The Stand-in by Lauren Campbell

Author:Lauren Campbell [Campbell, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-08T16:00:00+00:00

Nate and Becca weren't in the river. After seeing the same bratty kid float around three times, we set off in search of them. At long last I see her tanned arm waving wildly at us from the tallest slide in the park, beckoning us to come up, but when I see that hundreds of people pack the stairs, I shrug exaggeratedly, concerned about cutting in line, but she keeps waving, yelling a faint “Come on.”

“No,” Rhett says. “We're not climbing fifteen floors when you just broke my tailbone.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously? Don't be such a wuss.”

He points back to the kiddie pool. “Did you see how hard I fell?”

“Sure did. It was hilarious.”

“You're really a bitch, you know that?”

“I've heard worse.”

“I don't doubt it.” His head jerks toward the slide. “Come on. This wuss is gonna lead you through the crowd.”

I stay behind him, his hand clutching mine, inching and weaving through damp bodies toward the top, many of the men and kids seeming annoyed that we're passing them. Probably not even going to meet anyone, one whispers. I hate people who cut, says another. But everyone with two X chromosomes from tween to senior citizen appears to thoroughly enjoy their view of Rhett. Fleetingly, I want to squeeze his hand tighter, huddle up against him, because let's face it … it feels good to have something that's revered by everyone else.

But I push the thought out of my mind. If only they knew the real him, that his good looks don't detract from what's beneath that shiny exterior any more than our outward display of affection unearths our true feelings of disdain toward one another.

I'm panting heavily, a bead of sweat rolling down my back as I'm pulled along, up, up, up. This must be what it feels like to attempt a Mount Everest climb if you haven't adequately prepared. Like, nope, no thanks, changed my mind. I really need to take Hailey up on joining her for Pilates.

With only one or two floors left to ascend, a shift of the crowd results in the break of our clasped hands, and we are somehow separated. In a flash, Rhett's head turns to find me, but then his attention is directed to a bald man with sunglasses perched on his head who doesn't seem pleased Rhett was breezing past everyone.

I could save him, buuut I'm just not that fond of him, so I resolve to walk right past him.

But when I attempt to squeeze past a teenage couple playing Twister with their tongues, they break suction and snap their heads my way.

“There's a line,” the girl says, a Shawn Mendes t-shirt over her bathing suit and cystic pimples speckling her chin.

“I'm...” I point to Rhett, smiling, “just trying to get to my boyfriend. Excuse me.”

“Yeah, right,” the boy says, his crooked teeth lined with braces. He steps in front of me.

I glare at them both, then attempt to move past them.

“Line starts down there.” The girl points over the stairs.

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