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Authors: Rachel Harris
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favorite Sugarland song. I curl my lip and shimmy my shoulders, and somewhere during the conditioner, I start to sing aloud.
“All I want to do…”
Bopping my head, my jamming continues as I step out and coat myself with vanilla lotion. Between running and volleyball, I’m forever in the sun, and this is my attempt to keep my skin from looking eighty in ten years. Thoroughly covered, I wrap my hair in a fluffy towel turban-style, put on my new bright yellow bikini and a pair of jean shorts, and pad back to my bunk.
Arctic air-conditioning hits my damp skin, and I shiver as I toss my towel on the floor. Shaking out my hair, I sing, “Baby drive me crazy,” as I comb my fingers through the snarls. Kara’s radio sits next to my hair dryer, so I flip it on and scan the stations until I land on my favorite. Hitting the switch on the dryer, I begin belting the top forty hit over the loud whir .
Crooning into my hairbrush microphone and with the dryer humming in my ear, I almost don’t hear the creaking sound behind me. But mid-head bob, swaying arm still outstretched, I freeze, then promptly spin on my heel.
Brandon is sprawled across Gabi’s bed, hands behind his head, ankles crossed. The corner of his mouth twitches as he meets my horrified gaze. He winks, and I whirl back around, killing the radio. “What the hell are you doing here?”
God, if you’re listening, please have mercy and take me now .
Brandon chuckles, and I shake my head, choosing to believe this isn’t happening. I don’t look back. I can’t . With my breathing near hyperventilation, I continue drying my hair, hoping with everything in me that he’ll be gone by the time I’m done.
Eventually, every strand is bone dry. I have no choice but to turn off the dryer, wrap the cord around the handle, and put it in my bag. Only then do I turn around.
Sure enough, he’s still sprawled out, silently nodding his head, tongue tucked in his cheek. “That was awesome.”
I throw my head into my hands. “I was supposed to be alone! Everyone’s out at the lake.” I peer at him through the slats of my fingers. “And why aren’t you, exactly?”
He shrugs. “I got bored. I wanted to see if you’d go hiking with me, but after that performance, I’m thoroughly entertained.”
Oh, God . I dive onto the bed and cover my head with my silk pillow from home. Gabi’s bed creaks again, and I know he’s on the move. When my own bed shifts under Brandon’s weight, he tries to pry away the pillow but is unable to overpower my death grip.
He chuckles. “Aly, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you—”
“Ha!”
“Okay, I’m sorry that I embarrassed you. But there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. The moves were quite hilarious—”
That statement earns him my pillow to his head, which he catches without missing a beat.
“But I had no idea you could sing like that. I thought we didn’t have any secrets, but you go and hide something like this?” He tsks and from the corner of my eye, I see him shake his head. “Makes me wonder what other deep dark secrets you have. Relationships, even casual ones, are built on trust, Aly. I don’t know if I can keep dating someone I can’t trust.”
Despite myself, I laugh at his teasing. I sit up but can’t bring myself to look at him. Instead, I focus on a loose thread on the comforter and wrap it around my finger. “No one knows. I’d be literally scared to death to sing in front of anyone.”
“You just sang in front of me and lived to tell the tale.”
“Ah, but see, I didn’t know you were there.” I shift on the bed and slowly lift my eyes to study his face. He’s smiling, but doesn’t appear to be laughing at me. “Normally, I only sing in the bathroom. Besides you, only my toothbrush and hairbrush have been privileged enough to hear these pipes.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You should broaden your audience.”
His green eyes sparkle with sincerity, but I’ve never
“All I want to do…”
Bopping my head, my jamming continues as I step out and coat myself with vanilla lotion. Between running and volleyball, I’m forever in the sun, and this is my attempt to keep my skin from looking eighty in ten years. Thoroughly covered, I wrap my hair in a fluffy towel turban-style, put on my new bright yellow bikini and a pair of jean shorts, and pad back to my bunk.
Arctic air-conditioning hits my damp skin, and I shiver as I toss my towel on the floor. Shaking out my hair, I sing, “Baby drive me crazy,” as I comb my fingers through the snarls. Kara’s radio sits next to my hair dryer, so I flip it on and scan the stations until I land on my favorite. Hitting the switch on the dryer, I begin belting the top forty hit over the loud whir .
Crooning into my hairbrush microphone and with the dryer humming in my ear, I almost don’t hear the creaking sound behind me. But mid-head bob, swaying arm still outstretched, I freeze, then promptly spin on my heel.
Brandon is sprawled across Gabi’s bed, hands behind his head, ankles crossed. The corner of his mouth twitches as he meets my horrified gaze. He winks, and I whirl back around, killing the radio. “What the hell are you doing here?”
God, if you’re listening, please have mercy and take me now .
Brandon chuckles, and I shake my head, choosing to believe this isn’t happening. I don’t look back. I can’t . With my breathing near hyperventilation, I continue drying my hair, hoping with everything in me that he’ll be gone by the time I’m done.
Eventually, every strand is bone dry. I have no choice but to turn off the dryer, wrap the cord around the handle, and put it in my bag. Only then do I turn around.
Sure enough, he’s still sprawled out, silently nodding his head, tongue tucked in his cheek. “That was awesome.”
I throw my head into my hands. “I was supposed to be alone! Everyone’s out at the lake.” I peer at him through the slats of my fingers. “And why aren’t you, exactly?”
He shrugs. “I got bored. I wanted to see if you’d go hiking with me, but after that performance, I’m thoroughly entertained.”
Oh, God . I dive onto the bed and cover my head with my silk pillow from home. Gabi’s bed creaks again, and I know he’s on the move. When my own bed shifts under Brandon’s weight, he tries to pry away the pillow but is unable to overpower my death grip.
He chuckles. “Aly, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you—”
“Ha!”
“Okay, I’m sorry that I embarrassed you. But there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. The moves were quite hilarious—”
That statement earns him my pillow to his head, which he catches without missing a beat.
“But I had no idea you could sing like that. I thought we didn’t have any secrets, but you go and hide something like this?” He tsks and from the corner of my eye, I see him shake his head. “Makes me wonder what other deep dark secrets you have. Relationships, even casual ones, are built on trust, Aly. I don’t know if I can keep dating someone I can’t trust.”
Despite myself, I laugh at his teasing. I sit up but can’t bring myself to look at him. Instead, I focus on a loose thread on the comforter and wrap it around my finger. “No one knows. I’d be literally scared to death to sing in front of anyone.”
“You just sang in front of me and lived to tell the tale.”
“Ah, but see, I didn’t know you were there.” I shift on the bed and slowly lift my eyes to study his face. He’s smiling, but doesn’t appear to be laughing at me. “Normally, I only sing in the bathroom. Besides you, only my toothbrush and hairbrush have been privileged enough to hear these pipes.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You should broaden your audience.”
His green eyes sparkle with sincerity, but I’ve never
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