I hop into my Jeep, finished with me delicious scone, and on my way to find a nice place to get a massage or manicure or something of the liking. As I find my way driving thru a national park, with small bamboo forests and little roosters and hens running free without any sign of ownership. I turn on some music, and slip on my sunglasses. Bending and turning, on my way to one of the most desolate non-touristy places overlooking the mountains and part of the ocean. I would get my hair done, massages and makeup re-done: I would look as fresh as a flower. And I will feel good too! Finally arriving at the almost all window shop-like little place. I finally settle down as I get set in a massaging chair overlooking the water, while they paint my toes and massage my hands. Closing my eyes, I relax and finally fall asleep.
"Honey—would you like to get your hair done?" the lady asks me, waking me up. I pop my eyes open and nod my head, smiling.
I walk up the stairs to my room, and unlocking it with my card, I plop down on my bed, and once again open my window, freshening the quite dazzled place. I sigh, and rubbing my forehead with the ends of my finger hard, I recall my gorgeous morning like I was in it now. I get up, slip off my skintight denim's, and put on my pajama shirt again without any pants. My legs freed themselves into plain air, and clung tightly to my bones and tendons. I sigh, and turning on some hip-hop music from my phone, (cranking it loud) I skip to the mirror to check my self for the millionth time. My waterproof makeup better stay on if I decide to go surfing, or swimming. This would be my lucky day! After a lot of laying and daydreaming, dancing to the jig, and not bothering to care if anyone saw me half naked, I finally sigh and turn off the music. Before I know it, hear a voice from the adjoining resort to my resort's side.
"Why'd you turn it off?" A boy's voice calls, manly deep warbles, warbled thru the highway of cars, waves, and laughing below. I whip my head to the direction of the window, and grimacing at the boy out on his veranda, I walk to my duffle, and pull on some extra short tight blue cotton workout shorts. They squeezed my butt, and went just below it comfortably. The man chuckled as I roll my eyes at him, and make sure that he knew I was putting on shorts BECAUSE of him. I then smile slightly as I walk out onto the veranda, soaking in warm fresh air. I lean on the rail, like he was. I narrow my eyes at him, only wondering if he could see them.
"Are you stalking me?" I ask making myself sound appalled. He puts a thinking look on his face.
"Well…it's kind of hard not to glance at where some loud hip-hop music was coming from-let alone a half naked girl" He says, smirking, his eyes dazzling with a amusement.
"I'm not a girl" I answer, wrapping a strand of my well-done hair around my finger.
"May I ask how old you are then?" He says, trying to wrap me into his plan, "If you're older than 18, than you're more than a girl" He says, putting game into the whipping air.
"When did you get to set the rules?! I thought you had to be 16 or older in order to be a woman!" I protest. He shakes his head, giving me a sexy toothy smile.
"You're 18 aren't you?" He asks. I stand up straight, crossing my arms, and pushing my boobs up higher out of my simple shirt.
"Y-yes, but that doesn't matter. I make the rules, because I'm the woman here" Explain, smirking at my smartness. He shakes his head,
"What are you doing so far from home?" He asks, setting his lips in a comfortable straight, friendly line. He was trying to get at me!
"Excuse me?" I ask, wondering if he was a future teller or something. He chuckles deeply, "Tourist aren't you?" He asks.
"Well so are you, right? Why else would you be staying at a resort? If I lived here I would be at my own place along the ocean" I say waving my finger.
"I'm just wondering! Plus these places here on this island are pretty pricy" He says, chapping his lips, making a pop! Sound.
"So make money, duh!" I say, making it sound like an easy thing.
"You obviously don't know the way of living—" He starts,
"Uh—listen buddy. You don't know me. I have a job, and I am moving out of my Mom's place right when I get home. And guess where I'm moving too?" I pause, making it sound special, "Here" I say, placing a finger at the ground. He gives me an "impressive" look, nodding his head.
"Fine life you have. Parent's rich?" He asks cockily.
"In fact they a—" I stop myself. "You don't need to know about my parent's" I say, almost putting a whiny voice in, high pitched and repulsive. He shrugs, "Anyway" I say, sighing and running hand thru the back of my head, "I'm going to go make use of this day" I say chuckling. He nods his head,
"See ya around baby" He catches me in flying air I start to walk in. I yell back at him,
"I aint your baby yet dude" I sat, smirking at his reply,
"Yet?" And I close the door behind me.
