Bunk beds, three sets of bunk beds. All in the one room.
“There must be some mistake. I ordered a single room.”
“Yeah, they are all gone. You only get one if they are available.”
I narrow my eyes at this fucker. “So . . . what’s the point of booking in advance, then?”