South beach by Aimee Friedman

she knew for sure that she'd be seeing him before she went home.
    "But it felt... not as good as I'd thought it would," Alexa added, startled by her own honesty. "I mean, at first it was great. But then, I don't know. I wish I hadn't been so drunk." She wasn't sure why she was saying these things to Holly. They were things she wouldn't admit even to Portia. What was with her tonight?
    It was Ohio's, Alexa told herself as they walked into the Flamingo. The place was off. Not her. Tomorrow night, they'd go someplace much more glamorous and classy. Then, she'd be back to her old self.
    After all, she couldn't leave South Beach without breaking her Cannes record.
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    CHAPTER SIX
    Looking for o Boy
    "How hung over do I look?" Alexa asked Holly the next morning. They were on the beach, sprawled out on towels while the ocean lapped at their toes. It was another blindingly gorgeous day.
    "Not bad," Holly said, taking off her sunglasses to get a better look at Alexa. "Maybe a little tired." Alexa was wearing a canary-yellow string bikini. Her hair was swept up in a bun, and with her oversize shades on, she looked like a mysterious old-time movie star.
    "Well if I'd gotten more sleep ... " Alexa said in an accusatory tone. She shot Holly an evil glare, then tilted her face back up toward the lemony sun.
    Much earlier that morning, Holly's miniature travel alarm had gone off, startling both her and Alexa
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    awake. When she was going to bed at two a.m ., Holly had ambitiously set the alarm for seven thirty, thinking she'd go for an early run on the promenade along the beach. Of course, she hadn't counted on feeling like utter crap when the alarm went off. Alexa, pissed, had thrown her lone pillow at Holly's bed, and was unable to drift off again. Holly turned off her alarm and fell into a restless sleep, deciding she'd go for a run some other day. Now, four hours later, both girls were groggy and grouchy -- and Holly was feeling guilty about her laziness.
    "Sorry," Holly said defensively as she readjusted the straps on her Speedo. "I'm just trying to keep healthy and active." Ever since Alexa had rescued her outside Ohio's last night, Holly had been feeling a bit warmer toward her old friend. But now; her irritation had returned.
    Oh, please, Alexa thought, reaching for the large iced cappuccino she'd stuck in the sand beside her. Being healthy was so not the point of spring break. Leave it to holier-than-thou Holly to try to stick to her exercise regimen, even after a night of drunken debauchery. Alexa took a long sip from the straw. It was her third coffee of the morning, but it wasn't helping. Her head still throbbed and she felt fuzzy, as if she were experiencing the world through a layer of cotton.
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    "I need a little hair of the dog," Alexa mused aloud.
    "Hmm?" Holly asked, distracted. She'd seen an olive-skinned boy coming out of the water, and thought, for a moment, that he was Diego.
    "Another drink," Alexa explained patiently. "Like a mimosa or something."
    "Oh." Holly squinted at the boy, confirming it wasn't Diego. He walked past Holly's towel to his waiting girlfriend, who said something to him in Spanish as he approached. Holly glanced around the beach. It was still relatively early, but the stretch of creamy white sand was dotted with serious sunbathers -- all toned and bronzed. Holly felt very pale and freckly amid all the golden brown bodies.
    "Plus, I have to pee," Alexa complained. "Stupid coffee." She stood up and flung her empty container into the nearest trash bin.
    "Do you want to go back to the Flamingo?" Holly asked. They'd walked to a beach that was several blocks north of the motel, not wanting to see any of the kids from the night before.
    Alexa couldn't bear the thought of facing Thomas. She shook her head, remembering how drunk and red-faced he'd looked in the bar. "I need a break," she groaned.
    "Maybe we can go to one of those places back there," Holly said, rolling over and pointing to