I close my eyes as I say on a beach chair in the sand. The warm—hot—sun beautified my body, and lathering sun screen on just to me make me feel better, I flip onto my back, and poor some lotion onto my hand, I sit up, and dry and rub it into my back as much as possible. Of course missing a few places, I rest my arm, because It was getting slightly tired. Shaking myself, I try again,
"Need me to help you there?" Someone's voice—familiar—voice warbles to my right. I glance at them. And sure enough, the kid I was talking with stood with his friends, smirking, and his shirtless body tanned and quite beautiful. The rest of the kids were just as attractive, staring at me with awe. I shuffle uncomfortably.
"Pervert" I mumble, switching to rubbing my shoulders. He chuckles,
"What was that?" He asks, putting a hand to his ear. It turn my head to him, scowling.
"Pervert!" I say loudly, a few faces glanced our way.
"Touché" On of the cute blondes says. I wave the back of my hand at them,
"Go surf or something—leave me alone" I say, turning over so my back was now lying on the chair. I swallow, and close my eyes, putting my sunglasses over my manicured eyes.
"Why don't you surf?" The brunette asks. I shrug,
"Maybe later…. now boogie!" I say, smirking a little. They chuckle, and walk away. Whooping as they dive into the water, some of them flirting with some touristy girls, I sigh with relief and contentment.
Okay! Maybe I was getting skin cancer, but I was sure going to have a beautiful tan after this day. Making sure I didn't fall asleep, so that I wasn't strawberry red tomorrow, and hurting as hell, I finally get up, brushing the sand from my face with my blue surf towel. I stand, gazing out at the ocean, and spotting the boys I had met from across my resort, I smile, and continue to walk to the surf rentals booth just past the swimming pools, where the younger less experienced kids swam and shrieked. Sometimes I got a little pissed because It thought it was stupid for a resort on the ocean to have swimming pools—and then I just thought it was plain stupid the parents didn't just throw their kids into the ocean and let them have a GOOD time.
I walk past some basking teens, and their mother's (haha fuckers, bet you jealous you can't be gone sleeping with some guy!) with way-too-big sunglasses, and polka-dot bikinis. One glances at me as I walk, and frowning, goes back to getting as red as a cherry. Be gone girl—go to a tanning salon. I smirk at my thoughts, and step onto the tile out skirting the swimming pools, the cold sand paper like stone brushing against my massaged feet. Arriving at the booth, a man steps up, smirking—and be lookin' well too! I give him a slight wink, and turn to the side, scanning some of the boards hanging up. I had learned how to surf pretty well with my Dad when we went to live in Florida for a year—I was ready to tackle them boys out having some gun-shooting blast. The guy—curly brown hair, beautiful green eyes, like sparkling diamonds, muscled arms, white swimming trunks hanging from his (may I say) beautiful hips (har-har), flawless face, and large hands, taps the booth. He then grins,
"How can I help you?" He asks, looking me over once more. I smile,
"Can you show me?" I say, motioning to the back where more boards sat and hung in various places. He narrows his eyes, and then clicks his tongue:
"I usually don't show people in the back—but for a special costumer" He nods at the ends, opening the swing door that led behind the desk. I smirk, and slide thru it. He walks to the back, and I hang close. He comes to the back: I survey my options. Black, grey, white, lavender (LAVENDER!), orange, and some more dark greys, light greys etc. I look at him, and then he turns his head to mine, I give him a cheery excited smile. I look back at the selection,
"I like the lavender…what do you think?" I ask looking them over, and then back at him. He purses him lips,
"That's one of our most difficult"—and then he looks at me eyebrows raised, "But you look fit an experienced" He says, smirking.
"Yeah baby! I lived in Florida for a year with my Dad—pro surfer, I know how to surf dude" I say sort of kiddish. His impressed look made me bump him in the ribs,
"I'm probably not as good as you though—eh, eh?" I ask, chuckling. He shakes his head, chuckling also. "C'mon! Come out an surf with me?!" I beg, puffing my lower lip out. He looks down at me, smiling,
"Do you believe in magic?" He asks. I look at him in surprise, wondering if he was some sort of nerd or something.
"Y-yeah, sort of" I answer, giving him a wry, sly smile. He stuffs his hands in his pocket.
"Then do you think the booth can run itself?" He asks, wondering my eyes. I smile,
"Of course it can!" I answer, grabbing his arm, "Now come ON!" I say, tugging his arm.